Portia’s thoughts reached me. She was already in her pajamas and had crawled into bed. Even though she was exhausted, I caught onto the thoughts in her head.
“I wonder what he looks like completely naked?”
I couldn’t help my grin. “Why don’t you come climb in with me and you can find out?” I replied in a teasing tone.
My reply jerked her awake. “You shouldn’t tempt me. I might surprise you and do exactly that.”
Sighing heavily, I replied. “I’m afraid at this point my resolve is low and I’d let you.” I was tired of fighting against my need for her all the time.
Even with her teasing, I never expected her to actually open the door and step inside, pajamas and all. Her gaze traveled across me and I was instantly on fire. Standing, I grabbed her, pushing her against the wall, as the water from both the shower and my wet body saturated her clothing.
I kissed her roughly, molten lava racing through my veins as she responded just as passionately. Words of warning whispered through my mind, but I shoved them aside. I was beyond caring at this point—I only wanted to make her mine.
My fingers slid into her wet hair as I held her head to mine, devouring her mouth with everything I had inside me. Dropping my hands to her shoulders, my fingers slid the straps of her tank top off her shoulders, and my lips trailed, across her face and down her neck to kiss her there.
Her thin nightclothes were molded to every part of her sweet body, outlining her figure perfectly and desire raged through me even stronger.
Sliding lower, I kissed her stomach though her shirt, her hands tangling in my hair before I slowly began to lift her top higher.
Jerking, I jolted awake. The hot water was still streaming against me where I sat alone in the shower. Groaning, I leaned over, placing my elbows on my knees as I shoved my hands in my hair.
This certainly wasn’t the first time I’d had tortured dreams like this about Portia. They happened a lot; and like every time before, I always woke right when things were getting good. It was as if my subconscious was also determined to keep me from having her as well, something I both blessed and cursed. I was beyond frustrated.
Standing, I turned the shower colder, biting back the groan at the unwelcome prickles that raced across my skin. Very quickly, I finished washing and got dressed before crawling onto the bed next to my sleeping girlfriend.
“I love you,” I whispered, placing a soft kiss against her cheek. She shifted slightly, but didn’t rouse enough to answer. I stared at her beautiful features in the soft moonlight, wanting her so badly I could taste it.
Maybe I could talk to her parents. I was eighteen. I had money and could support her very well. Would they ever consider letting me marry her early? I knew she was young, but we were already bound to each other. The marriage between us was inevitable. It would happen someday. Truthfully, it was only the last legal step to finalize our relationship together. Our souls had already been sealed together in the ritual. That was why this was all so hard for me—I already considered her my wife—I only lacked the paper to prove it.
My thoughts drifted to the engagement ring I still carried with me everywhere. We’d had some amazing times together, but I was waiting for the right time to talk to her about all of this. I knew she wanted me as badly as I wanted her, but I didn’t want her to miss out on enjoying and living her own life to the fullest, because she was rushing to be with me. There was no doubt in my mind that she wanted the same outcome I did.
The timing of all this completely sucked. I was quickly discovering that sometimes waiting was absolutely the hardest things to do.
Sighing, I brushed the heavy thoughts from my mind. She was here in bed with me now. I needed to learn to enjoy the moments we did have together instead of always wishing for more. Snuggling closer to her, I draped my arm across her shoulders and allowed myself to finally drift to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-One
Journal entry:
I’m ready for all this craziness to end. It breaks my heart to see Portia, and Brad for that matter, so torn up about the loss of their friend. I wish there was something more I could do, but so far nothing has changed—I have no new results. The constant separation from Portia has been putting a strain on both of us. I think I need to return my focus to her. Hopefully things with Shelly will improve at some point, but for now, we are simply going to have to wait things out.
***
Leaving Portia’s early in the morning, I went home and had breakfast with Marsha before she left for work, got ready for school, and hurried back to get my girlfriend.
It was hard to miss Shelly and her clique of new friends, clumped together in a secluded part of the parking lot. Technically, they were just outside the bounds of school property, so several of them were smoking.
She noticed Portia and me immediately, sending a snotty glance in our direction. Portia’s hurt passed through me, and like her, I was puzzled by the action. Shelly was the one who’d left us. We’d certainly never done anything to ostracize her.
Wrapping an arm protectively around Portia’s shoulders, I gave her a small squeeze, hoping to comfort her a bit. I hated seeing the way her friend was hurting her.
The two of us made our way into the school, stopping first at Portia’s locker, then going to mine to grab some of the items I needed for my first class of the day.
“Hey, Vance,” Shelly’s voice purred from behind me, catching me off guard. Slowly, I faced her, wondering what she wanted. Portia appeared to be frozen beside me.
Shelly stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my neck, kissing me on the lips as her body melted heavily against mine.
Standing in complete shock, I didn’t move or respond as she rubbed her mouth back and forth, obviously trying to elicit some sort of reaction from me. She stepped away, her gaze traveling over me in a carnal fashion.
