Spellbound Page 16

  Hazel seemed not to like that part of the plan, but she turned toward Sarah. “Are you okay with all this, Sarah?”

  Sarah jumped at her name. She wrung her hands together as she grappled with whether or not she should share her troublesome feelings. “This talk of encountering demons face-to-face doth cause me to quake inside. My heart be in the mission, but I fear letting you all down if I haven’t the strength to fight such forces.”

  Hazel took one of her hands. “Morgan, Raven, and I would never put you in harm’s way if we didn’t believe in you and your powers.”

  “Hazel’s right,” Raven said. “Look at what you accomplished at the arena. You and Hazel rounded up those demons chasing us without missing a beat. I would’ve been killed if you weren’t there.”

  “Aye, but I knew not what I were up against. I had not proper time to think. ’Twas instinct that impelled me to act.”

  She bowed her head but heard Morgan mutter to Raven, “You better do something about this.”

  “Miss Sarah,” Ayotunde said. “You be de strongest woman I know. You help the frightened, pained young women deliver their babies and don’t let them quit till the job be done. Those demons will pale against you.”

  Sarah beamed at Ayotunde, who was smiling back at her with complete adoration. After a minute, she tore her eyes off Ayotunde and noticed the three awkward expressions on the faces of their onlookers.

  “We good?” Morgan glanced impatiently between Sarah and Ayotunde.

  “Aye. We good,” Ayotunde said, squeezing Sarah’s hand.

  “Fantabulous,” Morgan said in an impatient drawl. “Why don’t we all retreat to our rooms for a bit to settle down and gather our wits, and then we can head out to dinner.”

  “Good idea,” Hazel said. “God knows I could use it.”

  Sarah nodded, resolving to choose bravery over fear. She might have unwittingly unleashed this evil into the world, but no matter how daunting the task before her was, she would dedicate whatever abilities or charms she’d possessed to help Morgan, Raven, and Hazel rid the world of it, no matter what it cost her.

  In the meantime, she and Ayotunde rushed to their room, Sarah eager to spend any and every moment alone with Ayotunde that the Fates would allow. As soon as she closed the door, Ayotunde surprised her by lunging toward her and kissing her passionately.

  “The more I have of you, the more I want,” Ayotunde said. “Your lips be the sweetest nectar, the softest of petals.”

  “You mustn’t, Ayotunde.” Sarah half-heartedly tried to push her back. “Not now. You stir me so greatly that I cannot think when you be so close. I cannot control my desires against your touch.”

  “Aye,” she whispered seductively. “My senses be lost when you be near.”

  “We must keep our wits about us,” Sarah said. “The others count on us. Although, these strange urges you rouse in me do keep me in your grip.”

  Ayotunde wrapped her arms around Sarah’s neck. “No witch in the world could conjure a spell more powerful than the love I feel for you, Sarah.”

  Sarah swept her up in her arms, and they tantalized each other with deep kisses before falling onto the bed.

  * * *

  When Hazel and Raven went to their room, Raven collapsed on the bed, trying to conserve what energy she had in the face of her still-healing physical injuries. Her eyes were closed, but she sensed Hazel was agitated about something. Dared she ask? She exhaled deeply and opted to let it go.

  “I don’t like the idea of being separated from you,” Hazel finally said.

  Raven opened one eye. “Splitting up makes the most sense. The three of you are powerful together, and I can’t leave Morgan without protection.”

  “I can’t help but feel like it’s just another way for Morgan to control you. I know I probably sound ridiculous, but I worry.”

  Raven struggled into an upright position. “Hazel, it has to be that way. In the likely event that Blaise tries to thwart us with another hellhound or demon attack, Morgan and I are the best team to fend them off. I have the actual weapons to kill them; you guys don’t.”

  “Sarah and I did just fine against the demons at the arena; we can hold our own.”

  “I know,” Raven said. “You guys were awesome at rendering and subduing them. But you can’t kill them. Even if you could conjure up the skills, you don’t have the weaponry to destroy them. Remember, they’re not human.”

