Witchful Thinking: A Jolie Wilkins Novel

  If Rand had any idea that I was standing here trying not to stare at his … um, male part … God, I was no better than Christa, the sex freak.

  “I suppose you’re referring to my … reaction to Sinjin?” he asked, sighing as if the last thing in the world he wanted to discuss was the vampire.

  I nodded and internally slapped myself. I had to focus. “Yes, I am. Whether you like it or not, he’s on our side.”

  Rand shook his head and frowned. “Sinjin wants you to think he’s on our side but he’s on no one’s side but his own.”

  I couldn’t argue with that, so I didn’t even try. “Put it this way, he’s more on our side than on Bella’s. And furthermore, we need him.”

  Rand narrowed his eyes, and there was a sudden stiffness to his composure. “And why is that?”

  “You know why,” I started and stood up, approaching him. “Sinjin is a master vampire—”

  “I know that,” he barked and then frowned. “I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he added in a small voice.

  I waved away his concern and continued. “Sinjin and Varick have all the vampires in their control, and we need them to help us keep the vampires in line. We can’t afford to fall out with either of them.”

  Rand nodded. “I have no issues with Varick.”

  “You can’t afford to have issues with Sinjin either.” I took his hand and held it. I really couldn’t help myself—I had to touch him, to feel that incredibly soft and warm skin.

  He shook his head and seemed ready to argue the fact but then squeezed my hand, folding his fingers over mine. “Sinjin wants something from you, Jolie, and I don’t like it.” He paused for a second and glanced down at our interwoven hands before lifting his eyes to me again. “I hate the way he looks at you and I hate the way he flirts with you.”

  “You’ve gotta get past that, Rand,” I said. “It’s all an act—it’s just how Sinjin is. I’ll bet he’s like that with every woman he comes across.”

  Rand laughed, but it was a humorless, hollow sound. “No, he’s not like that with other women.” He gazed down at me and shook his head. “He has some sort of fascination with you.”

  “And that’s why you dislike him so much?”

  He held my hand up closer to his face as he inspected my fingers, rubbing his own along my nails. “It’s just one of the many reasons I dislike him. I don’t trust him and I don’t want him anywhere near you.”

  “I can take care of myself, Rand …” I started to pull my hand away but he held it tightly and pulled me against his chest, wrapping his arms around my waist as he gazed down at me.

  “I know you can, but I also know you’re good-hearted and you like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Sinjin deserves none of your kindness, though.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “I just wish you could see him the way I see him, in his true colors.”

  “I’m not fooled by him, I know he has an agenda. I just don’t think he’s anywhere near as … threatening as you make him out to be.” I paused, wondering if maybe he was right—maybe I did tend to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. What if Sinjin was as bad as Rand made him out to be? But somehow, deep down inside, I couldn’t believe that. I just didn’t think Rand knew him as well as I did. “I don’t think Sinjin is a bad person.”

  “I suppose on that point we can agree to disagree,” he said and shrugged. “I just don’t ever want to see Sinjin hurt you and I’m afraid he will.”

  “He can’t hurt me, I haven’t allowed him to get close enough for that.” Even though I said the words, I wasn’t exactly sure I believed them. If it did turn out that Sinjin was merely out for himself and our friendship meant nothing to him, then yes, that would hurt me.

  “I hope you never do.”

  I smiled up at him, loving the feel of his large arms around me, the heat of his body that was now enveloping me. “At any rate, I do hope you see my point that we need him as our ally, that we need him on our side.”

  Rand was quiet for a few moments. “I don’t agree.”

  “Then we’ll agree to disagree,” I said furtively, drawing attention to the fact that this conversation was over. “I also want you to realize that Sinjin wasn’t responsible for me fighting in the battle against Bella. That was all me.”

  He shook his head and dropped his arms from around me. Hmm, guess this subject really bothered him … He took a few steps away before turning back around to face me with a tight jaw.

