Temple of Indra's Witch Page 3

  Chapter Six

  Wolf in Sheep’s Cloaking

  Hunedoara, Romania, 1494

  Alexandra watched from her hiding place at the edge of the castle wall as her son, Costin, led the little trollop away. Alexandra silently followed him yesterday to learn just what the fool was up to now.

  Just as expected, he’d brought the girl—the wolf’s daughter—through the tunnel to his hiding place. He thought that his mother didn’t know of the secret tower room, as if she was some idiot. She almost laughed out loud. She’d used the room herself for the very same reason once upon a time. Oh, the ignorant bliss of youth.

  It wasn’t until she saw the girl curled up in his arms that she knew things had grown far too serious between them. She had tried for years to nip this situation in the bud, but he wouldn’t listen, and now things were out of control. If the girl got with child, Costin would be cornered. The thought made her angry and for a moment she could almost forgive her own mother for what she’d done to the raven-haired boy—almost. Alexandra could never be as cruel as her own mother. Or could she?

  She shook the memory away.

  What good would it do her to be free of that witch Elena, if Costin was saddled with the reddish wolf’s daughter? Why couldn’t that boy just listen?

  She remained in her hiding spot watching for a few minutes longer and then the solution came to her as they kissed. She would get rid of the daughter, too.

  Chapter Seven

  Condescending Teenragers

  Dublin, Ireland, 2031

  The warmth of my bed was seductive, but it was time to get up and entertain a house full of teenagers. I threw off the sheets, planted a kiss on Cullen’s sleeping cheek and headed into the ensuite.

  After showering and twisting my long dark hair up into a top knot, I swiped a bit of lip gloss onto my lips, and threw on a white jumpsuit. Studying myself in the cheval mirror, I decided I could no longer pass for sixteen but I could pass for thirty which of course was younger than my real age. I made sure to pop a couple of Advil and headed down the stairs.

  The tantalizing smell of bacon blanketed the kitchen. I grabbed one of the pieces from the pan, crunching it between my teeth. The griddle was out and on the counter but it was still clean. Cullen must have started breakfast and then changed his mind. I pulled the pantry open and assembled the flour, cocoa powder, sugar, cookies, salt and baking soda for the double-stuffed Oreo pancakes—Alana’s favorite. I was just about to measure the ingredients into the giant mixing bowl, when I noticed the freshly brewed, dark-roast coffee.

  The first sip almost chased the pain in my temples away, and then Alana walked into the kitchen with a hips-first, runway-model stride. Her kinky, reddish-blonde hair was pulled back by my peach and yellow floral bandana and her half-woman-half-child body was clad in an almost sheer sundress. She was backed by Hannah Walsh, a petite girl with a pixie cut.

  Alana’s blue-green eyes were abnormally shiny, and fixated on me.

  “Hello, earth to ma,” she said in a high-pitched, almost baby-doll voice.

  I looked around, but I could feel myself moving as though in slow motion, or underwater. A tingle of awareness yanked my attention back from my thoughts.

  “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m just so tired lately. I was thinking how grown up you look.” Nostalgia took me over as I pulled her in for a hug. “I can still remember your seventh birthday…”

  “Ugh, mum, enough with the tenderness and the teary memories.”

  “Oh, okay. Yeah … sorry. What time will your friends be here?” I took down the jar of colored drink umbrellas and shook it at her. “I’ll make slushies and Da can fire up the grill.”

  She gave me a weary look and my eyes dropped to the floor. It was pathetic, but at times Alana made me feel like the needy child in the relationship.

  “Let’s put the umbrellas back in the press,” she said, taking the jar from my hands as if she’d grown up overnight. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to rip her limb from limb or hug her tight to me again. I could hear my Gigi’s voice ringing in my head: She’s testing her boundaries.

  “I thought slushies would be fun. It’s for your birthday, honey,” I said, trying to keep the hurt from my voice.

