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Bewitched, Bothered, and Bitten Page 3
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Shannon hugged me. “You look gorgeous.”
I smoothed down the skirt of my dark blue dress. “Thanks. You both look fantastic.”
Shannon wore black, which wasn’t unusual, and Ricki wore red. I had to suppress a smile because Ricki must not have realized that wearing red while attending a vampire function alone was akin to wearing a halter top and miniskirt to a bar. It was guaranteed to capture attention and maybe even inspire a few crappy pick up lines. Then again, the shifters and vamps were pretty suave, so the pick up lines might be decent.
Ricki leaned closer, whispering, “He’s here.”
Confused, I asked, “Who?”
“Calder!” she hissed. “He’s here and…” She trailed off and stiffened as someone walked behind her.
I glanced up and realized it was Calder. He smiled and winked at me. I also noticed that he trailed his hand across the bare skin of Ricki’s back. Then he disappeared into the crowd.
“Holy shit, what the hell am I gonna do?” Ricki asked me, her eyes huge. “Every time I turn around, he’s right there!”
“Are you afraid he’s going to hurt you?” I asked.
“No,” she muttered. She fiddled with the halter neckline of her dress and I saw a small scar where her neck met her shoulder. It was obviously a bite.
My body tensed when I saw it. I leaned forward and pulled the strap of her dress a couple of inches to the side. She’d been marked. Yet, Calder was still keeping his distance and Ricki seemed to want nothing to do with him.
“Kerry, what are you doing?” Ricki sounded annoyed but also a little anxious.
I released the strap of her dress and stepped back slightly. “Who bit you?” I had a strong suspicion and, if I was right, it would explain a lot about Calder’s behavior.
Her face flushed. “Calder.”
“What’s going on, Kerry?” Shannon asked, her eyes sharp.
I met Ricki’s eyes. “You need to talk to Calder, and you need to do it soon.”
“You’re starting to freak me out,” Ricki whispered.
I grabbed her hand, squeezing it lightly. “Don’t be afraid, sweetie. I promise, it’s not bad. Remember what you and I were talking about this morning? How male shifters and human guys are very different from each other?”
She nodded.
I didn’t want to tell her everything, because Calder should really be having this conversation with her, but, I knew Ricki. She would avoid him as long as possible until she had no choice but to talk to him. I took a deep breath, not sure I was doing the right thing. “Well, when a shifter bites their partner deeply enough to scar, it’s sort of….marking their territory.”
“What?” Ricki’s voice was loud enough to have people around us turning to stare.
Realizing that I should have chosen my words more carefully, I grabbed Ricki’s other hand. “Wait, I’m sorry. It came out wrong. I just mean that a bite like that one, well, it’s a statement of intent. And it’s usually an indication that they are serious about that relationship.”
“WHAT?”
Shit. I should have kept my damn mouth shut and just told Calder to talk to her. Ricki knew next to nothing about werewolves and she had no idea what she was getting into. However, she was a strong, smart woman and I knew she would have her freak out then calmly consider the situation.
Ricki noticed that we were under scrutiny and lowered her voice, but it vibrated and I knew she was fighting not to scream. “So, you’re telling me that Calder did the werewolf equivalent of pissing on me to keep other men away and didn’t bother to mention it?”
“No, no. It’s not like that. Marking someone is instinctive for shifters. Especially during sex. They usually only mark one partner in their lifetime, though it’s not unheard of for a wolf to mark two, sometimes three partners, since they have longer life spans.” I didn’t mention that this marking instinct was part of their mating ritual and was only repeated if their mate was killed. No need to freak her out more than she already was.
Ricki’s face was pale. “So, biting me was his way of saying he was serious about me?” Shannon grabbed her arm as she swayed. Ricki blinked. “Then why would he have sex with another woman after he left me the night of the Halloween party?”
I took a deep breath. Things were about to get a hell of a lot trickier. “He wouldn’t.”
“Shit,” Shannon whispered. I knew Ricki had given her a rundown of what had happened as well, so she probably thought Calder had screwed other women that night too.
“Kerry.” Belinda’s low voice came from behind me.
Perfect timing, as usual. I glanced over my shoulder. “Hey, Belinda.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Can you give me just a minute and then we can find a quiet place for a conversation?”
Belinda nodded and stepped away slightly to give us a little privacy.
I turned back to Ricki in time to see her drain her wineglass. Her eyes were suspiciously bright when she looked at me.
“Thanks for telling me all this, Kerry. I’m going to the powder room and then I’m going to get drunk. I’ll see you later.” She hugged me and kissed my cheek before she walked away.
Shannon and I exchanged looks.
With a sigh, I asked, “Will you go with her? I think she’ll be fine, but I don’t want her to do anything she’ll regret later.” While Shannon was just as new to supernatural culture, she’d acclimated astonishingly fast. I knew she could comfort Ricki and probably scare off any lecherous vamps.
“Too late,” Shannon joked.
Unfortunately, she was right. Ricki was going to have to face the consequences of her night with Calder and, being uninformed of shifter customs, she would probably have difficulty dealing with them.
“I’ll find you later, okay?”
