The Witch of the Prophecy Page 5

  Two faces, frozen midlaugh, stared back at him. Their mouths opened wide with blue tongues clearly on display. Vampires didn’t need to eat food to survive. They needed blood to survive. When attempting to blend in and appear human, a vampire could consume food to keep up the illusion of life. Unless a cute little gypsy swears you will like the flavor of some blue lollipop with gum in it.

  The lollipop had been horrible. Too sugary. The color simply from chemicals. But it had made Divina laugh, which made Rori laugh. Divina had such an infectious laugh. He ran his finger down the side of the photograph. They had been happy once.

  With a sigh, Rori tucked the picture back in the book. He had no idea which page it dropped out from where she was using it as a book mark. She would know he had found the book. The bottom of a trunk, wrapped in scarves wasn’t an ingenious hiding spot. So there was no point in attempting to find the picture’s original place in an attempt to mask his snooping.

  Thumbing through the pages some more, he found what he had hoped he wouldn’t. One of the pages had some handwriting on it. Fresh. Divina’s. He turned the book to see she had written all along the side margins. She had attempted to adjust some spell, to add to it.

  Rori wasn’t a witch. He didn’t know what these things meant. He had learned enough to start Divina on her journey; his purpose, according to the Ember Witches. He couldn’t cast spells or anything, but he did know the steps and the words. However, based on the book’s alterations Divina had been studying. She had already surpassed what little he knew.

  He looked to the front of the vardo. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

  Divina shouted at the phone before tossing it to the passenger seat of the beat-up pick-up she drove. The phone bounced off the bench seat and landed somewhere up against the passenger side door. “Great!” she groaned. “Exactly what I needed.”

  Rori had already put a giant wrinkle in her day. Not only did she have to cut her work short and risk losing some income, now she was going out of her way to find out exactly what he was after. It was the only way she’d rid herself of him and then the game would be over.

  She would no longer be blinded by his charm. She’d be a step of ahead of him, instead of the other way around, and this time she’d be the one to walk away. She’d be the one to disappear while he slept, while he’d be the one left with questions and she’d move on with her life for good.

  She had let him stay in her home and had even covered him with six blankets when she had to leave the vardo to do some laundry, just to protect him from the sun. The least he could do was to be forthcoming about what he wanted, why he showed up. But, no, he didn’t. He had to be all mysterious. So, of course, she had to go through his things and make her own connections. It was really all his fault she had to be so intrusive.

  Maybe the time had come for her to meet those Ember Witches. Tired of them going through Rori to get to her, she’d make him take her to them. She was an adult, goddamn it, they needed to treat her like one. She could speak for her damn self. She would march right up to them and demand they stop this ridiculousness.

  There was just one problem: Divina had no idea where they were. Sure, Rori had told her about them, saying they had sent him to guide her with nothing but good intentions. He had encouraged her to join them. However, he had neglected to tell her their location. Pretty hard to go to them if she didn’t know how to find them.

  Then again, he’d taught her the locator spell. When he waltzed into her life all sly charisma and charm, she’d fallen for him far too easily. She hadn’t a clue about witches or vampires or wolves before she met him. In the year they’d spent together, he’d patiently shown her the possibilities of her own potential while introducing her to the world of the supernatural she never knew existed all around her. A world of wonder opened up around her, she hadn’t a prayer in the world against falling in love with him then. When he left, without so much as a post-it explaining why, he damaged them. Maybe his coming back and not telling her what he really wanted was some sort of test, which she had failed. Instead of using spells, she’d relied on her human skills and only used magic when he jammed it in her face again.

  From the little bit of snooping she did, she at least narrowed them down to a city in the United States. She really should have known, however. Where else would the most powerful coven be located? So she packed everything up and set off for New Orleans.

  Chapter 8

  The pitch-black sky above sparkled with the bevy of stars. Midnight approached and the waning crescent moon offered little light when Divina pulled the truck into the rest stop. There was no way to be inconspicuous when traveling with a brightly painted, intricately carved, wooden wagon. So, in an attempt to limit the curiosity of others, Divina parked the rust bucket and the vardo in the back, far away from the restaurant and gas station.

  After retrieving her phone from the pit of napkins and empty water bottles, Divina exited the cab of her truck and moseyed her way to the vardo. She expected Rori to leap out and complain about her driving.

  She paused at the door of the wagon, waiting. Nothing happened. That couldn’t be good. What was he up to?

  Yanking the door open, Divina charged in. She looked to her right, nothing out of place. Her gaze swept left and found Rori. He was sprawled across her couch with his legs crossed at the ankle. A book blocked his face from her view.

  Heat rose in Divina’s cheeks. Balling her fists at her sides, she marched up to him and snatched the leather-bound journal from his hands, she gawked at his intrusion.

  “Have you no sense of a person’s privacy?” she growled.

  With his hands in the same position, as though he still had the book in them, he turned his head ever so slightly to face her. Miming as though looking around the book, he regarded her. Struck with his pale appearance, concern doused her ire slightly. He was too pale.

  “This, from the woman who frisked a man while he slept?” he said with a wry smile.

