Something Witchy This Way Comes: A Jolie Wilkins Novel

  “She is determined and that makes her dangerous.”

  “Couldn’t someone say the same of you?” I asked as I felt the wind suddenly pick up and throw itself against me full bore, stinging my cheeks.

  The old man just laughed, though, and raised his arms as if he was ordering the elements to calm down. When the wind immediately died, I realized he was completely in charge of the scenery around me—it was like everything was just a reverberation of his thoughts.

  “You are quick-witted, child,” he began. “Yes, I am determined, and yes, I could be considered dangerous … to my enemies, that is.”

  At the mention of his “enemies,” I felt something start in my gut—something that felt like fear. It was readily apparent that you didn’t want to be this guy’s enemy. Not with the sort of power he evidently had at his disposal.

  “So if the prophetess is not my equal, who were you referring to?” I demanded.

  The old man smiled at me as the scenery around us began to fade, replaced with the image of what appeared to be a woman. She was a mere outline, her long hair flowing in a strong breeze. Her feet were shoulder-width apart, and her hands were grasping a dagger, so I had to imagine she was a warrior of sorts. “You will meet her in time,” the old man said. “She is your equal, but like you, she is not prepared, not fully cognizant of all that she is capable. You will find your way together, teaching and learning from each other.”

  But I refused to believe there was a Lurker alive who could teach me or learn from me. Not when we were enemies. This was just a bunch of guff—a pretty story meant to charm me into believing the old man. Not wanting to give his prophecy any credence, I focused instead on the last time our paths had crossed, when he’d told me I was a Lurker.

  “So how do you know that I’m one of your people?” I asked.

  He shrugged as if the answer was easy. “I know your bloodline.”

  “My bloodline?” I repeated. “Last I checked, I was English, Irish, Swedish, and Scottish. No Lurker ancestry whatsoever.”

  He laughed as if I’d just told a great joke. “You are descended from the original tribe of Lurkers in Gratz, Austria. I knew your parents.”

  I shook my head and laughed sarcastically. “There you’re wrong. My mother was born in 1953 and has nothing to do with witches, warlocks, Lurkers, or anyone else, and my father wasn’t any more exotic.”

  He sighed. “Not everything is as it seems, child.”

  I was about to question him further but decided against it. I mean, I knew I couldn’t trust him.

  “I am not your enemy,” he said frankly. “In the end, you will have no one to turn to but me because I am your kind.”

  That thought sunk in my gut like an anvil. “Were you the one who sent me those dreams of the battlefield and the throne?” He merely nodded, so I continued. “What did they mean?”

  “It was a sign to you that you must return to your people and rule as you were meant to. Many may die—on our side as well as the side you currently represent. All of this can be avoided.”

  But I wasn’t about to focus on the “returning to my people” crap. Instead, it suddenly hit me that the dreams he’d thrust upon me had nearly killed me. “If I’m one of your people, why did you try to kill me?”

  He nodded and then exhaled, long and hard. “It was not my intention. I wanted to talk to you, to get into your psyche, but your walls were too high for me to overcome. I doubled my magic, and in the process polluted you. But that was never my intention.”

  “Well, it nearly killed me,” I answered in a caustic tone.

  “As I said, it was not my intention, child. I wanted only to communicate with you.” He paused for a second and then smiled at me. “My apologies.”

  But somehow “my apologies” didn’t cut it. No, this man—this creature—had haunted my dreams for months and nearly killed me. Whatever his reasons, they weren’t good enough. And that was when it dawned on me that I was not his latest, nor least, offense. “What did you do to Bella?”

  The old man said nothing for a while, just breathed harshly before he opened his mouth and spoke. “Bella does not have the constitution to understand our kind.”

  “So why did you try?”

  “We wanted her to deliver a message to you that we want you to be with us, your people, again. But Bella’s powers were not capable of accepting our magic. Instead, it addled her mind.”

  “Addled her mind?” I repeated. “Is that what you call it? Do you know that she’s completely bonkers? She’s scared to death of you or whoever has been contacting her, and if you want me to even consider talking to you again, you must immediately release Bella from the spell you have over her.”

  The old man paused for a few moments before speaking, then said, “We have released her, but the damage is done.”

  I shook my head. “Then you must not be as powerful as you profess.”

  “That is up for debate,” he said snidely, seemingly offended by my criticism. “What I came to tell you, Queen, is that you must return to your people.”

  I swallowed hard. “I am with my people.”

  “No,” he said fervently and shook his head. I could feel his frustration in the wild wind that started whipping around us again. “If you come to us willingly, we will not attack those you call your people now.”

  “What?” I repeated, my voice becoming desperate. “Then you are going to attack us?”

  “If we feel we have no alternative,” he finished, then took another breath, turning his predatory eyes on me. “All we ask is for you to take your rightful place beside us, where you belong.”

  “I am where I belong,” I said.

  Suddenly, his image began to dissipate before my eyes.

  “Wait!” I called. “I want to know why you want to destroy the creatures of the Underworld when you are essentially a part of it! You are vampires and witches!”

  But it was too late, the man had already disappeared, the scenery around me melting into a drab brown, pulling the grass, trees, and flowers in with it until it resembled melted caramel.

