Maximum Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 3 (19 page)

Max drew her close to him. “Stick by my side. Even though I’m pretty certain Justin isn’t involved in any of this, I’m not taking any chances.”

She tucked her palm against his, and he rewarded her show of solidarity with a light squeeze. They ascended the steps, and a uniformed butler let them inside the mansion. She lifted her gaze to the towering stained-glass skylight high above before checking out the numerous marine-life paintings decking the walls. Some of them were huge. Practically murals. The sound of approaching footsteps distracted her from the art, and she turned her head. A dark-haired man strode toward them. He looked to be a couple years younger than her. Definitely no more than twenty-seven, at the most. His features could have graced a GQ model, and he had the lean, fit build of someone who took great care of his body.

The man’s penetrating green eyes roamed toward Boone first, and a slight flush darkened his already sun-kissed complexion. Willa wondered at the cause for his blush. Before she could dwell on it too long, the stranger’s scrutiny moved to Max. His expression became decidedly chagrined. “It would seem I owe you an apology, Sheriff. My uncle came forward and admitted the part he played in the cover-up.”

“Right now all I care about is having your cooperation in stopping your grandmother.”

“You have it.”

Max cleared his throat. “There is another favor I would ask.”

“Anything.”

“We’re in need of a place to stay. Possibly for a few days.”

The man’s attention shifted to her, his curiosity apparent. Max gave her hand another subtle squeeze. “This is my friend Willa. She came in from out of town when all of this occurred.”

Okay, that was odd. Judging from the conversation between Max and Boone in the car on the way over here, she’d assumed they’d be revealing her true identity to their host. But apparently Max had a change of heart. For whatever reason.

The man flashed a friendly smile. “Justin Bellemuir. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Willa.”

“Uh, thank you. Same goes here.” She winced at her complete dufusness. Obviously meeting the freaking Duke of Atlanta turned her into a word-fumbling ignoramus.

“You are all most welcome to stay for as long as you need.” Justin gave a charming bow. “
Mi casa es su casa.
”

Boone stepped forward and clasped the duke’s broad shoulder. “We appreciate your generosity, Your Grace.”

Another hint of color shaded the duke’s cheekbones. “Please, no need for formality. Within these walls, I’m simply Justin.”

Boone dropped his hand and moved away. Willa didn’t fail to notice the flash of hunger that briefly glimmered in the duke’s eyes as he stared at Boone’s profile. Willa blinked. Wow, so the Duke of Atlanta had the hots for Boone. Not that she blamed him.

Justin shifted his intense focus from Boone and locked gazes with her. His flushed countenance becoming even more pronounced, he quickly glanced away and developed a sudden interest in his shoes. The butler reappeared in the entry and inquired if they were in need of anything. Looking immensely relieved by the interruption, the duke requested to have rooms prepared for his guests. Once the butler left to take care of the arrangements, Justin turned to her, all traces of his previous embarrassment gone. “I’m sorry your stay here has to be under less-than-desirable circumstances.”

That made two of them. Still, there were definitely worse places to be forced into hiding than this opulent mansion. “Your house is very beautiful. It must be a pain in the neck keeping it so clean though.” The minute the words left her mouth, she remembered that he likely had a giant staff to take care of that issue.
Brilliant, Willa. Jeez.

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Justin chuckled. “Which reminds me, I probably should give Mrs. Crenshaw, my housekeeper, a sizeable raise to ensure she never abandons me for greener pastures.” He offered to take her on a tour of the rest of the house and she accepted. To his credit, Justin didn’t comment on Max’s insistence about staying glued to her side.

She also didn’t fail to notice how alert Max was the entire time, as if he expected Reva to pop out from a closet somewhere. That, of course, naturally made her spooked. So much so that by the time their little quartet reached the solarium, she was an itchy bundle of nerves.

Justin halted beside a lush hibiscus, his handsome features settling into a frown. “Perhaps I should request additional guards stationed throughout the property,” he said, as if he’d intuited the cause for her and Max’s agitation.

Max gave a terse nod. “It might not be a bad idea.”