“I knew you’d be hot,” she said, running a black polished nail down the side of her mouth as if she were very pleased with herself. She touched her finger against my chest, trailing it across my pecs before moving it down my abs, dipping lower toward—I snapped out of it, quickly grabbing her hand, holding it away from me.
“What the heck are you doing, Shelly?” I was flabbergasted by her actions. The next thing I saw was Portia’s fist connecting squarely with Shelly’s face.
I heard the snap of Shelly’s nose and she screamed, blood spraying everywhere.
“You stay away from him!” Portia screamed, lunging for Shelly again.
“Fight! Fight!” Someone yelled and suddenly the hall was full of running students and teachers.
I stepped in between the girls, trying to hold them back as they clawed for each other, and I used my powers to determine that Portia had indeed broken Shelly’s nose. There was no way I could heal it either. There were too many people around. The damage was already done.
“That’s enough!” the authoritative voice of one of the teachers, Mr. Bryson, broke through the scuffle, and both girls back away, staring at each other, breathing heavily. “Ms. Mullins, and Ms. Fontane, both of you to the principal’s office. Now!”
Retrieving my textbook and notebook that had dropped, I hurried after them.
“Not you, Mr. Mangum,” Mr. Bryson said, frowning heavily at me. “Get to class.”
“But I know what happened,” I replied gesturing between the girls.
“To class, now,” he replied harshly, turning to follow after them.
Stopping, I watched as they disappeared around the corner. There was no way I was going to class. I went into the boy’s restroom, determined to eavesdrop on the conversations with Portia so I could find out what was going on. Staring in the mirror, I saw Shelly’s red lipstick smeared all over my lips. Groaning, I set my books down and filled my hands with liquid soap, scrubbing to get it off.
---
I was at her locker, waiting, by the time she made her way to get her things. She’d been suspended for three days; and even thoug
h she felt like she deserved the punishment, she was pissed. Her parents had been called and were on the way to get her.
“I’m sorry. Are you okay?” It was a dumb question, really; but I wanted her to know I was here for her.
“Peachy,” she replied, retrieving several items from her locker before slamming the door shut.
I took her by the shoulder, turning her to face me. “You know there’s nothing going on there, right? I mean between me and Shelly.” Locking gazes with her, I let my emotions flow freely into her, telling her I wasn’t lying.
“She isn’t going to stop, you know?” She pushed past me and continued walking down the hallway. “She made it pretty clear that, now she’s had a taste, she wants more.”
I already knew this. I’d heard the conversation between them as they were waiting for the principal. Shelly had continued to taunt her.
Catching up, I grabbed her by the arm and spun her around. “I could care less what she wants.” Sliding my hands to the sides of her face, I continued trying to reassure her. “I’m bound to you, and only you.” I stared at her, hoping she could feel how much love raced through me, before bending to kiss her, gently.
“Go back to class, Mr. Mangum.” The secretary, Mrs. Bloomfield’s, high voice cut through the moment we were sharing. “Miss Mullins, follow me, please.”
Removing my hands, frustration coursed through me. “I’ll see you after school,” I whispered. I needed to leave so it wouldn’t cause any more trouble for her. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” she said, turning to follow Mrs. Bloomfield back to her office.
My teacher didn’t even look at me as I slipped into the back of the classroom and sat down. Opening my textbook, I pretended to be studying as my mind drifted into the conversations with Portia and her parents. They were plying her with questions, and she was filling them in with all the events that had led to this argument. Thankfully, they seemed to recognize the strangeness of the situation, and they went easy on her, encouraging her to do the best she could to repair the relationship with Shelly.
“I love you, Jinx,” I heard Portia say when she entered her room. “You’re a good kitty.”
“Get some rest,” I spoke softly into her mind. I could feel her exhaustion. “I’ll be there at lunch.”
“All right.”
“Love you.”
“Love you more,” she replied.
“Not possible.” I chuckled lightly.
“Do your schoolwork!” she ordered.
“Okay.” Knowing she was all right now, I gently slipped from her head.
---
She was still sleeping when I arrived, poor girl. “Hey, sleepyhead,” I said, bending to kiss her on the forehead and she blinked several times as she focused on me.
“Hi,” she replied, stretching her gorgeous body languidly, which immediately filled my head with all sorts of naughty images. “Is it lunch time already?”
“Yep. You were out like a light.” I laughed, trying to rein my thoughts back in. “I couldn’t even hear your dreams when I tried to check in on you.”
“This morning was a bit emotional for me,” she said, a small frown curving her lips.
“That’s completely understandable. By the way, great right hook.” I couldn’t help my grin. “And it didn’t even have any magic in it!”
“Yeah, well I guess my baser instincts kicked in.”
“I’m glad you’re on my side! I’ve never had girls fistfight because of me before. Well, unless you count the time . . . ” I allowed my voice to trail off, suddenly thinking better of it. She definitely wasn’t in the mood to hear of my playground experienced in grade school. “Never mind. We’ll save that story for another day.”
She forced a grin, her mind immediately conjuring images of two sexy cover model-worthy woman duking it out over me while I watched with pleasure. She was so far off base.
“The next three days will be miserable without you here,” she complained, pulling me down to sit beside her.