  Hazel’s shoulders stooped in apparent disappointment. “I know I’m no expert, but to me it makes more sense to split the hellhound and demon killers with the ones who can subdue them. It just seems like a more effective method of attack.”

  Raven couldn’t contain her amusement, and it escaped in a snort. “Would you like to tell Morgan your plan is better than hers?”

  Hazel frowned. “No.”

  “I love your commitment, but your powers will serve best working in conjunction with Sarah and Ayotunde, doing whatever compelling and manipulating is necessary to get into the studio. You have to get close enough to Lucien and the other two. Once they realize Sarah and Ayotunde are on to them, they’ll have no choice but to eliminate them if they want any chance of doing Blaise’s bidding and winning a place in his immortal coven of evil. You and your aunt and Ayotunde are no match for Blaise. Only Morgan is.”

  “I don’t like it, Raven. I don’t like the way she flippantly uses you. It’s like you’re nothing but a toy to her, an action figure with moveable parts she can drop into any scenario she fancies, no matter how dangerous. She acts like she’s in love with you, but forcing you into potentially lethal situations sure is a bizarre way of showing it.”

  Raven got up and met Hazel on her return from the other side of the room. “Hazel, I know it may look that way, but it really isn’t. It’s just like you said to Sarah—Morgan would never put me in a situation she knew I couldn’t handle. I’m a shadowhunter. It’s who I’ve always been.”

  “It’s not who you’ve always been. It’s what you’ve always done. You never had a chance to determine who you are. It was determined for you. Your uncle shouldn’t have put you in this position. This lonely life of servitude to Morgan le Fay is no way to live.”

  Raven’s empathy and patience faded. “My uncle is the most honest, honorable man you’ll ever meet. He took his calling seriously, and so do I, even though it’s totally fucked up my personal life. He’s been my protector and my mentor ever since my parents died. I have nothing but gratitude toward him, and I won’t have you blaming him.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “If you’re jealous of Morgan, just own it. Don’t drag a man who’s—”

  Hazel lurched toward Raven and kissed her with such force, Raven couldn’t have escaped if she’d wanted to.

  She gripped Hazel’s ass and pulled her tightly against her, feeling her firm breasts mash against her own. She plunged her tongue into Hazel’s mouth, savoring the sweetness and warmth as desire consumed her entire body.

  Hazel groaned. “You don’t know what you do to me.” She bit at Raven’s earlobe, sending shivers cascading down her back.

  Raven didn’t answer with words. She clutched handfuls of Hazel’s hair as she flicked her tongue around in her mouth and shoved Hazel’s thigh between her legs. “You should stay away from me,” she whispered in Hazel’s ear as she felt her body surrender.

  “I can’t,” Hazel said, raking her teeth down the column of Raven’s neck and sucking on her pulse point. “I know what you told me, but I can’t pretend you don’t drive me out of my mind.”

  “I can’t give you what you want,” Raven said.

  “You don’t know what I want,” Hazel said breathlessly.

  Raven began pushing her toward the bed. “Then tell me.”

  Hazel dug her nails into Raven’s back. “I want you so fucking bad.”

  “This is a mistake,” Raven said as she cupped Hazel’s breasts.

  “I hate Morgan. She has the worst timi
ng,” Hazel said as she pushed Raven down and crawled on top of her.

  As Raven began unbuttoning Hazel’s shirt, a knock on the door startled her.

  “Come on, ladies,” Morgan said from the other side. “Let’s go get some dinner and cocktails and strategize.”

  She nudged Hazel off her and sprang up to the edge of the bed. “Fuck,” she said, resting her head in her hands.

  “I’m sorry,” Hazel said and leapt up at the other side. “I don’t know what came over me. I…I never do things like this. Honestly.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Raven shook it off and gathered her usual arsenal of weapons. “Sometimes these types of missions can get really intense. It’s easy to lose your grip and deal with the insanity in ways you’d never have guessed.”

  At first, Hazel looked wounded. “Yeah, yeah. I mean, that makes perfect sense. I’m sorry I got so ah about it.” She made a gesture as if her head was exploding and then laughed awkwardly. She straightened her shirt before grabbing the doorknob. “Can we just forget this even…”

  “Yeah, absolutely,” Raven said, feeling awkward for her. She avoided eye contact until Hazel left the room.