“I don’t really remember much about my grandmother, you know. I was barely five when they told me she’d died.”

Her thoughts turned toward the death of her own parents—both the false memory and the one she’d been told of last night. She didn’t hold Reva’s transgressions against Justin. It wasn’t his fault his grandmother was a murdering bitch. “It must be incredibly difficult, having everything you thought you knew revealed as something else entirely.” She could more than relate to that reality.

Justin stared at her as if astonished that she’d been able to come to such a profound conclusion. “Yes. Exactly. I don’t know how to wrap my head around any of it, to be honest. Plus…” He dropped his gaze to the marble beneath his feet. “It makes me sick inside, knowing I share that woman’s DNA.”

She reached out and took his hand, intending to offer what little comfort she could, and gasped as a tingling shock crackled over her skin. The room tilted and went hazy, replaced in an instant by a sparkling pool. A child waded in its shallow depths—Justin. He was crying, big blubbery sobs. Another child bent over and scooped him up. It was Willa—a much younger version of herself. She turned and scolded someone off screen. “It’s mean to splash him like that, Drusi.”

“Willa?”

In a flash, she was back in the solarium. Justin was frowning at her. “Do you know my sister?”

She blinked. “Pardon?”

“You said her name just now. And something about splashing.”

“N-no. Sorry.”

Justin looked like he wanted to inquire further, but only ended up shrugging. “Perhaps we should see if your rooms are ready.”

Max felt like a caged tiger as he waited for Justin to bid them good night and retire to his own room. Finally the duke left them to their own devices, and Max shut the door to the lavish suite he and Willa were staying in. Trying to keep his excitement in check, he strode toward the silk lounge chair Willa was parked on. “You experienced a memory, didn’t you? A real one.”

“I’m not sure.” She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

“What happened in it?”

“I was in a pool, along with Justin. He was only four or so. I was reprimanding someone named Drusi for splashing him.”

“That’s his sister.”

“So I gathered, from what he said.”

“Baby, that can’t be an implant. Remember what Aurele said? The mind sweeper worked hard to instill your fear of water.”

She grimaced. “Yeah. I’d say he did an awesome job in that department.”

“Then why would he implant a memory where you’re in a pool? And not screaming your head off? Kind of defeats the whole point.”

“True.”

He joined her on the lounge chair, finally allowing his excitement some rein. “You’re starting to remember who you used to be.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself. It was a tiny little flash. Not even anything helpful, for Pete’s sake.”

“But it’s a start. Maybe your nymph is responding to this place, to its proximity to Atlantis. The portal is right out there, not even two hundred feet from where we’re sitting.” He took her hands, his thumbs massaging lightly over her dainty knuckles. “We could go there, right now, if you want.”

“To
Atlantis
?” Her pallor became ashen. “I—I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“Why? Sweetheart, the reflecting pool isn’t that deep. You don’t have to be afraid. It’s perfectly safe. I’ll protect you. Always.”

She stared at him, her eyes going wide.

He squeezed her hands. “What?”

“You’ve said that to me. Before.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Yes, you did. And you…”

“I what?” he prodded.

She gulped. “You left me to drown.” Her soft whisper was like a sucker punch to his gut.

He let her fingers slip from between his. “Baby, what the hell are you talking about?” The notion that she would even
think
him capable of such a thing gutted him. He would let himself drown before ever allowing anything bad to happen to Willa.

“It was in my dream.”

“Well there you go. It wasn’t real.”

“It doesn’t matter. I—I still don’t want to go there. To Atlantis.”

Frustration pounded within his chest, but he wouldn’t force the issue. Not when she was so obviously scared out of her wits. “Okay.”

Burrowing in to him, she rested her cheek on his biceps. “I’m sorry for letting you down.”

He smoothed back her hair. “You could never let me down, sweetheart.”

She crawled into his lap, holding him tight. Soon he detected her faint snores. Careful not to wake her, he straightened. With her curled in his arms, he walked to the king-sized bed and tucked her beneath the sheets. He quickly stripped and climbed in next to Willa, spooning her close to him. As he breathed in her sweet scent, a hollow ache settled in his heart.

