Paranormal Romance: The Witches' Prophecy (Calder Witch Series Book 2) Read online

  Kids? He brought kids into this? Veronica laughed internally. She swore he winked.

  “Ally is going to freak out when we get home,” Veronica agreed.

  “Are you kidding? Kristian is our real worry wort.”

  The woman’s face softened at the mention of children. Veronica tried to imagine a young Kristian and Ally yelling at them. The image of young Ally shaking her finger at them made her have to smother a laugh. The woman eventually let them get on with their shopping, but not before writing down the number and address of a nearby hotel for them.

  “That was sweet of her,” Veronica pocketed the hotel address, fully intending on forgetting it was there.

  “I think you forget that she assumed we were both ax murderers that were going to attack their precious customers.” Morgan pulled her into him with the arm that was already draped around her middle.

  “But they do look damn delicious,” Veronica muttered. “We need to get some clothing and get the hell out of here. How far away is your safehouse?”

  “Maybe fifty miles east of here.”

  She groaned. The power rush that she’d been feeling had been exhausted and she felt the lead weights forming in her feet. She needed to feed. Soon.

  “Are all of your missions like this?” Veronica asked as she picked out a pair of black leggings.

  Morgan shook his head. “This mission has been… a cluster fuck as they like to say. The witches are too prepared for us. It feels like all of their attention is on us right now.”

  Veronica moved on to the lingerie section, boasting a selection of basic underpinnings and paltry attempts at sexy things. She grabbed a basic black bra and a pack of underwear. She hadn’t purchased a package of underwear since...ever. There was nothing about it that felt appealing in any way. They were not silky, lacy, or attractive in the least.

  She paused, halfway out of the section when a thought struck her mind. It hit like lighting, driving home a thought that she had lost.

  “You still haven’t told me what Charley supposedly knew. You yelled at her after the…” she waited for a short, round woman to waddle past before she began again, “ attack in the alleyway. You’re hiding something from me and I can’t say that I appreciate it.”

  “She was supposed to be protecting you and it was up to me to jump in front,” an employee causally walked past, eyeing them conspicuously. “It was up to me to save your damn ass from a fire bolt.”

  She studied his face. His brown eyes were dark. “You answered my question far too easily for someone who avoided it like the plague last night.”

  “You don’t know what the plague was like.”

  She barked a laugh. “And you think you do? You were born on American soil, you old colonial fart. Quit. Changing. The. Subject.”

  Morgan quickly assessed the men’s section of the superstore. He grabbed a Mustang t-shirt and a pair of heavy duty jeans. They even had a picture of a lumberjack on the tag. Veronica wanted to laugh, but worry filled her mind. Why was he avoiding her question? What loop was she to be kept out of?

  “Did my brother ask you not to tell me?” she pressed.

  He looked about two seconds away from throwing down the clothes, grabbing her by the arm, and dragging her outside. Instead, he sucked in a deep breath. They were vampires. Technically, neither of them needed to breathe, but sometimes human habits stayed with them. The steady breath gave him time to collect himself.

  “It was supposed to be a capture mission. I was told to bag a witch and bring her to one of the safe houses. Charley was supposed to be your extra muscle if any of the witches decided to retaliate and take one of our own.”

  Veronica thought of Ryan, her heart feeling heavy. Charley should have been with him. He needed a demon on his shoulder more than she had.

  “That’s why you had the iron chain in the trunk. It hurts them the same way that silver hurts us. You could have…” her mind trailed off and she put it back on the right set of tracks. “What is the purpose of kidnapping a witch?”

  “Interrogation. They know something about Tessa that we don’t. Kristian wants to find out.”

  “These are Kris’s orders? My brother asked you to kidnap a deadly witch and ask her why she wants his girlfriend? What the hell was he thinking? What did your master have to say about this?”

  “My master?”

  “You know. The one that pulls all of your strings, Ally.”

  Morgan growled. He grabbed Veronica by the arm and jerked her close to him. “Only one woman pulls any of my strings.”

  He looked down at her with gold eyes. Did he mean her? Was she the woman that pulled his strings? If anything, she felt the like woman who got on his nerves. A superstore shopper whistled at them. He pushed away from her and grabbed another t-shirt from the table

  “Ally agreed with him. We need to know what it is about the human that makes the witches want to get their hands on her so badly. We need to know if that is a bargaining chip or a thorn in our side,” he said as he walked away.

  This time, Veronica lurched forward, grabbing his arm. She leveled a cold glare at him. “My brother’s love is neither a bargaining chip or a thorn.”

  “She’s been a lot of trouble lately,” he reminded her.

  “Then I guess I’m trouble, too. We wouldn’t have witches breathing down our necks at all if it weren’t for me.”

  “Are we having this conversation in a damned superstore?” he whispered. “What do you mean this is your fault?”

  Veronica opened her mouth to respond when the short woman in thick glasses rounded a corner to peer at them. Her mouth snapped shut. This conversation would have to be on hold. She sent Morgan a look, eyes shifting between him and the woman. He gave her a salute before grabbing Veronica by the arm and pushing her toward the front of the store.

