How to Marry a Warlock in 10 Days (26 page)

“Middy, you do know that he’s dead, right?”

“I saw him! There was a flash of bright light, almost blinding, and I saw him standing there. He had the most beautiful wings,” Middy said as a warm feeling enveloped her.

“You, yourself, just said the light was blinding. Maybe you
wanted
to see him?”

“No! What else could have scared off that thing? Did you see that guy when he turned? He was like a Hollywood zombie.”

“I don’t know what that was. It looked like the servant we saw at Snow Manor, but up close it was more like that guy after he’d been dead for fifty years.”

Middy noticed the black marble floor of Dred’s kitchen and she flushed. This was where she’d seen herself in Dred’s mind. She’d been naked and . . .

Dred shrugged. “A warlock’s brain is never a safe place.”

“How many witches have you had on this floor?” She rolled her eyes.

“None.”

It was hard not to snort like a pig.

“Seriously, it’s marble. It’s cold.”

“I’ve been told that some things are better in fantasy than reality,” Middy said, smiling shyly.

“Yeah? What do you think about that?” Dred implied that she had reason to offer her expert opinion.

“Stop fishing for compliments. Your head is big enough as it is.”

“Let me check your back. If there’s no improvement, you are going to the Magick Medic and that’s final.”

“I liked it better when I was in charge,” she said sullenly.

“No, you didn’t.” He lifted her up on the island counter and turned her to suit him.

“What can I say? I do love an alpha male.”

He lifted the back of her shirt and was surprised to find that her wounds had healed. Completely.

“Is there any pain?”

Middy shook her head, trying not to lean in to his touch like a cat begging to be stroked.

Dred’s Witchberry was lying at the other end of the counter. So, when it rang, Middy jumped and fell off her perch. Dred had grown accustomed to Middy’s penchant for throwing herself off things and was there to catch her.

Unfortunately, that meant that he was not there to intercept the call.

Aradia Shadowins’s face was drawn and white and she scowled at them.

“So you two flit off to France without even a word to your mother?”

“Aradia,” Dred began.

“Don’t you Aradia me, Mordred Arthur Shadowins. I was worried sick. Sick! And instead of calling me you two are fiddle-fucking around playing house? You’ve got some explaining to do, young man!”

Dred eased Middy upright and picked up the Witchberry. “Look, we’re a little busy; I promise I will explain everything later.”

“The one and only heir to the Shadowins’s fortune and magick disappears without a trace and . . . do you know what I’ve been through? You will explain right now!”

Dred dropped the Witchberry into a drawer, but as soon as he did, there was a knock on his door.

“That would be my mother,” Dred sighed and opened the door. Aradia brushed past him with casual irritation.

“So, did you know that the council denied your marriage petition? Good thing you already gave her that ring, Mordred, or we’d be screwed.”

“What does the ring have to do with it? Besides that thrice-damned tattoo on the inside of her wrist?”

“It means you’re already married.” Aradia set her purse and her broom down next to the counter. “Family magick.”

“What?” Middy blinked like an owl that had fallen into a vat of coffee—eyes wide and organ failure about to ensue.

“I couldn’t very well call you and tell you, now could I? Especially since High Chancellor Godrickle revealed that you were off on some sort of secret mission. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” Aradia sniffed delicately.

“Mother, your temper is going to give you age spots.”

Aradia gasped. “Ungrateful boy, I had my hair done today, but I still hopped right on the broom to come all the way to Paris and warn my son that his cover might have been blown. And this is the thanks I get?”

“Since all your help comes with a hearty side order of nag, then yes.” Dred handed her a bottle of water and she sipped it like a cocktail.

“Really, Dred. A spy?” she huffed. Aradia took a breath before speaking again. “I’m so proud of you.”

“We thought it best that no one knew.”

Middy saw that he was uncomfortable with his mother’s praise. Aradia embraced him and while he returned the gesture, he looked around as if he were checking for an escape route.

“So we’re already married? Dred hasn’t even met my mother. My brothers are going to make me a widow before I’ve had a honeymoon.”

“It will be fine; you just leave all of that to me. Midnight, have you called your mother? She doesn’t know, right? About the spying or anything?”