  Like there’s any way either one of us will forget that . “Fuck,” Raven spat as she looked toward the ceiling. “This is just what I need right now.”

  * * *

  Hazel tried to calm her body and her mind. The rapid transitions of emotions and the intensity they’d just exchanged had her feeling out of sorts. The crackling in her fingertips was starting to become a good indicator of her being off-kilter. Raven had been bold and powerful. Hazel found that side of her invigorating, and she wanted more. She wanted as much as Raven was willing to give. She felt greedy for Raven and ravenous for her attention. But right now, she needed to push those feelings to the side. She knew they would remain close to the surface, bubbling with excitement, and longing for the next touch. But she could and would keep them at bay.

  Raven had suggested they have their strategizing session over dinner at the restaurant inside the hotel, explaining that it wasn’t prudent for the five of them to go roaming downtown Roanoke at night. Their collective energy would be so intense that Blaise and his minions could detect their presence and thwart their plans before they’d had a chance to set them in motion.

  Hazel was especially amenable to the suggestion given that Raven still hadn’t seemed herself. The gashes in her skin were nearly healed, but she moved slowly and deliberately as though still nursing some residual inner discomfort. The last thing she needed was to have to fend off a surprise attack from demons masquerading as radical right-wingers after sniffing her out as they trekked through the city in search of trendy wine bars.

  They’d knocked back their first round of drinks in record time and in uncharacteristic silence. With everyone seeming a little more relaxed as they started on their second, Hazel shared the results of her search.

  With her phone in one hand, she picked up her fresh cosmo and sipped as she read. “The doors open at five thirty p.m. tomorrow night and close promptly at six thirty. They begin the live podcast at seven. Should we get there when the doors open or right before they close?”

  Raven plucked a garlic knot from the basket and tore it apart. “Right before it closes. Security’s going to be tight, and we don’t need a crowd of witnesses itching for a riot when Ayotunde puts the whammy on the guards.”

  “Good thinking.” Hazel smiled, trying not to show Raven her emotions were still scattered from their earlier miscalculated encounter.

  Ayotunde brought her glass of wine to her lips, then paused. “Pray, Miss Raven, what be a whammy you say I’m to put?”

  “Your voodoo,” Morgan said. “What a shame there isn’t time to find out the identities of the security guards so you can slap together some dolls and get the operation underway ahead of time.”

  Raven looked puzzled. “I’m sitting here with two witches, their queen, and a voodoo priestess, and you guys can’t pull that off before tomorrow night?”

  Morgan scoffed. “You shadowhunters really gall me. You think we just snap our fingers, and bam, the whole universe bends to our will?”

  Hazel gripped the table when it started shaking as Morgan grew more annoyed. Sarah stabilized her water glass while Ayotunde’s quick hand saved the basket of garlic knots from falling off the table.

  “If it’s so easy,” Morgan said, pointing at Raven’s phone, “why don’t you find out who they are on your little handheld box of man-made magic and then drop some laxatives in their iced lattes tomorrow afternoon?” She shook her head. “Do you want it done fast, or do you want it done right?”

  Raven shrank like a wool sweater left in the dryer too long. “It was rhetorical, Morgan. I guess I should’ve been clearer about that.”

  “Okay, so once we’re inside, what are the three of us supposed to do?” Hazel said.

  Morgan seductively sucked an oyster out of its shell, leaving them in suspense as she chewed. Hazel wondered if they all found that as hot as she did. She looked away as she sipped her drink.

  “You’re going to introduce Samuel Cranwell to the new and improved twenty-first-century Sarah Hutchinson,” Morgan said. “That ought to shut his cult-babbling piehole for a few minutes once he realizes she’s not the obedient little wife of Thomas Cooper he remembers.”

  “So, what you’re saying is the three of us will have to come face-to-face with the three of them.” Hazel forced the bite of bread down her dry throat. “Where will you two be during this?”

