Warlock's Charm (10 page)

She jumped at the sound of a firecracker exploding outside
of their mansion. It took only seconds for the chaos to run through the house,
and she could hear servants woken from their nightly slumber dashing around the
place half-dressed.

Loud rapping at their door made her jump out of bed and run
over to the large wardrobe to see if she could find something suitable to wear.
She reached for a white satin nightgown and dressing gown with matching
slippers.

It seemed as if Damien had everything figured out. He’d
fully stocked Silver Gables, getting it ready for the time when they could live
together under its roof and make plans for their future together.

Still, heaviness lodged in her throat and in her heart. Ebony’s
visit seemed more like a forewarning to her. It was as if she wanted to dispel
her worries about Damien so the two of them could be a united front when danger
stole in to ruin their happiness.

Her mother had existed much the same way. She’d constantly
been on the lookout for malice intent in strangers and now Anya knew why. She’d
always been distressed that somehow, someway a dark force would ruin their
tranquil paradise by destroying it much like her own happiness had been gutted
as a young teenager.

Anya never fully appreciated her mother’s stalwart resolve
to protect her family at all costs and often wondered why she’d never been allowed
to wander far from Angelica’s mystical sight of protection. Angelica had gone
through a hell she’d never wanted visited upon Anya and that was what drove her
to be so overly protective.

Once Anya was suitably covered, Damien opened the bedroom
door. Reeves stood with a flashlight in hand, shaking visibly.

“Sir, we have some uninvited guests on the grounds…they are
wearing the blood-red cloaks and skull and crossbones mark of your
grandfather’s coven of witch hunters, The Bloodbaynes. They are burning
effigies on stakes on the South Lawn. Kildare, the groundskeeper, thought they
were actual humans at first until he inspected the horror further and found
them to be dummies. He was able to call back to the house with an update before
they captured and restrained him.”

“I will deal with this outrage,” Damien said. Shock, horror
and fury shone back at her when he turned to meet her gaze. “You must stay
here, Anya. I can’t risk their acrimony being directed at you and you getting
hurt in the crossfire.”

“What about you? I won’t let you go out there alone, they
are madmen!”

“They will not view me in the same light as you, as much as
I loathe admitting it. I have Asher blood in my veins.”

“Your father denounced that blood, and you know you are more
a Forsythe than an Asher,” she pointed out, exasperation tingeing her voice.

“They will not recognize that. As a Ross you will be the
focus of their antipathy. Please, I implore you to stay here.”

“I will stay in the house to guard it against any intruders
but mark my words, Damien, I will defend what is mine—and I have had more
practice at engaging these upstarts in battle. You haven’t fought a real
magical duel in over a decade.”

“My skills might be a bit rusty, Anya, but they are still
there. Trust me, darling, I’m no pushover.”

“I do trust you.” Her heart raced so fast in her chest she
felt like it would burst out of it.

She had no choice in the matter, she had to allow Damien to
go out there and feel like a big bad boss. If she didn’t, she risked
emasculating him and that was something she didn’t want to do in front of a
crowd of people comprised mostly of men.

Dashing over to him, she kissed him long and hard. “Don’t
come back here with a mark on you or I’ll hunt down that warlock, turn him into
wax and throw him on a fire. I’ll dance around it merrily while he burns.”

He grimaced. “I don’t think you’d take it that far, my love.
You are not a practitioner of the dark arts.”

“Sometimes—when faced with this kind of evil, I almost feel
like fighting the same way they fight. But then I realize I’d be climbing down
into the gutter with them, and I don’t want to go that low.”

“You are my dark angel. You could never do the heinous acts
they commit. Your heart isn’t blackened like theirs.” He kissed her again and
left with Reeves.

As they walked down the long hallway, she watched him place
his hand comfortingly on Reeves’ shoulder, and that slight gesture of
encouragement did the job for Reeves relaxed visibly. She’d never thought to
ask if any of the servants employed at Silver Gables were gifted with magic. She
should have, for she now prayed that some of them had a touch of magic so they
could help defend the house against the witch hunters.

Anya shut the door carefully and turned back to survey an
empty room. She wished that Ebony would return and keep her company. The sound
of the door clicking as it opened caused her to turn back around and the sight
she saw made her blood run cold.