  “My birthday was yesterday and we already had a hooley. I just want a day to be with my friends.”

  “Right, well I’ll call off the clowns and balloon maker then.”

  Neither girl laughed. Tough crowd.

  I glanced out the window and saw Cullen sitting at the patio table. He would have laughed.

  I cleared my throat. “I was just about to make your favorite birthday breakfast.”

  “No thanks. Hannah’s on a paleo diet this week plus we’ve got some decent sunshine for once so we’d rather look hot.”

  “Well you need to eat something.”

  “Da made bacon and we had some fruit. Oh, but Hannah brought you your favorite Cinnamon Crème Raspberry tart.”

  How thoughtful of you to bring me some of the carbs you’re not eating. “Thank you, Hannah.” I said, pulling the devilish little tart from the box. “They look delicious, but, seriously, you girls need to stop bringing these treats. My jeans are getting tight and I think I may be developing an addiction.”

  “When’s Móraí coming?”

  “Around noon,” I answered, taking a nice size piece out of the pastry. The tang of the raspberries thrilled my taste buds.

  “I wonder what Móraí got me this year,” Alana said, turning to her girlfriend. “She always gets the best gifts.”

  “Another trip…to Paris maybe…or a car?” her friend said, clapping her hands together enthusiastically.

  It had better not be either, I thought, biting into the remainder of the tart to silence my tongue.

  “If you girls don’t need anything, I’m going to go read outside for an hour.”

  Neither of them looked at me.

  “Great! Then Da and I will fade into the background. Let us know if you want some burgers or something.”

  Alana grunted, which I took as my cue to leave. I headed to the garden patio through the French doors. Cullen had disappeared but Daphne was curled up on one of two loungers about ten feet from the patio table, licking her paws. I hurried over to her, giving her a friendly scratch, then I set my book, Evil: Nature or Nurture, on the table next to her and fanned out a blanket before sitting down. The sunshine felt warm on my skin and before I knew it I’d almost dozed off.

  Something was crawling on my arm. I looked up, startled.

  “Howya gorgeous, is this spot taken?” Cullen towered above me in jeans and a t-shirt. I felt a familiar fluttering.

  “I suppose you can sit here, but only until my husband arrives. He’s the jealous sort.”

  Cullen laughed, and then bent over to kiss me.

  “Jaysus, the sun is splittin’ the stones today.” He stole his chair back from the cat and stretched out. Daphne made a noise, clearly not pleased to be ousted from her spot. She strolled around to my side and I absently rubbed her head before she took off after a bird.

  He raised one eyebrow. “What’s with the book?”

  Instinctively, I flipped it over. “It was shipped to the store by mistake,” I said as nonchalantly as possible, adjusting my sunglasses to hide my eyes.

  He sat up, setting my teeth on edge. Damn—why had I brought that book out here! Cullen was a human lie detector.

  I jumped up and strode to the rose bushes, quickly picking up the gardening sheers that were stuck in the ground and bumped into him when I straightened.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

  “Why are ye runnin’ away, love?”

  “I’m not,” I answered. “I’m gardening. I just noticed that the roses need a trim, so please move out of my way.”

  He leaned into me and gave me a kiss on the neck. His fingers teased the strap of my top.

  “You are insatiable,” I whispered.

  “Do ye know what I think?” He pulled
back; fiery green eyes surveyed me pointedly.

  “Yeah, I think I do,” I said, biting my lip.

  He grinned. “I think somethin’s weighin’ on ye.”

  “What? No,” I said, attempting to break free. He caught my chin. I went still and he studied me. I could see my own guilty look in the reflection of his sunglasses.

  “I know when ye’re lyin’, Aeval,” he teased. “If ye’ll not tell me, well then I’ll torture it from ye.”

  His mouth ground down on mine, his tongue parted my lips and filled me. I felt a shot of fire streak directly between my legs.

  I pulled away. “Cullen, the girls are in the house. They can probably see us.”

  “Start talkin’ then.”