Middy shook her head.

“First of all, call the witch. She’s probably worried sick. I will go smooth things over and she and I will commence with the formal wedding plans. You two know there’s no way out of that now.”

“Middy, you’re going to be on the cover of every magickal newspaper for some time. How you managed to snag Dred Shadowins with no pre-nup.” Dred grinned.

“Considering that we’ll both lose our magick if we split up, I’d say that’s one hell of a pre-nup,” Midnight sighed.

“Midnight, Shadowins don’t get divorced. They die first.”

Aradia said that with such a cheerful smile that Middy was tempted to ask if it was ever of natural causes. She wasn’t sure that she wanted to hear the answer.

Dred pulled out a bottle of George Dickel bourbon and poured himself a double. He downed it.

“Is it that bad?” Middy asked, not a little insulted.

“Yes. Have you thought about all of the paperwork?”

Dred downed another shot. “It will take days of meetings with lawyers and boards and so on and so forth. I have to add you to my health insurance, the life insurance, shares in the Shadowins’s holdings. You have to meet the griffins as an official part of the family so you can travel freely through our holdings. We have to change your name and, yeah, we’re going to change it. None of this hyphenated garbage.

You can walk me like a dog on a leash and I’ll call you mistress all day long and lick your boot heel or whatever the hell else you want, but you’ll wear my name.”

Middy snatched the glass from him and downed a shot herself. “Don’t call me ‘mistress’ in front of your mother.”

“You didn’t argue about the name.”

“Did you expect me to?” Middy asked.

“Kind of, yeah. I mean, you argued about marrying me to start with.” Dred picked up the bottle, then seemed to think better of it and put it back down.

“I’ll take care of all of that for you. Middy, I’ll have your new IDs, credit cards, and registrations delivered here tonight,” Aradia said helpfully.

“I can’t believe this is really happening.”

“I can’t believe that for all the magick we use everyday, someone didn’t invent a spell, a charm, or something to eliminate paperwork,” Dred added.

“It’s universal, I think. Even the Powers That Be have paperwork issues,” Middy said.

“Rather than try to demure, I’m going to duck out honestly. I’m sure you want to shag like mad now that it’s official.” Aradia grinned. “I know when to make an exit. And, Dred?”

“Yes, Mother?”

“Midnight is correct. I know my friends all have naked pictures of you, and that’s fine since you get your looks from me. It’s actually quite flattering. I even know that you and Midnight have intercourse. You’re a grown man. I accept that. I’d just rather not hear about what exactly that entails, m’kay?”

“You’re the one who said you were leaving so we could,” Dred replied casually.

“Don’t underestimate what a mother will do to secure grandchildren,” Aradia tossed on the way out the door.

Middy noticed that Aradia always got the last word.

Suddenly, she was very aware that she was alone with Dred. That shouldn’t have been anything new or intimidat-ing. But now, they were married.

She was his wife.

He was her husband.

They were a “they.”

It did little to reassure her that he seemed uncomfortable, too. Where were they going to live? Were they going to live together? She hadn’t even checked out the bathroom in this place to see if there was a spot for her toothbrushing charms.

Would she have to change her Witchberry account?

So much banality was crashing in on her idyll with Dred.

All she’d wanted was to lose her virginity. Instead, she was going to spend the rest of her life with this warlock. How had that happened? Well, she knew how it had happened, but it still didn’t seem real.

“I didn’t know about the ring,” Dred offered, breaking the heavy silence.

“I know.” Middy bit her lip before she spoke again. “This is stupid. We’ve been talking about doing this for real anyway. We’ve been living together, basically. So why is everything suddenly so awkward?”

“I’d like to say I’m sorry, but I’m not. You deserve better than me, Middy. I know that.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“It’s true. If I can own it, you can, too. I’ll be a good husband to you though.”

“As good as duty and country will allow, I guess.”

“We don’t have to have it all figured out today, you know. We can keep on as we have been,” he suggested.

“Does your mother think I’m a spy, too?”

“I honestly have no idea what goes on in that woman’s brain.”