Oliver White stood resolutely in front of the door. She
never should have transformed him back. Her eyes went to the item of jewelry he
wore around his neck.

“I thought your husband was never going to leave…he’ll have
a rough time of it out there with my father’s raucous crowd. They don’t play
nice, Anya.”

“What do you want and however did you come into possessing
my family’s amulet?” she demanded angrily.

He stole her breath away with his reply.

“Your family is my family.”

“Impossible,” Anya whispered, backing away from him so she
stood closer to the door that led to the expansive balcony.

“It’s quite possible. In fact, you can see the evidence
before you. If I wasn’t a Ross this amulet would not allow me to do this.”

He touched it and a willowy, wispy scene of the past
unfolded between them. She saw her mother in a bed looking as if she had just
given birth. She was sweaty and looked exhausted not to mention that Anya could
hear a baby crying in the background.

Her mother was begging to see the child and a man’s voice
ordered the doctor and nurse to take it away. Her mother still wore her collar
of captivity, making Anya’s stomach lurch with revulsion.

“I’ve seen enough. I don’t want to see any more,” Anya
whispered, pain clawing at her insides.

“That bastard you hear in the background is my father—the
baby was me.”

Her heart froze in her chest. “My mother always told me I
wasn’t her first child, I just assumed…”

“That her first child had died?” he asked in a soft whisper.
“I survived. I also bet you always thought our mother’s firstborn was with your
father.”

She closed her eyes against the searing pain soaring through
her. She had been on an emotional roller coaster for the last few months and
her body was exhausted by the toll it was wreaking on her.

“How did you get the amulet?” she whispered, her voice
barely audible. She reached her arm out and rested her hand against the wall so
she could maintain her balance.

“Before Damien hired me, I knew who you were. I was at your
wedding lurking in the shadows. When I saw the amulet, a chord struck inside of
me and I had to have it. After I saw you throw it away I waited and followed
Damien. He was so overcome by losing you that he never noticed me on his trail.
Once I knew where he stashed it, I returned in the dead of the night and crept
past the security alarms into the house and helped myself to my birthright.”

Haltingly, she walked over to the nearest chair and sat.

“The amulet is not yours. It doesn’t belong to either one of
us. It belonged to Ebony Ross.” Her voice was still strained. She closed her
eyes and prayed for the ability to get through this latest trial.

“My grandmother and yours,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“If what you say is true then yes, she’s our grandmother,
but we can’t claim the amulet as our own, as it would rightly belong to our
mother…who is unaccounted for at the moment.”

“Where is she?” he asked, worry creasing his brow.

“With my father, so don’t worry. I’m sure she’s perfectly
safe. She got lost in the Badlands.”

His face mottled with red fury. “And you haven’t gone
looking for her?”

“I told you, my mother is always safe with my father and he
is always safe with her—she is in full possession of her powers. I trust her. She
told me long ago if she ever went missing with my father that I was not to
follow. I always obey her and besides, I know her far better than you do so
stop questioning me.” Her voice rose to a fevered pitch; she wasn’t exactly
appreciating his near interrogation of her.

“Why should I trust your father? Our mother would want to
finally see me. I want to know her…I want her to know that I am not the monster
that terrorized her for so many years.”

“My mother is a frighteningly forgiving woman, and if you
are the baby she had taken from her, there is nothing for her to forgive when
it comes to you. I’m just surprised, as I knew she grieved for you—she wouldn’t
talk about it, the pain was too much and I know she believed you to be dead. If
she knew you were alive, she would have returned for you.”

Men shouting out on the grounds caught her attention followed
by a woman’s horrified scream.

Adrenaline pumping through her, Anya ran past Oliver and out
into the grand hall. Moving over to the stairwell’s banister, she stared down
into the foyer below and saw one of their maids standing with blood dripping
from a gash on her forehead. Activating her powers, she leaped over the railing
and floated the long distance to the ground.

The maid was still crying, slumped to her knees on the
floor. She moved cautiously toward the woman and took her dressing gown off so she
could wrap it around her.

“What’s your name?” she asked softly, realizing the woman
needed reassurance.