  Then I woke up.

  I couldn’t shake off the dream and go back to sleep. The Lurker elder was completely convinced I was one of his kind, and while I desperately wanted to wake Rand up and tell him everything, I hesitated. Why? Because I was scared to death that this news might destroy everything we now shared. I couldn’t stand the idea of what I might see in his eyes—disgust.

  You’re going to have to tell someone soon, Jolie, I chided myself. And remember what happened the last time you held out on Rand?

  Yeah, when I realized that I was Rand’s missing bond mate from 1878, I had kept it a secret. He had eventually figured it out anyway and what bothered him most was the fact that I hadn’t told him the truth.

  So aren’t you supposed to learn from past mistakes? I asked myself.

  Yes, yes, yes! I thought in response. But glancing over at him, I immediately came up with another excuse. He’s sound asleep and I shouldn’t wake him up.

  You’re going to have to tell him one way or the other, I continued in that know-it-all voice that did nothing but irritate me.

  I knew I had to do it soon, but I wasn’t about to do it now. A part of me just hoped I could work it out on my own. I wanted something to happen that would prove once and for all that I wasn’t a Lurker and that Mathilda was right—I was a witch with a little fae in the ol’ gene pool.

  Now fervently in favor of not telling Rand, I decided to try to sleep. I fluffed my down pillow a few times and rested my head, closed my eyes, and tried to will myself to sleep. No go.

  I tried a few more times but ended up tossing and turning like a boat on a restless sea, the thought of which summoned feelings of nausea in my stomach, which I then magicked away. Once I was ready to voyage back to the land of dreams, it was Rand’s turn to keep me awake.

  “J-Jolie,” he said in a muffled voice as he rolled his head to the opposite side and his brows knotte
d between his eyes.

  I turned to face him, but instantly realized he was still sleeping, his twitching eyelids a sign that he was dreaming.

  “I … I’m here,” he said and then grunted something unintelligible. I just shook my head and laughed lightly.

  “It’s okay, Rand,” I whispered. “I’m here too. Roll over and go back to sleep.”

  He didn’t say anything more, just nodded and rolled onto his side, falling back into a deep sleep. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, wishing I could join him. But it was becoming increasingly apparent that sleep wasn’t going to happen for me.

  I sat up straight, staring at the moon as it streamed in through the curtains that covered the French doors. They seemed to flutter in the breeze, dancing this way and that until they resembled undulating ghosts. Then it dawned on me—the doors were open, and I distinctly remembered closing and locking them before going to bed.

  Feeling my heart hammering in my chest, I stood up and was immediately chilled by the cold sea air. I wrapped my arms around my body, wishing I’d worn my long-sleeved pjs to bed. Hurrying to the doors, I pulled them closed just as a scent I knew well enfolded me in its clean spiciness.

  Sinjin.

  There was something in me that suddenly erupted—something hopeful and happy, because if I could smell Sinjin, that had to mean he was here, right? It wasn’t so much a feeling of missing a long-lost lover, but rather, finding a long-lost friend.

  I glanced around the room, wondering if Sinjin was still here, but there was no sign of him. Nothing other than the flirtatious dance of the curtains and the lingering spicy scent of men’s aftershave. I could feel his calling card as clearly as the cold, which was now wrapping its icy embrace around my body. I shivered in spite of myself and rubbed my arms up and down, trying to ward away the goose bumps. But I didn’t return to bed. Instead, I found myself gazing out the window into the blackness of the night as the stars twinkled from above. I couldn’t help but wonder when Sinjin had been there and for how long.

  Maybe this was all a figment of my imagination? Maybe I’d been worrying about him so much lately that my brain simply pulled a memory of his scent from the Jolie Wilkins archives and put one over on me?

  Or maybe Sinjin Sinclair hadn’t left my side at all, and had been fulfilling his post as sentry to the Queen from the shadows. That thought brought me an inordinate sense of peace and comfort.

  Was Sinjin the one who woke me from my nightmare? Did he somehow force the old Lurker to vacate my dream?

  Of course, I couldn’t answer either question and, instead, found myself gazing into the dark sea, watching the way the moonlight sparkled on the waves as they crashed onto the beach.

  Sinjin, if you’re out there, I thought to myself. I hope you’re safe. And if you really were here tonight, thanks for stopping by.

  I cleared my throat.

  I miss you.

  Just before dawn, when the sky was still a dark blue, I reached my breaking point. I’d tried to get back to sleep countless times but couldn’t do it. I’d basically been awake for the past three-plus hours and felt like I might lose my mind if I didn’t find something to occupy it.

  But what to do? It wasn’t like there was much going on at this early hour. But I had to imagine there was one person who might actually benefit from being checked on … Bella. Feeling suddenly charitable, I stepped out of my pajamas and magicked myself a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a thick down jacket, knowing I’d freeze as soon as I stepped outside in the early Scottish morning.

  I tiptoed to the door and smiled at Rand, who was still deeply asleep. I was so happy about everything that had happened between us. Not wanting to lose myself to a mushy moment—I could tell my pregnancy hormones were in full effect—I closed the door behind me and started for the staircase that led to the guesthouse where Bella was currently imprisoned.

