Courting the Darkness (6 page)

Mica looked up in the air, not wanting to answer. “We’re going to take a longer route back. We’re going to try to shake Hargrove off of our tail.” He grinned in anticipation. “Maybe even trap him.”

Entering the dim, smoky establishment, he pointed to a booth in the corner. They sat down across from each other. A tired-looking waitress followed them to their table, placing the greasy menus down in front of them. “Hi, I’m Sissy.” She sighed tiredly. “Can I get you guys something to drink?”

Desiree looked down at herself.
She thinks I’m a guy?

Caleb laughed at her personal assessment, holding up his hand to Sissy. “I’ll have a beer. Desiree, what would you like?”

She bit her lip, feeling pain. “Um, I’ll have one too.” She slowly looked around the smoky room. Two pool tables were set up along one side. A long bar sat in the middle. The place was packed with people for the late hour. She spied what she was looking for in the corner. “Uh, Caleb, I’ll be right back.” She eased out of the booth, pointing to the corner of the room. “I need to use the ladies room. Just order me a burger or something when Sissy comes back.”

“Don’t be long.” Caleb’s eyes darted suspiciously around the room. “We aren’t sure that there isn’t someone following us.”

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She smiled as an afterthought. “We’re still not far enough from Salem for me to want to escape, yet.” She grinned at the alarmed look on his face. “I’m just kidding.” She chuckled to herself, making her way to the women’s bathroom.

Once inside, she leaned against the closed door, sighing. Exhaustion threatened to take over. Groaning, she pushed away from the door, walking over to the sink. Looking into the mirror, her body trembled with rage. Her appearance was shocking. “I’m going to kill Hargrove for this.” She raked her fingers through her hair, trying to repair the damage. She grabbed a paper towel, running it under the faucet, and scrubbed the blood and grime from her face. Her lips were still swollen, but there was nothing she could do about that now. She wished she had a hot shower and a change of clean clothes because she still felt grimy.

Walking back to the table, she sat down across from Caleb. Looking up, he smiled at her changed appearance. She leaned forward whispering, “Why didn’t someone tell me I looked that bad?”

Laughing, he held up his hands defensively. “I’m not stupid enough to say something like that to a woman.” He nodded his head in approval. “However, you do clean up nice.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled self-consciously. Grabbing her beer from the table, she sipped it. She had not realized how tired and thirsty she was. Her stomach was grumbling in protest.

Caleb frowned. “They could have at least fed you in that place.”

She shrugged, dismissive. “I don’t think they usually keep prisoners long enough to worry about it.” She picked up the beer bottle, peeling off the label in a nervous habit. “Besides, I wouldn’t have eaten the food anyway. I wouldn’t put it past them to poison it.”

He studied her closely, and seemed to come to a decision. “Jason Hargrove must really hate you…” She put the beer bottle down with that remark and their eyes met. “What did you do to him? Did you curse his family or something?”

She laughed at his unexpected question. “I wish I had thought of that.” She paused in thought. “Just as I am a descendant from a long line of witches, he is a descendant of witch hunters.” She sighed dramatically. “He didn’t need a reason, but he felt he had a good one. He was raised to hate me from the cradle.” Searching his eyes for understanding, she found him easy to talk with. “You see, I, uh, outsmarted his father about fifty years ago.” She laughed, remembering the incident. “Jason grew up on the story of the one witch that got away from his old man. I was the only blot on his stellar record… So Jason made it his life’s mission to bring me to justice. To save the family’s honor.” She stared down at the table again. “I’ve spent the last fifty years hiding from the Hargroves.”

“You won’t have to worry about Jason Hargrove anymore.” Mica approached her from behind. Jumping, she looked up at him in surprise. “I’m going to make sure he pays for what he did to you.” He slid into the booth next to her. Caleb glared at him and his choice of seat. She saw Mica grin back at his friend.

Her eyes darted nervously between the two friends, not making eye contact with either of them. The tension between them was obvious, and she did not want to be the cause. “Uh, thanks. I think.” She looked away nervously, shifting anxiously in her seat. She felt the raw energy radiating from Mica, and she found herself strangely drawn to it. This unexpected attraction made her edgy. He was a vampire, therefore, dangerous, and off limits.

***

Sissy brought the food to the table and placed it before Desiree and Caleb. “Ketchup’s on the table,” she remarked blandly. Noticing Mica, her eyes lit up, and she gave him a toothy grin. “What can I get for you, sugar?”

Mica grinned, barely giving the woman a second glance. “Just a beer, thanks.”