“Okay.” Shannon smiled. “I’m sure we’ll be somewhere near the bar, so we should be easy to spot.”
We both chuckled before she turned to follow Ricki.
I looked around until I found Belinda and walked over to her. “Hey.”
Her eyebrows rose at my familiar greeting. Though she was only a decade or so older than me, Belinda had a decidedly old-fashioned attitude towards etiquette. Still, she didn’t say a word about it, which surprised me. At the very least, I usually received a gentle reprimand.
“Why don’t we go outside for a bit?” she asked. “I could use some fresh air and there are things we need to discuss.”
“Sure.”
Yet again, she didn’t comment on my casual attitude toward her. Interesting. Usually, I did this to needle her, but it seemed to be useless tonight.
We walked through the house and out the back door. Since the evening was cool, there was no one out there except the two of us.
“So why did you need to talk to me?” I preferred to get straight to the point. Belinda rarely spoke to me, except at coven gatherings, so I didn’t feel the need to dance around the subject. I respected her, but I hated all the social niceties that she seemed to expect.
Once again, Belinda said nothing about my borderline rude behavior. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and studied me closely.
Accustomed to this, I was silent as I waited for her to answer my question. The High Priestess often looked at me as though she thought I must be from another planet. However, she was one of the few witches in the coven who treated me as a friend. Despite my sometimes bad attitude, she never shunned me or made me feel lesser because of who my father had been and what he had done. In fact, she’d known me since I was a child and often spent time at our house with my mother and me, studying, practicing spells, and asking question after question. The elders, well, they hated my guts and probably pestered Belinda weekly to kick me out of the coven.
“Tomorrow afternoon, I’ll be meeting with the vampire Council and the alpha of the MacIntire pack in order to hold a sort of diplomatic summit. It’s time for the different supernatural races to learn to coexist, because if we
can’t accomplish this, then I fear we will all perish.”
I wanted to believe that Belinda was being melodramatic, but she was one of the most gifted Seers of the coven. Her instincts were always spot on.
“Okay. Do you need me to handle some coven business while you’re busy there? I’m happy to do it.”
Belinda shook her head. “No, I want you to come with me.”
I almost choked. “Pardon me?” For once, I was polite.
The High Priestess’ eyes shimmered with amusement. “It’s time for me to begin training my successor.”
I didn’t speak, unsure where she was going with this conversation.
“It’s time for me to begin training you, Kerry.”
That was the last thing I expected her to say.
Chapter Four
The next morning, I stood in front of my closet with both hands on my hips, clad only in my underwear. What exactly did one wear to a meeting of the leaders of the supernatural species? I pulled out my charcoal pantsuit, but put it back almost immediately. As a plus size girl, the boxy jacket and pants made me look like a gray blob. I continued to dig through my closet, cursing Belinda under my breath. I couldn’t believe that she sprang all this on me the day before the meeting.
I pulled out a pair of black slacks and a knitted tunic with a cowl neck. It was dressy without being staid and, after a glance at my clock, I realized it would have to do. I pulled on the pants and sweater and stared at my shoe collection. Black pumps would be the obvious choice, but it was also the boring one.
Instead, I picked up a pair of pumps with a peep toe and a striking pattern of black, white, red, and yellow. They were uneven, random slashes of color, but I adored them. I predicted that Belinda would give these shoes a thinly veiled look of distaste, but I wasn’t going to change who I was because she suddenly decided I’d make a good successor. In fact, she and I would be having a conversation about that as soon as I saw her. I wasn’t at all sure I wanted the job of High Priestess. Ever. Not to mention the fact that the elders would likely conspire to have me removed if I accepted, perhaps even plan to do worse.
I hurried into the bathroom and swiped on some light make-up, just enough to make my cheeks glow and bring out my eyes. My curly brown hair refused to be tamed, so I rubbed a little product in it to fight frizz and hoped for the best.
Five minutes later, I was sliding gold hoop earrings in my ears and walking out the door with my purse. Though the meeting wouldn’t take place until later in the day, Belinda asked me to pick her up at ten. Probably because she knew I intended to interrogate her.
I drove the thirty minutes to Belinda’s home. She wasn’t very far away, but in Dallas traffic, even a short trip usually took a half hour. It always surprised me that she lived near Southern Methodist University. Then again, while she definitely wasn’t a Methodist, she was prim and proper and always slightly disapproving. So, maybe she fit right in.
I pulled into her driveway and walked up to her front door. She was quick to open the door when I knocked and I was surprised that she looked genuinely pleased to see me.
“Good morning, Kerry. Please come in.”
“Good morning, Belinda.”
She ushered me inside. “I’ll brew us some tea.”
I hadn’t been to her home in a long time and I was surprised by the bold colors and cozy feel. It certainly didn’t coincide with my perception of the High Priestess or my memories of her from the past. Honestly, I expected several shades of white and cream, blended with black and grey with a distinctly modern edge. Something a little cold.
Instead, she had cushy micro suede couches in navy, scattered with throw pillows in shades of teal, magenta, and lighter shades of blue. Her kitchen was beautiful, full of clutter and herbs on the counter near a huge window that looked into her back yard.