  A twinge of guilt twisted inside me. Fine.

  “Eww!” A voice screeched through the open window.

  We jerked apart like two teenagers caught necking behind the jungle gym, surprised and shocked into silence by the sound of Alana’s voice.

  Chapter Eight

  Mother’s Know Best

  Hunedoara, Romania, 1494

  Sofia’s mother, Elena Maria Catargiu-Obrenović appeared from behind a tree moments after Costin disappeared back to the castle’s gate. Her furious gaze could have wilted the nearby flowers. It was clear that she’d not only noticed her daughter’s absence but she’d seen the lovebirds kiss goodbye.

  “I missed you last night, daughter? Is this to be the usual now, sneaking away to be someone’s mistress?”

  “That’s a fine thing for you to say.” Sofia regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, but there was nothing she could do to recall them.

  “That’s fair, albeit cruel for you to point out. Why do you think I worry? Do you think I want this life for you?”

  Sofia was so ashamed she could scarcely breathe, and she bit her lip.

  “Mother, I know. I’m sorry for my carelessness.”

  “So, you love him?”

  “More than anything.”

  “And you are going to run away with him?”

  As far as Sofia knew her mother’s magical powers didn’t include mind reading, but somehow she knew Sofia’s guilty secret.

  “Yes, I mean, I’m considering it. What choice do I have?”

  Elena said nothing.

  “You are displeased with me.”

  “‘Tis not the future I hoped for you, but what can I do to change your mind?”

  “There is nothing that could dissuade me.”

  Elena surprised Sofia by nodding her head. “I know that and have known for quite some time, but I can’t deny that I am fearful for you.”

  They continued through the trees, but as they got close to their cozy little cottage in the woods, Sofia noticed her mother trailed behind her, silently mouthing words while she walked. Sofia looked back once more and saw that the vines were intertwining behind them.

  “Mother, what are you up to?”

  “Oh Sofia, don’t begrudge me my fun. What good are spells if I never use them?”

  But Elena wore no smile.

  “You’re afraid someone will try to find us.” Sofia stopped and allowed her mother to lead. “Do you think Costin’s mother saw us as well?”

  Elena turned to her daughter and paused, her face looking suddenly older.

  “The truth is that I don’t know for sure, but something is amiss.”

  Sofia knew that her mother had a sixth sense—she quite literally smelled smoke whenever there was danger. Was that the reason she’d come looking for Sofia?

  “I just think we need to be a little more cautious these days. We’ve made powerful enemies.” Elena shuddered. “Some of whom would give almost anything to see us banished…or worse.” Elena’s voice trembled. She bit her lip and looked away. “I haven’t always made the wisest decisions, Sofia, but perhaps it’s time I think with my head instead of my heart.”

  “You’re talking about your relationship with Vilhem…”

  Elena shook her head impatiently. “Not just that, although I do plan to ask him to keep away.”

  “But why? You love each other.”

  Elena sighed. “I honestly don’t know how I feel anymore, Sofia. I don’t know if it was ever love or simply infatuation. I was dragged here to this town, into a situation beyond my control and I allowed my moral compass to be overrun by fanciful emotions for someone else’s husband—only something a corrupt and naive young woman would do—and now I am paying the price.”

  “Oh, Mother, you were with child and your husband was dead. Vilhem promised to protect you. It’s understandable…”

  “No it’s not. I should have gone home to the high priestess even if I was ashamed.”

  “Why were you ashamed? It’s not your fault my father died before I was born. ”

  “Please, Sofia, can we talk about this later? My point is only that you mean the world to me, and I would do anything in my power to keep you safe”

  “There’s something you’re not telling me.” Sofia stomped her foot like a child. “Why were you ashamed? And tell me what it is that you know that has you so frightened.”

  Elena gave her daughter a long, considering look. “I don’t know anything for sure,” she said at last, “but I have a bad feeling. Costin’s mother, that beast of a woman, is dangerous. You’ve already a target painted on your back because of me and now, should you run away with him….well let’s just say she’ll never abide.”