  “Morgan and I will be somewhere in the building fending off Blaise and whatever else he summons against me. Given that he failed at his last attempt to vaporize me, I’m sure he’ll come at me with both barrels if given another chance.”

  “That’s why she needs me by her side this time,” Morgan said and winked at Raven.

  Hazel bounced her knees again, agitated as much by Morgan’s transparent effort to mark her territory as she was by the unfolding details of the plan. “What do we say when we meet them?”

  “Tell Lucien that Sarah and Ayotunde are going to go back to 1692 Salem and kill him and his spawn before he has a chance to follow them through the portal,” Raven said. “The objective is to get them to follow us back to the hallowed grounds of Salem, Mass.” She turned to Sarah. “That’s the portal you came through. You have to go back the same way.”

  Sarah and Ayotunde exchanged worried glances.

  “You mean Sarah and Ayotunde actually have to go back?” The thought made Hazel feel queasy. She’d grown attached to her aunt in this short span of time. She wanted them both to stay.

  “Of course,” Raven said. “They’ll reopen the portal, and you, Morgan, and I will shove all of them through it so they can face their original fates. Hopefully, order and balance in the white witch realm will be restored immediately.”

  “Sarah and Ayotunde can come back though, right?”

  “Wrong,” said Morgan. “Sarah’s destiny never included coming into the twenty-first century in the first place. She had no more right to slip through that portal than those three miscreants. It was a mistake, an unfortunate result of two women playing around with powers they knew nothing about.”

  “I wanted only to save my Sarah’s life, Madame le Fay,” Ayotunde said. “I meant no harm with my conjurin’. Pray, I beg of you. Take my soul and let Miss Sarah stay here safe from de gallows.”

  Hazel’s eyes blurred with tears. There would be no way to know the fate of her aunt and Ayotunde once they went through the portal. The realization felt like a vise around her heart and throat.

  “I have no use for your soul, Ayotunde,” Morgan said. “My one and only purpose is to correct the grievous anachronism that’s thrown our realm into chaos and threatens the very existence of the white witch.” She directed her fiery eyes at Hazel. “I don’t think you have any inkling as to what this means for humanity if we don’t win.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Ra
ven said. “Clear heads. We need clear heads if we’re going to be successful accomplishing even the first part of this mission; getting access to Lucien McCoulter is priority number one.”

  “Right,” Morgan said. “Once Cranwell realizes Sarah’s going back to rid the world of them before they stumbled through to this time, it’ll be a cinch to get them to follow her back to Salem.”

  “How will they follow if they know they are to return to the past?” Sarah said.

  “They’re not going to follow you to Salem to be sent back,” Morgan said. “They’re going to follow you to kill you.” She raised her glass and smiled happily. “Now, let’s enjoy the rest of our meal, perhaps a few more cocktails, and then go up to our suite and get a good night’s sleep.”

  Hazel offered Raven a half-hearted smile of reassurance, but it was Sarah who had all of her attention at the moment. Although Sarah said nothing more, Hazel saw the distress in her eyes, uncertain if she’d been shaken more by the part about being killed or being sent back. Although she hadn’t had time to adjust to life in this century, she clearly found it preferable to the life from which she and Ayotunde had both escaped. Hazel was beginning to know too well the profound ache of falling in love with someone she couldn’t have. Sarah and Ayotunde were experiencing freedom unlike any Puritan had ever known. She couldn’t imagine the agony they’d have to live with going back to such oppression and despair.

  That was if they would even survive until the trials ended.

  Chapter Eighteen

  In the green room outside the radio broadcast studio in downtown Roanoke, Lucien stared out the window at the distant glow emanating from the colossal Mill Mountain Star across town. This live podcast with Tammi Lee Sanderson was to be the culmination of all their painstaking planning to amass and install nationalist cells in major cities all across America. To his surprise, it hadn’t been that difficult to accomplish. There was no shortage of angry, disillusioned, working-class people sick of liberal politicians insidiously infusing their socialist agenda into their government. The long-standing lax immigration policies, endless stream of welfare for the lazy, and regulations against American businesses had been a detriment to the economy and burdened hardworking Americans. Not to mention the flagrant ways these politicians catered to the gays.