Blood of the White Witch (21 page)

“You’re very sweet,” I said with a soft
smile.

“I mean it, Portia. I know I’m driving you
crazy with my constant hovering over you, but you’re everything to
me,” he replied apologetically. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you,
but I need you to know how I feel when it comes to you. Nothing is
more important than your well-being.”

“I understand,” I said seriously, not
wanting to hurt his feelings by making light of his mood. “But I’m
not going anywhere.”

I gave him a long lingering kiss so he would
know I meant it. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me up
tighter against him, and I could feel his panic and unease at the
situation.

“I love you,” I said when we broke the kiss,
and he continued to stare longingly at me for a moment.

“I love you, too,” he replied. He
reluctantly released me and moved to get off the bed. “Do you think
you could eat something now?” he asked, and he walked over to the
writing desk and picked up a tray with cheese and crackers on
it.

“I can try,” I said. I sat up to fluff the
pillows behind my back, scooting up against them.

He placed the tray onto my lap, before
sitting on the edge of the bed next to me. He would break off
pieces of cheese and lay them on the crackers before handing them
to me.

I tried to keep the smile from spreading
across my face since I knew I could have done this tiny task by
myself, but he seemed desperate to help me somehow, so I didn’t say
anything.

“Where is everyone else?” I asked, changing
the subject away from myself, trying to direct his attention
elsewhere.

“They went back to Lankton’s,” he said, and
he reached over to the nightstand, picked up a glass of juice, and
handed it to me. “They said for you and me to take the evening off
tonight and just enjoy resting here together.”

“That was sweet,” I replied, swallowing a
small sip of the drink before biting into another cracker. “I know
Shelly was getting pretty worn out with all this, though. I feel
bad creating more work for everyone else.”

“I know,” he agreed while he watched me.
“But we really need to figure out what’s going on with this
Awakening thing.”

I agreed with a slight nod of my head while
he continued to feed me. I finally had to beg him to stop, telling
him I was too full to eat another bite.

He, however, complained that he thought I
hadn’t yet eaten enough. He relented, though, when I told him I was
going to get sick again if he kept force feeding me.

After that, he insisted upon drawing me a
bath to relax in, which I completely enjoyed since he lit a couple
candles as well as had soft music playing from a station on the
television. I quickly fell asleep once more in the soothing
environment.

When I finally managed to make my way out of
the bathroom, it was to find the bedroom transformed, lit by the
light of scented, glowing candles on almost every surface of the
room. The aroma was intoxicating.

My eyes drifted past the new covered food
tray on the end of the bed and over to my sleeping husband. He
looked a bit like a Greek god who had decided to grace the earth
with his very presence.

He had removed his shirt, which was lying
casually tossed on the floor next to his shoes and socks, and his
long jean-clad legs were stretched out, crossed loosely as the
ankles.

His hands rested behind his head, causing
his biceps to pop out, perfectly defined in the flickering light.
My eyes traveled slowly down his sculpted bronzed skin, and I
almost licked my lips in anticipation while I watched him. Had he
not been sleeping so soundly, I would have accused him of setting
up this scene with the express intent of seducing me.

The funny thing was I knew this wasn’t the
case since he had been desperately trying all day to make me rest.
Had he not been in the picture, this would have been the very scene
of extreme relaxation. Instead his presence had the exact opposite
effect on me, causing my pulse to jump to an ever-increasing
tempo.

I tightened the knot at the waist of my
robe, before quietly tiptoeing around to the foot of the bed to
pick up the food tray he had left there for me. I carefully moved
it to another surface without even bothering to check what was
making the delicious aromas that were coming from the steam hole on
the top of the plate cover.

Determined not to wake him, I turned from
the tray and made my way around to my side of the bed, sitting down
as softly as possible, before gently swinging my legs up onto the
bed as I lay back on the pillow.

I held my breath for a few seconds when I
felt him stir ever so slightly, but he didn’t wake up. After
several moments had passed I finally rolled over onto my side so I
could look at him.

I watched in awe while the candlelight
danced and flickered over his skin, wanting to reach out and touch
him so badly, but refraining from doing so because I knew he had
really been pushing himself lately.

His face was relaxed in sleep, and I loved
the way it looked, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, all
traces of the worry lines, scowls of deep concentration, and
tension wiped away from his features. It had been months since I
had truly seen him this relaxed. I had often wondered if he had
ever really rested while we were being held captive. He had always
been so concerned with everything and how he was going to protect
me in a hostile environment. It was a joy to my heart to see him
like this.

I lay perfectly still in that spot for a
very long time, just watching him, letting my eyes travel up and
down every inch of his perfect physique, wanting to capture every
part of him in my memory forever.

My eyes were starting to get a little heavy
themselves after a while, and I slowly turned to go put out the
candles before I fell asleep. I was just getting ready to use a
little magic to extinguish the tiny flames when I felt his arm
snake out and capture me around the waist, pulling me back up
against his chest. I let out a little squeal of surprise.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he said
in a sleepy voice.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” I
said, and a broad smile slipped over my face at being held like
this by him. “I was getting sleepy and thought I’d better blow the
candles out before we burned the place down around us. Thank you
for setting the room up so nicely for me, though. It was very
sweet.”

“I’m sorry I fell asleep before I could
enjoy it with you,” he replied, and he nuzzled his nose against my
ear before nibbling slightly there, causing a flash of goose bumps
to run over my entire body.

“Don’t feel bad,” I responded to him.
“You’ve needed some good rest, probably more than I have. I was
happy to see you so relaxed.”

“Did you eat your dinner?” he asked me,
brushing my damp hair back from my neck so he could reach it
better, kissing his way from my ear to my throat.