“Melanie,” the young woman sniffed.

Anya inspected the wound. It wasn’t that deep but she’d need
a healer or a healing patch soon. Taking the tie to the robe, she wrapped it
around her head like a bandage so it would sop up some of the blood.

“Melanie, when we’re done here, you need to go to the
kitchen and get that wound attended to. I’m sure that Mrs. Beetle is adept at
healing up cuts like yours—and hopefully Silver Gables is equipped with a healing
kit that works like magic. However did you come by it?”

“I…” Melanie looked unwilling to confess what she must have
thought was an unforgivable sin.

“You must tell me in order for me to fix it.”

“I was in the groundskeeper’s house. Kieran Kildare can be
so charming and his smile—” Melanie sighed dreamily. “I was in his bed,
mistress. We’re not supposed to mess around with the male servants—Mr. Reeves
will sack me for this and I can’t lose such a well-paying job.”

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen, Melanie. Continue your
story, I need to hear all of it,” Anya said, pressing her forward.

Melanie gulped back her tears, and let out a sniffle. “I
followed Kieran out when he went to confront those devils…one of them smacked
me in the head and he was wearing an awfully hard signet ring. That’s what did
this to me,” she said, touching the bloody gash. “Kieran went to defend me and
the Bloodbayne goon hit him with a most frightful hex and Kieran fell. He looked
so deathly pale I think he might be dead,” she wailed, shivering in her shock.

“He’s not dead,” Anya soothed. If anyone had died on these
grounds she would know. Death hadn’t revisited this place—yet.

And Anya had to take quick action to make sure it didn’t
make a return visit anytime soon.

Anya looked angrily at the open door. She could still hear
the furious raging. When she singled her hearing to one voice in particular,
her heart skipped a beat. She heard the unmistakable rage in Damien’s voice.

He couldn’t possibly think he could take them all on but by
the sound of it, he feared the fires from the burning effigies would spread to
the house and the other homes built on his expansive estate.

Anya needed to intervene now before those bastards caused
another living nightmare like the one Ebony had been consumed by.

“Impressive bit of witchcraft you just displayed there,
sister.” Her body jerked at the sound of Oliver’s voice.

She’d put him to the back of her mind, hoping he would just
evaporate. Apparently, luck was not on her side tonight.

“Tell your father to take his daft witted clowns and go
home,” she said, steel in her voice.

She would not tolerate this any longer. The madness had to
end and if she had to kill Raymond White in order to do it, she would not
hesitate. Her mother taught her that killing was the last option—if she could
avert it she would try—but if he forced her hand…

“I am afraid he will no longer listen to me. He thinks I’ve
turned against him,” Oliver said softly.

“Have you?” She turned to confront him.

“I have,” he replied, meeting her gaze and holding it. Either
he could look into her eyes and tell her an all-out lie—or he was speaking the
truth. Could she risk not putting her faith in him? “I am on your side, sister.
You don’t have to worry about me ever betraying you and siding with my bastard
of a father.”

“Come with me, Oliver, and stay behind me,” she muttered. “If
you are being forthright with me I don’t need you getting in my way—or getting
caught in the crossfire.”

In hindsight, she should have kept the amulet but then she
was learning that the charmed life her mother planned for her was slipping off
the rails at the moment.

“Take yourself to the kitchen, Melanie, and wait there with
the other servants until I return with my husband.”

Wild-eyed, the maid looked up at her. Her eyes were
bloodshot and swollen from crying, her nose was red, she looked like she’d been
to hell and back—and if she’d come into contact with the Bloodbaynes, she had.

“They have an awesome power, mistress. I don’t think you
should go out into the path of their hellfire, please stay here and wait until
the authorities arrive…they shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Don’t worry about me, I like playing with fire.” She winked
at the maid, stood up regally and walked out the door, grimly determined to
meet her fate.

* * * * *

Damien wanted to smash the head of every man in the gathered
posse. The problem was, they were all part of his grandfather’s coven and he’d
recently reached out to them to procure the drug he’d needed to incapacitate
Anya. He never should have walked that road and now he was paying for it
dearly.