  “Costin is a good man. He’ll protect me.”

  “I know of Costin’s good character, daughter. He will surely do his best, but not all things are in his control. Come then, let us go home and I will help you formulate a plan.”

  Chapter Nine

  Once Upon a Lie

  Dublin, Ireland, 2031

  Searing pain ran through my head. Opening the drawer of my nightstand, I stuck my hand in and fumbled inside.

  Gasping, I leaned against the side of the bed, my head splitting from the axe clearing a path inside.

  “Oooh,” I moaned as the pain subsided enough that I could open the pill bottle.

  Not another migraine. I was beginning to feel insane. I reached for my water and swallowed the blue square pill.

  Get it together, Sophia. I closed my eyes for a second, beads of perspiration collecting on my upper lip. I didn’t have time to lie down; Alana’s friends were downstairs and there were more on the way. I would just have to suffer through it until tonight. As I swiped at the sweat, I glanced around the room.

  “Daphne?” I said and heard no response. Odd. The cat had just been on the bed a minute ago and she usually didn’t move from her spot unless someone else was upstairs and she went to investigate.

  Oh, well, maybe she’d wandered back downstairs to the party.

  Bang!

  The sound of a door slamming came from down the hall.

  Was Cullen up here? He was supposed to be keeping an eye on the teenagers. I stomped out of our room, expecting to walk into him, but the hall loomed empty. Alana’s door was closed now, though, and it had been open. What was she doing up here?

  I knocked softly with one hand and turned the knob with the other, opening the door in one fluid motion.

  The room lay empty.

  My flesh prickled.

  “Alana?” I called as I stepped inside, the edges of the room blurring around me as another wave of the migraine hit.

  There was something about the room, a stillness that bothered me.

  Another door slammed, this time behind me.

  Startled, I whirled.

  What in the hell was going on up here?

  Heart in my throat, I stepped back into the hall and realized there was a draft. Idiot! The open windows were creating an air lock of sorts, causing the doors to slam.

  I stepped back inside Alana’s room and headed for the window when another jab of pain sent me over the edge. I dropped to the floor.

  “Sweet Jesus,” I whispered. When would the pills kick in? Sl
owly, I pulled myself to my feet and contemplated resting on Alana’s bed until the flashing lights and pain subsided.

  Then something caught my eye.

  My heart clutched.

  What was that on the bed?

  It didn’t surprise me that she’d taken the book. Well, that was a lie. Part of me was surprised but that was just my naivety. With the way she’d been acting lately, I’d been expecting this… well, something anyway.

  I’d never seen this page before. There was a grotesque image of a woman being burned at the stake.

  When I looked at the list of ingredients, I couldn’t help but cringe. It was basically a beauty spell but it was definitely not the type of spell Rochus would have condoned.

  I slammed the book shut and marched down the hall to confront Alana. Laughter erupted from the study.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  Alana and two of her friends were huddled in the corner of the study with their backs to me. They giggled and I could have sworn I saw Cullen’s flask being dropped into Hannah’s purse.

  “Mum?” Alana turned to face me. “What’s up with yer tone?” She stared at me with a slightly buzzed look in her eye.

  “You don’t like my tone?” I placed my hands on my hips and glared back at her. “You’re stealing things and getting drunk and my tone offends you?”

  “What are ye talkin’ about? Are you spying on me?” Alana challenged. “I’m sixteen now. Ye can stop treatin’ me like an infant.”

  “Stop evading my question. What are you doing in here?”

  “Having a private conversation,” Alana shot back. “One that ye weren’t privy to.”

  “When did you turn into this little monster?” I sniffed. “I raised you to be respectful and honest.”

  “I honestly don’t want to have this conversation right now,” she grumbled.

  I really had to give her credit; she wouldn’t ever admit defeat, even when directly caught doing something wrong.