  As I hurried through the house, it dawned on me that I hadn’t seen the werewolf guards who were usually stationed at my door during daylight hours. But this realization didn’t cause me any sort of disquiet, mainly because Rand had taken it upon himself to be my protector. I had to figure that the weres would get disgruntled at some point and go find something else to keep them busy.

  Once I stepped foot outside, the cold assaulted me and I slammed my hands into my coat pockets, forcing myself forward. I scanned the vista of the moors on one side of Kinloch and the craggy shoreline on the other and felt fortunate to have this quiet moment alone. Kinloch was going to be in a frenzy when all the creatures of the Underworld were assembled on my property. While I thought I made the right decision, I couldn’t help but bemoan the loss of peace that would ensue.

  I jogged through the courtyard, and when I reached the path that led to the guesthouse, I was suddenly overcome with thoughts of Sinjin. Was he out there somewhere, watching me at this very moment.

  Could it really have been Sinjin in my bedroom? Somehow—and I wasn’t sure why—I desperately wanted to believe it was true and that he really wasn’t that far away from me.

  I reached the guesthouse and quickly noticed that only one of the werewolf guards was on duty. He glanced over at me and smiled as he dropped into a low bow. “Good morning, my Queen,” he said.

  “Good morning. What’s your name?” I asked, realizing I should have done so long ago. Part of being Queen was earning political points by kissing babies and the like. I had to admit I hadn’t been great in that department.

  “Brandon James,” he replied, grinning from ear to ear. He clearly took pride in his position.

  I nodded and smiled, extending my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Brandon.” Then I looked at the door, the smile falling off my face as I returned my gaze to him. “How is she?”

  He shrugged. “She seems to go up and down. Sometimes she’s real quiet-like, an’ other times she’s a handful.”

  I nodded. “How was she last night?”

  “Quiet. The most quiet she’s been in a while.”

  I tried to exhale my anxiety as I wondered what was happening with Bella. Was her delirium getting worse as the Lurker elder claimed? Was the damage that had been done irreparable? Yes, it was true that Bella and I had never been fond of each other, but I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. It just seemed life had been dealing her some pretty nasty cards, including that she’d loved Sinjin and he hadn’t cared for her at all.

  “Can I go in?” I asked.

  The were just nodded as I started for the door and put my palms up against it to take down Mercedes’ wards. I got the barriers down and opened the door to find Bella seated on the sofa with a book in her lap. She looked up at me with an expression of calculated irritation. If her hair hadn’t been so messy, I might have thought her wits had been restored.

  “How are you, Bella?” I asked with trepidation upon entering. I nodded to the werewolf guard that he could shut the door behind me.

  Once we were completely alone, Bella responded, “I am well.” Then she jutted her chin out as if to say she had nothing to add to the subject. Or any subject, for that matter.

  “What are you reading?”

  “None of your business,” she snapped, training her angry glare on me again. “I am a busy woman. Why are you here?”

  I nodded, not really knowing what to say. She almost seemed … normal. Her usual persnickety and unfriendly self seemed to be reemerging. “I came to make sure you were okay—” I started.

  She shook her head. “I am more than okay. I’m preparing for my inaugural dinner festivities.”

  I was surprised, but tried not to show it. I figured it was best to humor her. “What inaugural dinner is that?”

  She glowered at me and then lifted her book up, pretending to read it. I might have bought the whole charade if she hadn’t been holding it upside down. And odder still, it was Curious George.

  “My inaugural party for when I become Queen of the Underworld,” she answered without looking up at me, her
nose held high.

  I felt myself swallow hard as I realized she was just as crazy as she had been a day or so ago.

  “Oh,” I said, and for lack of anything else to say, started for the door. I figured that Bella was as good as she was going to get.

  “He visited me again,” she said in a low voice, still pretending to be wholly absorbed in Curious George’s adventures at the zoo.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “He calls himself Luce,” she answered. “He’s the Lurker elder.”

  I wasn’t sure why, but the thought that the creature who had been plaguing my dreams had a name terrified me. It made him a little too human. What was even more ironic was that Luce meant “light.”

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “He told me to prepare for my inaugural dinner. He said he’d invited all sorts of people and that I should plan on giving a speech. He also promised me a red satin gown and said I would be stunning in it.”

  I swallowed hard as my anger began to supplant my fear. What he had done to Bella was unacceptable. “I don’t think it’s wise to trust him,” I said.

  She eyed me and dropped the book. It fell to the ground with a thud. Returning my eyes to hers, I realized she was livid.

  “And why not?” she asked, sounding furious. “Because he wants me to rule, not you? Your jealousy is so transparent.”

  I shook my head, acknowledging my mistake. I hadn’t wanted to upset her, and without realizing it, I’d done exactly that. “No, that’s not what I meant,” I said.

  Bella stood up and her eyes were suddenly wild, wide and bulging. She took a few steps toward me and I watched her hands fisting at her sides. “He warned me about you,” she said, and raised a clenched fist. “He said you’re a liar and a manipulator and that you’re dangerous.”