“I will not say it again, Raymond, get off my lands and for
the love of Vanguard, extinguish the fires. They are scaring my workers!” He
stood next to his groundskeeper who was unconscious on the ground. The man who
had punched his maid in the face now lay in a bloody heap on the ground not far
from Raymond.

Raymond’s gaze moved from Damien to rest on something
directly behind him. His eyes widened in terror, and the arrogant sneer that
had been on his face vanished completely. “No, it’s not possible…she can’t have
risen from the ashes!”

Damien whirled about and the sight that instilled such fear
in Raymond’s eyes and the breathtaking vision made fear rush through him as
well but his was a different kind of trepidation.

She was supposed to stay in the house…she never listened to
him!

“Raymond White, you shall pay for your crimes against the
innocent women and children of Vanguard Prime!” Anya said in her commanding
voice.

“Ebony Ross,” Raymond whispered, blanching visibly under the
stress of believing he was seeing a ghost.

Raymond backed up a few paces. Anya had scared him witless! “Burn
her!” Raymond ordered.

Those warlocks talented enough to conjure fire did as they
were commanded and shot out bursts of flames in her direction.

“No!” Damien screamed, releasing a concussive blast with his
magic that rendered everyone around him unconscious.

The fire would consume her soon, he only hoped that any
witness would not see what happened when the fireball engulfed her body—her
most unusual gift wasn’t something he wanted everyone to know about. It was
better kept a secret.

The Magical Authority of Vanguard would be here shortly, as
his butler had called for them as soon as they’d starting burning witch
effigies on the grounds. After his father forsook his birthright and married a
Forsythe, a new style of government on Vanguard was introduced and with it a
policing force of warlocks and witches straight from Earth.

This police force had no bias when it came to any of the
magical families on Vanguard and only sought to protect the peace and the
individuals who could be harmed by the extreme use of black magic.

The blaze consumed her and lit her in a most glorious light.
Had they been actually burning her, he would have been distraught beyond
reasoning but as it were they hardly tickled her… In fact, he didn’t even know
if she felt the inferno licking her skin or not.

For the first time, he noticed Oliver White standing a short
distance behind where Anya levitated and by the looks of things, he wore the
Ross Amulet.

What the hell was going on?

“Damien, you sick son of a bitch, aren’t you going to help
her?” Oliver called out, anger lacing his voice.

“I don’t need his help,” Anya shouted.

She flung her arms out wide and let out a triumphant scream
as the fire went out. Smoke billowed through the clearing as she used her magic
to put out the burning effigies.

Her energy spent, she slumped to the ground.

“What the fuck was that?” Oliver demanded.

With a weak smile, Anya stared up at Damien.

“Don’t tell him. I’ll hit him with a jinx and we’ll erase
his memory, my love,” Damien said, only seeking to protect Anya.

“Steady on there, Forsythe. I’m not about to let you do anything
to me. I think you’d find I’m a fair bit stronger now that I wear this,” Oliver
said, cupping his hand around the amulet.

Damien narrowed his gaze at him. “I’d still fight you if I
had to,” he growled fiercely.

“Damien, don’t,” Anya pleaded. “It is fine, he should know… He
had his chance to betray us and he didn’t. You just saw my rare gift—rare
ability for a witch, that is—and I was blessed by it because of what my
grandmother did. She sacrificed herself for me and my mother when she could
have kept fighting—had she not cared what fate befell her daughter. She was a
mother. She had to think of Angelica first, and she did.”

“It doesn’t sound like our mother fared so well.”

“She survived,” Anya muttered, pain filling her eyes. “I
don’t think it was what Ebony envisioned for her, but she eventually found her
happily-ever-after. When our grandmother sacrificed herself she gave my mother
and me one gift that has and will continue to serve us well—we are immune to
fire.”

Damien ran his hands over her bare arms to find them cool to
the touch and gathered her hands into his own. “I never quite believe it until
I see and feel it,” he murmured, kissing her passionately on the lips.

“You are an abomination!” Raymond White screamed, rising
from the unconscious state that Damien had thrown him into. “You will be
cleansed,” he shrieked, raising his arms to the heavens.

The bastard was attempting to conjure lightning so he could
kill Anya.