Christ, he’d fallen head over fin in love with her. A woman who in every way was completely off limits to him if her identity was ever revealed. How much of a selfish bastard did it make him that he’d deliberately withheld the information from Justin when he should have come clean? He’d stood there in that opulent entry, surrounded by all the luxuries Willa was damn well entitled to, and he’d lied. Why? Because he’d taken one look at Justin—someone he’d always considered a good, honorable man—and been seized by insecurities. Suddenly Justin had become the competition. The perfect royal match.

He’d wanted to slam his fist into Justin’s nose. For absolutely no reason other than the duke’s fucking title. Yeah, that definitely made him feel like a bastard. But damn if he could do anything about it.

Just like he couldn’t do anything to change the fact that he was filled with conflicting desires when it came to Willa. On the one hand, he wanted so much to see her legacy returned and given its proper due. But that would mean giving her up. Eventually he’d be forced to endure the sight of another man holding Willa. Kissing her. Loving her.

When it should be him.

Chapter Eighteen

“You look amazingly alive for a dead woman.” Reva circled Aurele Telluride, her black eyes oily cesspools of hate.

“So do you,” Aurele shot back. “Just goes to show that even hell doesn’t want your evil ass.”

Reva backhanded Aurele, snapping her head sideways. Harrison stifled a yawn. Frankly, he was becoming bored with this tedious display. It’d been going on for the past hour and didn’t show signs of dwindling any time soon. He gazed toward the six other leviathans who were sprawled on the motel room’s double beds watching porn. Every once in a while they’d snicker at the cheesy soundtrack.

This was nothing like how he’d envisioned the beginning to his world domination.

“Tell me where the trident is!” Reva bellowed.

“How many damn times do I have to say it?
I don’t know
. And even if I did, I would sooner die than tell you anything.”

Menace darkened the duchess’s face. “You might get that wish granted.”

Worried that Reva might snap into demento mode again and kill the Telluride woman before they got the information they needed, he rushed to intercede. He shoved the duchess aside and crouched in front of the chair that their hostage was bound and tied to. He’d learned firsthand the considerable strength the older woman possessed when he’d cornered her inside her house, hence the reason they’d secured her with the extra length of rope. He was taking no chances with this one.

Calling upon every ounce of his glamouring power, he stroked the Telluride woman’s cheek.

“Keep touching me and I’ll feed you your own finger.”

“So says the woman currently tied to a chair.” He leaned closer. Staring into her eyes, he transmitted the magnetic waves that would lull her into submission. “This will go much better if you cooperate.”

Her pupils dilated. “I am.”

“Then tell us what you did with the trident.”

“I told you everything I know.”

“Liar,” Reva screamed.

Tweaking his nose, he glared up at the duchess. “Cool it, Shriekerella. I’m working here.”

Huffing beneath her breath, Reva flounced into the bathroom. Maybe if he was lucky, the damn pain in the ass would slip on the tile and break her neck.

He could hope.

Returning his attention to Aurele, he caressed her cheek again. She flinched but made no mocking boasts about relieving him of appendages. Despite her resistance, the glamour was wheedling past her defenses. He tapped her chin. “It’s no use, you know. Sooner or later, you will give me what I want.”

“Not likely.” Her smile turned crafty.

There was something she wasn’t telling him. That wouldn’t last long. He gripped both sides of her face, intensifying his magnetic output. “What are you keeping from me?”

He could feel her struggle for control, the helpless frustration clawing within her like a desperate beast frantic to escape. She let loose an angry moan. “The location has been wiped from my memory.”

The news filled him with cold rage, and he briefly debated what method of killing Aurele would best soothe the sting of having his time wasted this evening. But then it hit him. Rather than displaying the same gloating bravado as before, a raw-edged panic had laced her words. He decided to press her further. “But?”

Again she waged her silent battle before blurting out what he’d been waiting for. “It can be returned.”

“How?”

“The…mind sweeper.”

He smiled in victory. Now they were getting somewhere. “And the name of this mind sweeper?”

She jerked away from him. Grasping a hank of her hair, he yanked her head back. “The name.”