Middy looked up at Dred’s profile and found she wanted to touch him. So she did. She pushed her fingers through his hair and smiled. “Is this okay?”

“The package is all yours now. Do what you want with it.” He raised a brow in invitation.

With a single touch, Middy had shoved him back into a territory that was comfortable for him. She didn’t like to see the uncertainty on his face. She wanted him to know that even if he didn’t love her, he was a good man and she didn’t feel cheated.

Middy didn’t think he knew that. Perhaps in his younger days, all he’d had to offer the world was his pretty face, but he was so much more mow. Maybe that was why he couldn’t love her, because for all of his show, he didn’t love himself.

He’d dived headfirst into a free fall from a perfectly sound broom to save her. Underneath his cynicism, Dred Shadowins had a pure heart. The love she felt for him surged and blossomed with a warmth that spread through her like a kiss from the sun.

Middy pushed her hands up beneath his black T-shirt and scored her nails lightly down his sides.

“I’ve been in charge enough for a while, I think.”

“What if I’ve decided I like you in charge?” Dred asked as he bent his head to kiss her.

“I think you’ll like this better.” Middy tilted her face up to meet his kiss and melted against him like many a witch before her. Yet, unlike the witches before her, Middy held the key to his fantasy and she knew it.

She loved the way he kissed. It was so real. Middy supposed that was a stupid thought to have, but after so much fantasy, knowing him, knowing his touch, the reality of his wants and desires fed her own.

His touch was visceral. It cut her in the softest places, but it healed her somehow, too. She wondered if he felt the same sensations as she did. Middy hoped so. It would be a sad thing to experience this wonder alone.

“Middy, you know I’m a warlock, right?” Dred said against the corner of her mouth.

“Oh, yes. Definitely.” She nipped at his bottom lip.

“Then you know I’m not a witch and don’t need to talk about every feeling we have.” Dred laughed as he kissed her again. 

He’d said “we!” Middy was elated.

“So what is it that I’ll like better than you telling me how you want it?” Dred refocused her attention.

“Me on this floor, in all my
pink
. Isn’t that what you wanted, isn’t that what you showed me?” Middy slipped her cotton dress off her shoulders and let it fall into a pool at her feet.

Dred snapped his fingers and a fire crackled to life in the great room and bedroom fireplaces; the cold, dark marble of the floor warmed instantly.

“As much as I love the visual, I’d rather have you on the chimerean fur duvet on my bed,” Dred said as he swung her up into his arms with ease.

Middy enjoyed the feel of her nakedness against the soft cotton of his shirt, how small she felt wrapped up in his arms. She especially liked feeling his muscles move under her fingers as he carried her to the bedroom.

He smelled of leather and pine; there were undercurrents of another scent that was just him. She breathed him in, trembled with anticipation.

Dred deposited her on the duvet, the fur supple and lush against her bare skin. He watched her for a moment, taking her in. She still blushed under his gaze.

He knelt at the foot of the bed and pressed his lips to the inside of her ankle and moved up to the tender place just at the inside of her knee. He touched his mouth there as well.

He kissed farther up her leg to the alabaster smooth skin of her thigh.

Middy’s breath caught in her throat and she relaxed her legs to allow him better access. She kept waiting for his mouth to descend to her slit, but it didn’t. He kissed the plane of her hip and moved to her belly. Her nipples tightened with desire and expectation. Dred’s mouth closed over one rosebud peak, his tongue hot and insistent.

She wanted to touch him, to pleasure him as he pleasured her, but he gripped her wrists and held her hands above her head.

“No, Midnight.”

“Why not? Don’t you like my touch?” Middy taunted.

“What is it you like to say? Be silent and objectified?”

“Are you objectifying me?”

“Be silent and find out,” he said before taking her other nipple into his mouth.

“Make me,” Middy dared him.

He released her nipple with a sigh. “I’ve figured out why you’re not a multi-orgasmic witch.”

“And why is that, Oh, Great Sex God?” Middy smirked back at him.

“Because you won’t be quiet long enough to have more than one orgasm. The banter has to stop sometime.”

“Why? Isn’t that what sex is? It’s what comes after the witty exchange, but it’s still a give and take. Just with other body parts.”