  He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and fear while the cashier rung up their clothing. His hair flopped over his eyes, making them hard to read. Veronica’s stomach churned. Being a vampire didn’t make much of anything easier. Sure, she could kill a man with the flick of her wrist, but she couldn’t spend more than a few hours with Morgan without arguing. Was it supposed to be this hard?

  Once they dressed, Morgan hustled her out the front door. He pushed her towards a dark area to the side of the superstore. Women these days were warned to stay away from areas like that, Veronica thought.

  “What are you talking about?” Morgan pressed. “The witches aren’t after us because of you. They’re after Tessa for some reason.”

  “Maybe they do want Tessa, but their eyes have always been fixed on me. About a hundred and fifty years ago they were led by a high priestess named Leticia. I killed her.” Veronica filled him in on what happened in her past. She told him of the false friendship, of the kidnapping. It had been Veronica that the Calder had pulled from the cage first. She remembered Leticia’s smug face when she appeared in front of her cage door. They touched her with silver gloves, lifting her up to strap her onto a table. Even with her skin searing with pain, she had fought back.

  Veronica always wondered if it was killing her husband or striking down Leticia that had broken her spirit. There was still a fire burning inside of her, but it burned on top of the ashes of people who had claimed to love her and betrayed her.

  Morgan stood silent for a long moment. He looked off into the dark distance, eyes unmoving while his mind worked. Finally, his shoulders slumped.

  “I owe you an apology,” he said. “I never thought you were weak, but you are much stronger than I have ever given you credit for. The past few days you have been invaluable to this mission. You saved my life when my car went into the ravine. Hell, you carried me to safety and I rewarded you with a fucking rabbit.”

  “Damn skippy.”

  He gave her a look. “Not only that, you have been a captive of the Calder. You fought your way to freedom not only for yourself, but for your brother as well. That is impressive.”

  It warmed her
to hear those words. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to be valued for her strength. It meant nothing to be beautiful. She had fought, kicking and screaming to be alive today, but no one saw that when they looked at her. They saw her emerald eyes and her coiled, chestnut braids.

  “Never ask me to put your life on the line, but I would trust you with my own life. I love you, Veronica. Know that I always have.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her body. His hands moved to hold her without being asked. She was about to say something when a light swept over them.

  “Sir? Ma’am? Could you please step out into the light?”

  The woman with the glasses had called the cops on them after all. That was what they got for talking about witches and kidnapping in a superstore. The two vampires bolted into the night before the cops could move.

  Morgan reached over and grasped her hand as they ran.

  The safe house was a small warehouse on a back street in a city that Veronica couldn’t remember the name of. The windows had been boarded up with plywood to guard against the light. It looked like had someone tried to condemn it. They slipped past the metal doors and into the darkness. Veronica heard the click of a light and the room suddenly illuminated.

  Restaurant quality refrigerators lined the far wall, red packets hanging from hooks inside each one. The wall nearest her was lined with various weapons. She reached out, tracing the line of a long blade, wondering where Ally had stashed her toys.

  Morgan quickly crossed the room, reaching into the fridge and tossing a bag to her. She caught it in the air. She would have preferred a warm mug, but she would crack it open like a juice box if she had to. People seemed to think that the different blood types had different flavors, but Veronica couldn’t taste a different types as she drank. Instead, she could taste what their lives were like. She could taste sunny days spent with loved ones.

  She drank the last of the bag before turning toward Morgan. He was moving around the room quickly. Knives disappeared from the wall, disappearing into sheaths hidden on his body. Veronica wondered how long it would take her to find all the hidden blades on his body. She preferred a slow, meticulous strip search.

  “Morgan,” she called out. “I’m ready to help you through the rest of this mission. Whatever it takes. This is for Tessa and Kristian.”

  Morgan paused. He glanced over his shoulder and their eyes met. Veronica thought he would demand that she stay here for a moment. She refused to wait for her babysitter to arrive. Instead, he nodded and tossed her a bandolier of small knives.

  “It should be about the right size for you. Sorry you have to use Ally’s equipment, but it’s the only stuff that will fit you.”

  Her heart lifted. This wasn’t how she pictured her future with him, but she liked this. Maybe she was masochistic or, maybe, she needed a purpose. Spending your days reading smutty novels and taking long baths was alright. Luxury was needed sometimes, but she realized how sedentary she’d become in the last fifty years.

  Now, it felt as though their lives were on the line every second they were together and she had never felt more alive. She set the bandolier down and crossed the room. Grabbing a fistful of his Mustang shirt, she pulled him into a deep kiss. Once his surprise faded, his hands snaked around her. They gripped her as if he’d float away if she didn’t hold him down.

  “We… should… get out… of the sun,” he whispered between kisses.

  Her tongue pushed into his mouth, scraping along his canines, before she pulled back. Both of their faces were flush from having just eaten. For the first time, Morgan pushed his hair away from his face and smiled down at her.

  Morgan wrapped his fingers with hers and gently pulled her toward a knot in the wood floor. He hooked his finger into the hole and Veronica could hear a soft click. The floor lifted to reveal a dark stairwell.

  “So that’s where Ally keeps her toys,” Veronica joked.