“No,” I replied honestly, and the shivers he
was causing danced over my skin, to which I was rewarded with an
exasperated sigh.

“Portia, you need to eat so you can keep
your strength up,” he said, and he paused in his tender assault of
me.

“I was devouring something with my eyes
instead,” I replied jokingly back at him.

His eyes registered a moment of confusion
before the light of understanding flashed into them.

“You were, were you?” he said, and a
seductive grin spread over his face. “Did you like what you
saw?”

“It was the best visual buffet I could ever
imagine,” I replied, and I flashed a grin over my shoulder back up
at him. “I was practically salivating.”

“Really?” he said with a quirk of his
eyebrow, and he turned his head, his gaze traveling slowly down the
length of my body and back up again. I could feel the heat of it as
if he were touching me with an actual flame. “Because it couldn’t
have been better than the visual display I see laid out before me.
Only I think looking isn’t going to be enough. I’m going to need a
taste.”

“Only one taste?” I asked, flirting back
brazenly with him, and I could feel my skin flush with
excitement.

He rolled me onto my back, observing my
blushing reaction, and I heard a low chuckle emanate from his
throat.

“Girl, you have no idea what you’re doing to
me, but, yes, baby, I promise it’ll be more than one taste,” he
replied, and his eyes burned a look that was unmistakable into my
own.

“Mmm, it sounds … delicious,” I murmured
back to him, my breaths becoming more rapid as I fell under his
seductive powers.

“Oh, it will be,” he promised before his
lips descended to claim mine, and I was not the least bit
disappointed.

We ended up going to all the little
bookstores Vance had found over the next four days, spending many
hours searching, yet finding nothing.

Vance insisted on everyone taking regularly
scheduled breaks to stretch and keep our strength up with some sort
of refreshment, not taking any chances with anyone’s health or
well-being, especially mine.

We had finally come to the fifth store on
the list, and we were all sitting in a small, stuffy, windowless
attic space covered in dust. It appeared these books hadn’t been
touched in a long while.

The shopkeeper at this location hadn’t been
too keen on letting us look at his collection but had finally been
persuaded to let us have a go at it after Vance promised him we
would definitely be purchasing from him.

We had been here for several hours, sifting
through the musty smelling items, when Grandma finally spoke
up.

“I think I may have found something,” she
said passing a very old, large book over to my dad.

Dad looked carefully at the brittle worn
pages.

“Yes. This is definitely something about the
white witches,” Dad agreed, his eyes intently searching over the
yellowed page while he ran his index finger carefully over the
writings.

Vance stood up then, brushing himself off
slightly, and came to look over his shoulder for a moment.

“I’ll go down and see if we can’t persuade
the shop owner to let us borrow or purchase it,” he said after a
few seconds of perusing the book in interest.

He made his way out of the narrow doorway to
head back down to the lower floor of the store. He had only been
gone for a few moments when he hurried back up the stairs in a
hushed manner, holding his fingers to his lips.

“Quick! Everyone drop what you’re doing. Go
down the stairs and out the back as fast as you can,” he said,
waving his arm to hurry everyone along, not offering any other
explanation.

To his credit, not one soul questioned him.
Dad closed the book, tucking it under his arm, and we hurriedly
made our way down the staircase toward the outside. When we were
out the door, I turned to Vance who was dragging me down the narrow
alleyway, breaking into a run.

“What is it?” I asked breathlessly, the
others running along side us, quickly trying to put distance
between ourselves and the shop.

“Brian Fitzgerald was in the building,” he
huffed as we rounded a corner, out of the line of sight from the
building.

“Brian was there?” I asked breathlessly.
“What could he have possibly been doing there?”

“He was asking about that book,” Vance said
pointing to the one my dad was carrying under his arm still.

“But why would he want that book?” I asked
while we made our way around to where we had parked the
vehicles.

“I didn’t stick around to find out,” he
replied. “He didn’t see me, and I knew I needed to get everyone out
of there before we were discovered. The others could have been with
him for all I know.”

He held the door to the car open for me,
ushered me inside, and climbed in beside me. We were soon on our
way down the road.

As our group was in two separate vehicles,
we decided to split up and take alternate routes, weaving through
town in random directions just in case someone was trying to follow
us.

We didn’t see anyone making any obvious
attempts to mark our movements, so after about thirty minutes of
driving we finally turned back toward the direction of the
hotel.

We arrived without any further incident, and
we all met together in the safety of our apartment. Dad placed the
book on the dining room table while everyone gathered around to
read over his shoulders.

“The Society of the White Witch,” Dad began
reading aloud to the rest of us. “The first coven of this society
was made up entirely of female witches, with no male warlock
members admitted.

“These witches were concerned about the
rising discord in the public eye where witchcraft was concerned.
They set out on a quest to perfect their magic and use it only for
the good of themselves and for the benefit of others they might
meet. They were hoping to dispel the unrest that was beginning to
stir through the masses, showing that witchcraft was not something
to be feared but something to help all.

“These witches began purifying their magic
and rituals to the point that they began to accomplish many great
feats that had never been heard of before. Much of this magic
revolved around the healing of others.

“The white witches claimed that their powers
had improved so much because of their belief in God as a higher
power than themselves. They maintained that all their gifts were
from him and gave him all the credit for the work they had
done.

“This caused much speculation in the magical
community as most witches and warlocks believed only in the worship
of Pagan deities, not one almighty God, though most of the Pagan
covens were content to peacefully let them worship as they
wished.

“However, it is said that several covens
which dealt more in the dark art of things came up against these
white witches in order to destroy them and prevent them from
turning other witches toward their teachings.