“Don’t worry.” Cradling her in my arms, I rested my chin on the top of her head. “I’ll be here every minute I can, and the rest of the time I’ll only be a thought away.”
“I know. But it still won’t be the same.”
There was a soft knock on the door, and Stacey came in, bringing a plate with two sandwiches, along with chips and sodas.
“I thought you two could use some lunch.” She set the plate down on the dresser.
“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”
“By the way, the school called while you were sleeping. Shelly and her family said they won’t be pressing any charges,” she told us as she left the room.
“Well, that’s a relief,” Portia said, after she’d gone. “The nurse said she thought Shelly’s nose was broken.”
“It is.”
“How do you know?”
“I have my ways.” I made a goofy, spooky gesture at her, wiggling my fingers above her head as I made a crazy face.
She started laughing, which was exactly what I was hoping for, so I tickled her to keep it going. Humor would help her feel better about herself right now.
“Stop!” She gasped after several seconds of wriggling, trying to get away. “You need to eat, or you’ll be late.”
“Oh, all right,” I replied, giving in easily. I was starving. Grabbing the food off the dresser, I took one of the sandwiches and held it out her so she could have the other.
“Seriously, though, can you use your magic to diagnose people’s injuries?” she asked, and I sighed internally. I guess I hadn’t distracted her enough.
Settling back on the bed I replied. “I can if I touch them. I held Shelly back after she charged at you, right before the teachers stopped everything.”
“Interesting.” She took a bite and the two of us chewed in silence while she pondered my claim. “Can all witches and warlocks do that?” she added when she was finished.
“Not all. It’s a special gift exclusive to healer witches.”
“So you’re a healer witch . . . um, warlock?”
“Yes.”
“Can you heal yourself if you get sick?”
“No. A healer witch, besides me, would have to do it.”
“Why?”
“Because my powers could be affected by my illness, depending on what type it was.”
“Oh.” She paused again, mulling over this information too. “So how does one find out if they’re a healer witch?”
“When they have the opportunity to heal someone, and it works.” Snagging a bag of chips, I popped it open.
“Who did you heal?”
“My mom.” The memory slipped instantly into my mind, replaying as if it were happening right this moment. “She accidentally cut her hand on a knife while doing dishes. I saw all the blood, ran over, placed my hands on her cut, and it healed.”
“How old were you?”
“Five. It was the first manifestation of my power.”
“Wow. No wonder everyone’s impressed with you. How’d you even know what to do?”
I shrugged. Even I didn’t truly know the answer to that question. “Instinct, I guess.”
“Can I ask you something else?”
“Sure. Ask away.” I opened my soda, taking a large swallow.
“What’s your mom’s name?”
This caught me off guard. I was always nervous about using my parent’s names—even in a circle of protection. The coven usually referred to them as my parents, or my father and mother. There were spells that powerful witches could invoke to detect the use of a name. I didn’t want to say something that might alert my dad, or anyone who was scrying for him, to my location.
I raised a finger to my lips. “Krista Leah Mangum,” I whispered very softly into her mind.
“And your dad’s?”
I wasn’t taking any chances. If someone were scrying, it would most likely be for the use of his name—it was stupid to risk it.
?
??Not here. Not now. It isn’t safe,” I replied and she immediately looked disappointed. I rushed to reassure her. “It’s more of a precaution really, Portia. We’re just trying to keep anything he might be doing to track us at bay.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled, glancing down at her half-eaten sandwich.
Sliding a finger under her chin, I lifted until she was forced to look at me. “You never have to be sorry around me. Not for any reason.” Leaning forward, I kissed her on the forehead.
“Vance! You’re going to be late if you don’t leave now!” Stacey’s voice floated up the stairs.
Sighing heavily, I stood. “I’ll be back after school,” I promised.
“All right. I think I’ll go spend the rest of the afternoon with my grandma at the store, though.” She stood, giving me a goodbye hug.
“Okay. I guess I’ll meet you there, then.”
Unable to resist kissing her sweet mouth, I did so for the last time before hurrying down the stairs and out the door. Portia followed behind me, waving, and I saw her mom appear behind her as I drove away. Curiosity got the better of me, and I opened the connection between us so I could hear what was being said.
“He’s a good kid,” Stacey said.
Yes, he is.”
“He cares a lot about you. I find that unusual in a young man of his age.”
“Vance is exceptional,” Portia replied, her heart infusing with love for me.
“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” Stacey asked. “I know he’s eighteen already, and he’s an adult, but you’re still only sixteen. If he hadn’t been on the run and gotten behind in school, he’d be graduated and long gone by this time. It worries me he may be ready to move on with a part of his life you’re not ready for.”
Portia felt slightly irritated with her mom’s suggestion, but I knew Stacey was spot on. I’d been struggling with exactly what she was concerned about.
“Mom, I’m not trying to be disrespectful, but I would happily go wherever and do whatever Vance wanted me to.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Stacey replied seriously. “You could end up on the run with him, out there alone and unprotected.” There was a pause. “Or even pregnant.”