“Your home is beautiful,” I told her.
She smiled serenely as she put the kettle on a lit burner. “You seem surprised. Did you expect me to live in a cave or a dungeon?”
I had to smile in return. “No, it’s not that. Though I did expect a little bit of modern minimalism.”
Belinda brought the teacups to the table and paused. “You think I’m cold?” I thought I saw a glimmer of hurt in her eyes.
“Reserved and refined,” I answered.
“Very diplomatic response. Not exactly what I expected from you either.”
I laughed. “Good point. Tact is not one of my strengths. Still, I don’t think you’re cold, Belinda. I do think you have to keep yourself removed in some way due to your position in the coven.”
The kettle began to whistle and she poured the water into the warmed teapot and lowered the large tea ball into it. She brought the tea pot over and sat down, putting the pot on the table. Each motion was graceful and efficient.
Belinda folded her hands on the table in front of her, her eyes intent. “And that is why I chose you.”
“I’m sorry?”
She smiled a little. “I understand you, Kerry. I knew you would have a lot of questions, which is why I asked you to come here before we meet with the Council. I also know you were wondering why I chose you as my successor.” She paused to pour the tea. “And what you said a few moments ago is why. You have a great deal more wisdom than even I realized. Your personality may differ dramatically from mine, but, at your core, you have what it takes to lead the coven. In many ways, you are exactly like your mother.”
My chest hurt at her assertion that I resembled my mother. I liked hearing it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t make my heart ache. If my mother were here, she would be the High Priestess.
Belinda’s eyes grew distant, as though she were looking through the walls, out to something only she could see. “We need to begin your training immediately. Though you probably know everything you need to about coven politics, there is information only the High Priestess and her successor are privy to. We’ll begin today.”
Since my throat was tight, my only answer was a nod. We sipped our tea in silence for a few minutes. All I could think about was how proud my mother would be that I had been named successor and that I wasn’t certain I wanted to take on that responsibility. I was all too aware of the scrutiny Belinda had faced when she succeeded my mother. Just thirty-six at the time, many of the elders of the coven considered her to be too young. Now, four years later, she proved herself to be an excellent High Priestess.
“Since we have time, why don’t we have lunch before the meeting? You need to get up to speed on what’s happening and what will be discussed this afternoon.”
I blew out a sigh. “Yeah. That’d be a good idea.”
* * *
Two hours later, we were on our way to Lex’s home. The Council, the pack, and Belinda had decided to gather away from the Coven House, the large house that held our library, for security purposes. After my lunch with Belinda, I was nervous about the situation I was walking into. I had no idea how bad things had gotten.
Apparently, the Faction was no longer recruiting only vampires. Their reach was now extending into the shifter community. There were also rumors that Cornelius had acquired a powerful warlock to his ranks. That was unsettling. Black witches and warlocks practiced the darkest of magic; death magic. The law of magic states that what a witch casts, she receives in return. Warlocks and evil witches used spells to circumvent this law, casting their negative energy onto others. It was a never-ending cycle and it brought suffering to innocent people.
Every instinct I had screamed that this would be war. A war that could out the supernatural community to humans. If that happened, well, I’m sure the government would keep us in very comfortable testing facilities that supplied the finest sedation available. There was more than survival at stake. The outcome of this fight could change the future of supernatural beings forever.
My mood was somber as I pulled up in front of Lex’s home. It seemed the size of a vampire’s home was directly proportional to their age. The older they got,
the bigger the house. It must be nice to have centuries to build up your bank account.
Belinda was silent during the drive from the restaurant. After I turned off the car, she faced me. “Kerry, I want you to watch and listen during this meeting.” When I started to scowl, she shook her head. “Don’t take my words the wrong way. I’m not telling you to keep your mouth shut. I need you to watch the others closely. If you notice strange behavior or you think one of them is lying, I want you to use this.”
She handed me a truth amulet. They were hard to come by as the level of skill and power required to make them was rare among witches. This one was set in a bracelet in order to camouflage its purpose.
A truth charm was simple but only worked on one person if you were standing directly in front of them. An amulet could work in a much larger area and be used on multiple people. A witch would have to focus on the person speaking to see if they were being truthful. Each amulet was different based on the witch that created it. Some would have green for honesty and red for deception, others blue and yellow. My mother had been powerful enough to create them and, when I demonstrated that I would have the power as well, she taught me. I preferred to use white for honesty and black for deception. Rarely in life were things that clear cut, but it seemed poetic.
A truth was a truth and a lie was a lie. That was all the amulet could tell us. It couldn’t account for the intent behind the untruth, malice or protection. A wise witch wouldn’t rely solely on an amulet or charm, but also on her own instincts. That was something my mother drilled into me while teaching me about my craft.
“The amulet will remain purple for truth and orange for lie.”
Belinda’s words brought my focus back to the task at hand. “Are you suspicious of any one in particular?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I think they are all trustworthy, but I want to be sure I don’t believe that because I want to. I’ve wanted to establish a relationship with both the shifters and the vampires for a while. However, in situations such as this, I have to be sure I’m not placing the coven in danger.”