  Divina lifted her chin and held the journal to her chest. “This is private.”

  Slowly, Rori lowered his hands. Turning his body, with deliberate movements, his feet swung to the floor. He never broke his intense gaze on her.

  “I wasn’t aware my pockets were public domain,” he said.

  Walking across the cramped space to the cabinet which held her herbs, dry goods, and other things she may need, Divina found room to breathe. Undoing the bungee cord holding it all in place, she opened the cabinet. She pressed her lips to the journal before placing it between a box of macaroni and a jar of sage sprigs.

  “You’ve been a very busy girl,” Rori whispered in her ear from behind her.

  She whirled around, surprised at his proximity. Having not heard his footsteps or sensed his approach left Divina startled, so she glared at him once she regained her composure.

  “That is none of your business,” she snapped.

  “I told you to join a coven.” Rori frowned. “You’re meddling with things beyond your comprehension.”

  Outstretching his arms, Rori filled her personal space. Her pulse ticked up as an unexpected uneasiness spread in her chest. Caging her in with the open cabinet to her back and him to her front, the coolness of his body contributed to her unexplained discomfort.

  She had once found the closeness of his body to hers intoxicating. At one point in time, it had made her knees weak. However, things had changed.

  “Wasn’t it you who said I was one of the great powers of the world?” she asked, annoyed.

  Reaching behind her she fumbled with the jars. Believing she had the right one, she shoved it between them. With tight lips she kept her gaze locked on him to witness his reaction.

  Silver, probably the most powerful substance known to supernatural creatures, was an excellent repellant for things that lurked in the night. Rori’s brown gaze trickled down to the jar and the smirk upon his face fell. He stepped back a few paces before lifting his wounded eyes toward her.

 
While no words were exchanged about what she produced, the message, she hoped was clear. Divina wasn’t going to be manipulated so easily. She had learned things and would fight back this time.

  Replacing the jar of silver powder, Divina closed the cabinet. She reattached the bungee. She waved, curled, and twirled her fingers while mumbling an incantation.

  Locked.

  Now Rori wouldn’t be able to go through that cabinet again. She turned back to him and gave him a triumphant smile.

  “All the more reason you need proper guidance,” Rori responded smugly.

  Divina narrowed her eyes at him unsure if her irritation was with his invasion of her privacy or because he was right.

  Looking around her meager abode, she took inventory. There were nooks and crannies for storage everywhere. Having meant to cast spells to make it so snoops couldn’t get in—another thing to put on her list of things to do once Rori was asleep again, she had no excuses to procrastinate anymore.

  In her sweep of the place, she caught Rori’s eye roll. “If you think I haven’t already searched your little hiding spots, you underestimate me.”

  Divina grumbled about nosy vampires before she moved past him and flopped on the couch. “So why are we going to New Orleans?” she asked.

  Rori stayed on the other side of the one-room wagon. He leaned against the now spellbound cabinet with his arms crossed.

  “You tell me, kidnapper,” he teased.

  “I’m just trying to figure out what you want,” she said.

  “I told you what I want. I want your help to save the world.” He grinned.

  Divina noticed the strain in his expression. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. The lines around his features seemed deeper than when she last saw him. His coloring was paler than it should be.

  Rori wasn’t the oldest vampire in existence, but he was up there, having seen his share of centuries. In her time of knowing him, and learning about vampires, Divina had discovered that the older a vampire got, the more manageable the hunger became and the better their ability to manage it. She had seen Rori hungry before; this was beyond just hunger. Something weighed on Rori’s mind. Why wouldn’t he tell her?

  “How, exactly, am I supposed to help you save the world?” she queried.

  Rori shifted his posture. He looked away from her toward the window. Something caught his attention a moment before he looked back at her. “Do you see that woman out there?” He pointed.

  Divina groaned, pushing herself from the couch. Why couldn’t he just tell her?

  Outside the window a woman smoked a cigarette. She had loose skin and should have worn a dress a size bigger. Her wavy, bleached, stringy hair was an awful shade of blond with dark roots. The heels she wore were not practical for the gravel pavement she was on.

  “Why am I looking at a hooker?” Divina asked.

  “She is a lady of the night, show some respect,” Rori admonished from behind her.

  He pressed his body against her back. The coolness trickled up her spine. She couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that cold. She was pinned again, this time between the small sink and Rori.

  Divina shivered. He needed to eat. She needed space from him. It nagged at her that his presence still affected her. She cursed silently at the thought.

  “She is here to seduce men, to lure them into her den, and to give them pleasure in exchange for cash. Don’t belittle her skills, Divina. Not many can perform them,” he whispered into her ear in a sensual voice that still made her knees weak.

  Gods help her.

  Divina tilted her head away offering him her neck. For a brief moment, Divina lost herself in his charm. She allowed herself to bask in the memory of how good being in his presence had once been.

  Shaking her head to try to get the fog out, Divina scurried away from Rori. She folded her arms over her chest and looked anywhere but at him. “Did you just imply that I should be a prostitute?”

  Rori’s attention remained on the woman outside. He didn’t respond immediately, rather he seemed to study the hooker.