  Morgan threw her a look that said he was not amused. Veronica stuck her tongue out at him before they descended into the darkness. The trap door closed behind them and no one would be the wiser. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness.

  Beneath the warehouse was a small apartment. There were several, narrow dorm beds on the far side of the apartment. Before that was a collection of black chairs around a card table. Poker chips littered the floor around the card table as if someone had thrown a fit upon losing and flipped the table. To her right was a door.

  “Holding cell?” Veronica jerked her thumb toward the door. She imagined cold, metal chairs with bindings. A two way mirror would have been nifty, but maybe she watched too many crime dramas lately.

  Morgan didn’t say anything as he reached for the doorknob with his free hand. He led her into the room, his hand slipping away from hers just long enough for him to light a series of lanterns. They glowed softly, the gentle light illuminating a soft, four poster bed.

  “The dorm beds are for the big missions, when a bunch of us have to be here at once. But, when I come here alone I like to use this room. Never brought anyone in here with me, though.”

  Morgan’s hands found her hips and walked her toward the bed. They made love on the bed, a new fire burning in each of them. At times, they were rough and at times, they were gentle with one another. But, a line had been crossed. It made them into one creature.

  Part III

  Veronica and Morgan were laying in bed, enjoying a little post coital cuddling, when an alarm went off. It was a high-pitched kind of sound that made Veronica’s ears hurt. She closed her eyes, wincing. Morgan slipped out of bed and quickly tapped a key on the computer in the corner. The screen lit with the image of the cracked concrete outside the front door. A squat woman shifted from foot to foot on the concrete. Beside her was a taller, younger woman with her arms crossed over her chest.

  Morgan threw a questioning glance at Veronica. She shook her head.

  “I didn’t order dinner,” she joked.

  He threw her a look that said it wasn’t funny. She thought it was. “No one knows that this is anything other than a condemned building. Why the hell are these women knocking on the front door?”

  Morgan rushed around, attempting to find his lost pants. Finally, he found them half shoved beneath the bed. He tugged them on as she shuffled toward the door.

  “You aren’t going to answer that, are you?” Veronica sat up straighter in bed, the sheets falling away from her breasts.

  Morgan took in her bare skin and lost all thoughts of what he was supposed to do for a moment. He’d spent the previous night enjoying every bare inch of her that he could find. She was his lioness, his love.

  “Damn it, woman. I have to at least make sure we aren’t being surround by Calder witches who could burn down the place on top of our heads.”

  “I guess you have a point. Let me get dressed at least.” Veronica hurried to pull on her lost leggings and threw his Mustang shirt over her head. Silently, she bounded up the stairs after him.

  On the ground floor, they eased open a boarded window and slipped into the dark. Morgan crept around one side of the building while Veronica took the other. Using her preternatural speed, she darted between the narrow trees. She moved out and back, scoping the area. But, they were blessedly alone.

  Except for the women out front.

  Veronica made her way toward the front. The older woman waited patiently, playing with her cell phone as she waited. Veronica could hear the sounds of a popular mobile game as the woman flicked her finger over the illuminated screen. She showed the effects of a long life, her body round in places that meant she’d had children, maybe several. Her black and gray hair was tied back into a thick brain that crawled down her spine. Her hands were littered with thick rings and a series of bangles covered her wrists. She looked nothing like the Calder witches they’d come across. Every now and then, she would cock her head and glance around. She looked into the dark, eyes eerily stopping where Veronica stood. She shouldn’t
be able to see her.

  She couldn’t, could she?

  She waggled her chubby fingers at Veronica and she felt her stomach drop. The other woman’s eyes followed her companion’s gaze, face twisting into a sour look. She clearly did not want to be here.

  “I can tell you’re out there,” the older woman called out. “Don’t be alarmed. I only have a couple questions for you and then we’ll be on our way.”

  Against her better judgement, Veronica crept out of the dark. Logic said to run after the days they’d been having, but her instincts screamed to move forward, to talk to her. She straightened her spine, reaching her full height. She was terribly tall for a woman, just shy of six feet. While it hadn’t helped her in life, it was rather useful as a vampire. She could strike an imposing figure.

  “I believe there should be another one of you prowling around here,” the woman glanced around herself. “A delicious looking fellow. Hair the color of dark chocolate.”

  Morgan pounced from the shadows. The woman found herself against the building. She gasped for air, legs kicking beneath her. Uselessly, her long nails clawed the air in front of Morgan’s face.

  “Who are you, witch?”

  The younger woman startled before throwing her hands out, lips moving. The older woman put her hand up to stop her. The younger woman did not like it, but Veronica could see who was in charge between the two. The younger woman’s arms slumped by her sides, useless.

  “P-put me down, animal,” she was able to rasp out.

  The older woman’s feet mercifully hit the concrete once more, but Morgan made no move to back away. He looked down at her, face completely unamused.

  “Well, you aren’t wrong,” she began. “I am a witch, but probably not the kind you’re thinking of if you welcome visitors like that. The Calder may be distant cousins, but there is no fond blood between us. We are descendants of the witches that left the violent life of the Calder.”