  “You will never convince me that Sinjin didn’t have a hand in that, and I will never forgive him for it.”

  “I asked him to help me. He was doing me a favor.”

  He took a few more steps away from me. His eyes were angry as he turned them on me. “It was a favor he never should have granted you. He should have kept you away from the battle at all costs.”

  “He knew I had to kill Ryder, Rand. He knew it was something I had to do.”

  “I would have killed Ryder.”

  “No, it had to be me,” I was quick to interject. “It was my anger and my revenge.”

  Rand just shook his head again. “Sinjin risked your life.” His hands were now fists at his sides. “I will never stop damning him to hell for doing it.”

  Okay, so he wasn’t going to budge on that one. I guess I could live with that. I smiled and sighed, figuratively waving my white flag of surrender. “Well, aside from the battle, I hope you’ll try to keep better control over your temper where Sinjin is concerned?”

  Rand inhaled deeply but said nothing so I continued. “He just likes to push your buttons, you must see that?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Then why do you get so flustered?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t help it. I suppose I wear my emotions on my sleeve.”

  I arched a brow at him and smiled. “I guess so.” I took a few steps for the door, feeling triumphant. I’d hit two out of three, which wasn’t bad. At least Rand had come around to the realization that Sinjin was our ally and, equally important, that we needed him to be on our side. And if he never forgave Sinjin for assisting me in combat, well, I guess I’d have to live with that.

  “Wait just a minute,” Rand said with the hint of a smile as he took two purposeful strides and inserted himself between the door and my body, blocking my exit. “Now it’s my turn.”

  “Your turn?” I asked in surprise.

  “I have a few questions for you.”

  I shrugged and stepped away from the door as he approached me.

  “You have questions for me?” I repeated.

  “Yes, I do.” He brought his hands to my shoulders, gently pushing me until my back was up against the wall. My heart started thudding in my chest as he pinned me between his outstretched arms, his face directly in line with mine.

  “Why hasn’t Sinjin realized you want nothing to do with him?” he asked, his eyes burning with what appeared to be jealousy.

  “What do you mean?” I asked innocently.

  Rand smiled, signifying that he was on to my game. “What I mean, Jolie, is that I believe Sinjin confuses your kindness with … interest.”

  “Are you trying to say I’m leading him on?”

  Rand shook his head and chuckled although the fire still flared in his eyes. “No, that’s not what I’m saying, although that’s what it sounds like.” He paused for a second and glanced down, as if trying to prepare what he really meant to say. “What does Sinjin mean to you?”

  I smiled. “Why, are you jealous?”

  He shrugged and the playfulness was absent from his expression as well as his voice. “Should I be?”

  “Sinjin knows what the situation is between us.”

  “And what, pray tell, is that situation?”

  “That he and I are just friends because …” My voice died in my throat. I was suddenly afraid to admit my feelings to Rand. Well, not so much afraid of admitting my feelings as admitting them knowing I still had the burden of our bonding situation on my shoulders.


  “Because?” he prodded.

  “Because I’m in love with a warlock who can’t control his temper.”

  Rand laughed and leaned down until the end of his nose touched mine. “And does this warlock love you?”

  I shrugged, trying to appear casual, although inside I felt like I was suffocating. I could feel Rand’s breath against my lips and see his pulse quickening in his throat. Not only that, but I could feel him hardening against my thigh.

  “I think so,” I answered breathlessly.

  He chuckled and brought his lips to my cheek, caressing my skin with the lightest of kisses. He pushed himself against me, crushing my breasts against his chest. “I think I know this warlock of yours …,” he started.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, and I can say he loves you very much.” His lips worked down the soft skin of my ear until they met my neck. “He loves the way you laugh, the way you smell.” He inhaled deeply.

  “What else does he love?” I whispered and closed my eyes.

  I felt Rand pull away from me so I opened my eyes and found him smirking. “He loves your eyes and the way you taste.”