  “I’m starving,” he said. Rori walked past her, toward the door.

  “Wait!” Divina reached out to grab his arm.

  Once she had a hold of him, Rori inhaled audibly and deeply. He froze in place with eyes closed.

  Divina furrowed her brow at him. What was that about?

  “Rori?” she asked.

  “No,” he whispered. He moved his arm slightly, in a twitch motion. It felt like he wanted to flick Divina’s touch off him.

  Divina released him.

  “What just happened?” she asked.

  Rori straightened his vest and rolled his shoulders back. Finally, his eyes opened. He turned them on her.

  “I’m a very hungry vampire, and you are getting between me and my next meal. Do you wish to become it?” he said through gritted teeth.

  Divina gaped at him. Rori had never threatened her before. As stupid as it sounded, Rori was a predator, and to him Divina was just prey, though she had never feared him. He had never given her reason. Something was seriously wrong.

  Zapped with a thousand volts of electricity. When she grabbed his arm, he had to use all his restraint to not writhe on the floor in pain.

  Was it pain, though? Pain wasn’t the right word. No. He didn’t have the right word.

  Relief flowed through Rori when she released him, and it took him a moment to gather himself while the last of the prickles faded. Her touch had always aroused a tingle in him. Naturally, for she was the reason his heart beat again. However, Divina’s touch had never felt as intense as it did at that moment. He made a note to avoid it in the future.

  Exiting the wagon, he inhaled a lungful of the cool autumn air—something he needed after that surprise. He sensed her eyes boring into his back. He wouldn’t turn back, though. He needed to eat, and that hooker would be a nice combination of amenability and discretion. She would probably taste like an ashtray and who knew what sort of chemicals she had flowing through her system. All things Rori would gladly deal with over what was going on inside that wagon.

  It wasn’t until Rori had taken a few steps away from the vardo that he heard the click of the door closing. He breathed a sigh of relief. When she showed him the silver, he realized his Divina had learned a few things and wouldn’t be so easy get on board with his flimsy plan. He still hadn’t worked out exactly how he’d ask her for what he needed. How does one go about telling the woman he loves that she is meant for another? How does he introduce them and watch them fall in love?

  Rori shook his head. Not a thought for right now. He could think about that once he took the edge off. Another thing that irritated him at the moment; since when was Rori so edgy at night? He felt like a mere hundred-year-old, the way his hunger taunted him.

  Why was he so out of sorts? What did those witches do to him in that stupid convent, anyway? He shouldn’t feel the effects of Divina if she weren’t meant for him. That’s what they said. She wasn’t meant for him. Perhaps, if he repeated that statement often enough, he’d believe it.

  “Well, hello there,” he greeted the lot lizard with a sly smile.

  Time to switch focus, if for no other reason than so he could do just that: focus. Once he had some blood in his system, he’d have a clearer head.

  Chapter 9

  Groaning, Aric brought his hand to his temple in an attempt to stop the pounding. The bright sunlight seeping through the blinds caused him to squint. It wasn’t long before the gently whistled breathing of a female caught his attention. A look to his left revealed a blond, fast asleep, with her back to him.

  From what he could tell, she was, at the very least, topless. That realization brought awareness to his own state of undress.

  She stirred when Aric attempted to reach for his boxers. He froze. Thankfully, the woman just shifted her position and seemed to remain asleep.

  Who was this woman? How did she wind up in his bed? He looked around the room for clues
. His trailer was in its typical disheveled state. He wasn’t much for cleaning up.

  His eyes landed on the empty bottle of Jameson. Perhaps he had blacked out? When was the last time he blacked out? He peered at the woman again. Where did he meet her?

  Women typically didn’t appear from under his kitchen sink. The last thing he remembered was clearing a clog from his kitchen sink. He remembered spilling the cleaner and the smell of jasmine.

  Aric inhaled. Okay, he remembered smelling her. Or, did he? No. He had smelled her before. Why was everything so unclear? She smelled pretty good though. Pushing his sheets toward her, he exposed his bare body to the cool morning air. Careful not to shake the bed too much, he inched off it and grabbed his boxers.

  Once standing, he made a quick motion, pulling them up to cover himself. He didn’t want to wake the woman until he had a better sense of what had happened last night.

  Aric tiptoed away from the bed and closed the small curtain. It separated his bedroom area from the rest of his trailer. He attempted to make as little a sound as possible. The irony that he crept around his own home was not lost on him.

  He sighed in relief once there was a barrier between them. For some reason, he found that with her out of sight he would be able to concentrate better.

  Time for some context clues; Aric decided to take stock. His jeans were in a ball on the ground. He picked them up and inhaled. Cleaner soap. He unballed them, and the fuzzy memory of knocking over the container came back to him. He looked to the sink. Okay, so at least he had finished the repair.

  Strewn over his couch was a small, pink crop top. Aric held it up and sniffed it. He arched his brow. Along with the scent of the female, there was another. The additional scent was extremely faint. Any human nose would never have picked it up. It smelled of rotting meat. He threw it over his shoulder as his stomach churned. He wasn’t sure if it was the whiskey or the smell.