  Before I could respond, his lips suddenly met mine and our tongues circled in a carnal dance. He ground his hips into me, as if he thought he needed to draw attention to the throbbing erection in his pants. He didn’t … holy enormous hot dog, he didn’t.

  “Rand,” I breathed.

  “Tell me Sinjin means nothing to you.” His whisper was raspy and coarse.

  “Sinjin is my friend and I care about him,” I said even though I knew he didn’t want to hear that. I just couldn’t lie. Sinjin did mean something to me and probably always would. “But,” I continued, “you mean the world to me, Rand. It’s you I love.”

  “Say it again,” he said and his hands were suddenly beneath my shirt, fondling my breasts, teasing my nipples.

  “I love you,” I groaned out.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” he ordered and pulled my shirt up to my chin, his eyes fastened on my breasts. Before I could think another thought, he had one breast in his mouth, his tongue teasing the delicate nub.

  “Say it,” he demanded again.

  “I’m yours.”

  He suddenly pulled away from me, and there was a frenzied look in his eyes. “I need to make love to you, Jolie.”

  I was unsure what to say since it felt like the floor had just been ripped out from underneath me.

  “Rand,” I began, hesitantly, thinking about the fact that I still hadn’t told him the truth about our bonding, a truth I’d decided to cover up. I didn’t think I could deal with possible bonding episode number two. “What if we bond?”

  “I don’t care,” he responded and tugged on the waist of my pants, unbuttoning my jeans as he unzipped them. Before I could say another word, his fingers were at the junction of my thighs, poised, perched, and ready.

  “Rand, we can’t.” I heard myself say the words and was shocked they’d come from my mouth because my brain was basically begging his fingers to take the plunge.

  He stood back and looked at me with a strange expression on his face. Maybe one of surprise mixed with rejection.

  “I want you,” I said, worried he might take this the wrong way. “God, I want you more than anything in the world.”

  He nodded and smiled, wetting his lips, as he pulled away. “I understand, Jolie. There is too much up in the air right now.”

  There was that too.

  “Rand—”

  He interrupted by pulling me into his chest and holding me as he kissed the top of my head. “You’re right. This isn’t the time.”

  “I don’t want you to think …”

  “Shhh,” he said and silenced me with a kiss.

  JOURNAL ENTRY

  So I witnessed something … interesting last night. After my little tryst with Rand, I went in search of Christa to say good night. Well, even though I was hoping to get in and get out, instead I found myself on the receiving end of Christa’s hour-long tirade about how John thinks she wants sex too often! Yes, this is what my life has been reduced to! And just the conversation I wanted to get into … Especially when I might as well become a born-again virgin for all the exercising my equipment gets.

  Anyway, when I’d heard all I could stomach about Christa and her insatiable sexual appetite, I found myself staring out her bedroom window, wishing I could relocate myself by clicking my heels three times and muttering, “There’s no place like home.” I mean, if I had to listen to one more word about role-playing, fuzzy handcuffs, or warming liquid, I was going to put myself out of my misery.

  Apparently God was feeling sorry for me too, because wouldn’t you guess what happened next? Well, Diary, you can’t guess because you’re an inanimate object so I’ll just tell you …

  I saw Sinjin having a heated discussion with Mercedes in Rand’s rose garden. At first, I thought maybe I was just delusional and my brain was creating interesting images in order to woo my thoughts away from Christa’s description of John’s phallus. (By the way, apparently weres are endowed with an average of two inches more than human men in that area—who’d have thunk?) Anyhow, after convincing myself my brain wasn’t trying to escape to its “happy place” and Mercedes and Sinjin really were outside verbally sparring, I said good night to Christa and ran downstairs and outside, pretending to search for a lost cell phone.

  Upon seeing me, Sinjin immediately stopped talking, cleared his throat, and smoothed down the front of his shirt so you know something had to have been going on—and something he didn’t want me to find out about. I mean, I have never seen Sinjin do anything even remotely hinting that he was uncomfortable. Mercedes didn’t give anything away—she looked just the same as she always did.

  After I announced that I was searching for my cell phone, Sinjin made a big fuss about helping me find it and accidentally (or not) brushed up against me a few times and then said he hoped I hadn’t gotten into “trouble” for his antics earlier in the evening. And as much as I wanted to be angry with him (because he is the quintessential troublemaker), there is just something about Sinjin that allows him to get away with murder. I can’t stay angry with him. And he knows it, the smug jerk.

  So I basically just ignored him, my mind racing with thoughts about what in the heck he and Mercedes had been talking about—and even more, about why Sinjin had almost seemed to panic when I interrupted them. The vampire was up to no good; that was as obvious as the fact that Christa needs a sex therapist.

  The more I thought about it, the more I had to wonder why Sinjin has always had this preoccupation with the prophetess. There were all those times when he’d been training me for battle and asked me to try to locate her telepathically. And as if that weren’t enough, when I first met Sinjin and he was pretending to be on Bella’s side, he showed more than just a casual interest in my few attempts to reanimate that old bag whom Bella thought was the prophetess.

  Yep, Sinjin definitely has something up his sleeve, and I’ve decided to make it my personal mission to find out what that “something” is.

  And I also can’t help being disappointed by the fact that I can’t completely trust him. I don’t know why exactly but I like Sinjin—I always have. It’s actually hard not to like him—he’s incredibly charming and funny. And yes, incredibly good-looking too. I just wish he would tell me the truth. Even though I know Rand is the one for me, or at least I hope he is, it would be nice to know if Sinjin really cares about me or if I’m just a means to an end. I can’t help but think I’m a pawn on his chessboard, nothing more.

  After obviously not finding my supposedly missing phone, Sinjin excused himself, saying he was hungry and had to go find a willing donor. Then he hightailed it out of the courtyard as quickly as he could.

  When I asked Mercedes what they’d been talking about, she was vague and just told me he was interested in where she’d been, how she was able to bring me back to 1878, and what her plan was. Did I believe her? Yes, M
ercedes really has no reason to lie to me—especially not to protect Sinjin. But even though I believed Mercedes, I definitely didn’t believe that Sinjin just happened to be curious about those things.

  Back to Mercedes … apparently she thinks I’m an incredibly powerful person. I have noticed that she never refers to me as a witch, which I find increasingly interesting …

  And that brings me to my next thought. When I was Bella’s abductee, and I attempted to resurrect the old woman whom she thought was the prophetess, the old woman said something that I’d never quite understood. When I touched her, she reeled back from me then announced I wasn’t a witch—and that I had no idea what I was. Then, poof, she died. Yeah, talk about bad timing … Even back then, I thought the old woman’s words were strange and just a little ominous but I sort of dismissed them as the ravings of a sick, old woman on the brink of death. But maybe I was wrong …

  What if I’m not a witch? What if I’m a totally different creature or something no one knows about? What if I’m like a mermaid or something nuts? Of course, I’ve never sprouted a tail in the shower and I don’t particularly enjoy The Little Mermaid. But that aside, wouldn’t my being something other than a witch explain the fact that Mercedes won’t refer to me as one—and wouldn’t it also explain that old woman’s comments?

  I hate having unanswered questions.

  I’m probably just spinning my wheels, though, because if I’m not a witch, who in the hell would know exactly what I was? Maybe Mercedes? Note to self: Ask Mercedes if I’m something other than a witch and if so, what that something is.

  So leaving that subject alone for a little bit, the other interesting thing that Mercedes mentioned last night was that as Queen, I’ll have to find a suitable home. And this was the part of my evening that kept me up all damn night. I’m happy in my butler’s quarters—I’m happy living in the shadow of Pelham Manor and knowing Rand is only two miles away if I ever need him. I don’t want to move.