She reached over and caressed her fingers on the collar of his leather jacket. “Just a beer?” she repeated breathlessly, rubbing her body up against his arm suggestively and sitting down in his lap. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like anything else?”

The implied offer did not sit well with Desiree, who sucked in her breath. Her mouth dropped open in shock. “What kind of establishment is this?” she whispered to Caleb. He shrugged.

Mica heard Desiree’s quick intake of breath. Frowning, he pushed Sissy away firmly. “Just a beer.”

She sighed in disappointment. She turned to walk away, tossing a comment over her shoulder. “You don’t know what you’re missing, sugar.” She walked over to the bar to order Mica’s beer.

He cocked his head to the side. For some reason, that bothered him. Other women’s opinions of him had never bothered him before. He shifted uneasily on the bench. “Eat your dinner,” he grumbled, looking away. “It may be awhile before we stop again.”

Caleb and Desiree ate in silence while Mica sipped moodily at his beer. He could not help but notice her refusal to look at him. He should not care, but he did, and that realization bothered him even more. The longer he sat there, the blacker his mood became.

Caleb stared at Mica, seeming to assess his mood. He glanced over at Desiree, and she stared blankly at her empty plate. He saw compassion cross his features. “Mica…”

He felt her glare at his back. Even though he was leaving the restaurant, he could still hear them, his sense of sound acute. “Is he always like that?”

“No, I’ve never seen him like this before. Huh…something’s bothering him. I’m sure we’ll find out what it is sooner or later. His bark is worse than his bite,” he laughed. “Most of the time anyway. Let’s go. The longer we stay here, the more danger you’re in.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Mica stood by the driver’s side of the Express Van, waiting for them to come out of the restaurant. His temper had not cooled down much, but he had made the decision that he had a job to do, and he might as well get it over with. Why should he care what the witch thought of him? She was Drake’s problem, not his. He just needed to get her back to Drake and get on with his life. She was already more trouble than he had bargained for.

He watched Caleb and Desiree approach. “It will be daylight in a few hours,” he remarked to Caleb, pushing the button to pop the hatch. “Get in the back and get some sleep. Desiree can sit up front with me.”

“It has been a long day.” He shrugged. “I could use the sleep.” Shooting Desiree an encouraging look, he climbed onto the cot in the back. Sitting up, he peered over the back seat. “Wake me up before the sun rises.” He then sprawled tiredly on the cot, closing his eyes.

Mica approached Desiree on the passenger side of the van, opening the door for her. He saw the unease in her gaze as she climbed in. His manner reflected all business and duty bound as walked back over to the driver’s side, sitting down. Gripping the steering wheel, he glared out of the windshield a few seconds before he reached for the ignition. The engine roared to life, and he drove out of the parking lot, pulling into the first gas station he found and filling the tank. His manner remained “just business” as he pulled the Express Van back onto the interstate.

* * *

She stared at his mute, rigid profile for about a half an hour. This silent treatment was worse than his anger. Unable to tolerate the silence any longer, her patience reached its end. “Do you always act like this?” Her voice held a sarcastic sharpness. “Or did you reserve this silent treatment specifically for me?” She stared at him patiently for an answer.

He glared over at her. “I’m not the one that quit talking.” His tone held an accusation. “I was in a good mood until you sat in judgment on me.”

Her mouth dropped open. “I didn’t do that.” Her mind raced, trying to think back to the conversation in the restaurant. Maybe she had and did not even realize it. “If I gave you that impression, I’m sorry… I wasn’t judging you. I—I just didn’t like your answer to my question.” Turning her head, she stared out the window self-consciously. “It shouldn’t bother me that women act that way around you normally.”

He lifted his eyebrows at her statement, grinning. “So, it bothers you that women act that way around me?”

Her eyes opened wide when she realized what she just confessed to. “Just forget I said that,” she remarked defensively. “I can’t think straight when you look at me like that.”

He chuckled softly. “So, tell me, what makes Drake think you can perform this miracle?”

She threw out her hands. “I have no idea.” She shrugged, shaking her head. “I had managed to hide the fact that I was a witch from people for years. I probably could have kept it a secret for a few more years if my landlady hadn’t been such a snoop.”

“You must be a powerful witch to keep yourself from aging a day in a hundred years.”

She nodded at his assumption. “I am powerful, but I’m not as clever as everyone gives me credit for.” She laughed, feeling more at ease around him. “My not aging is a result of a spell that backfired.” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t think I could recreate it if I tried.”

Mica laughed with a deep rumbling from his chest. “Does Drake know this story?”

“If he does, I didn’t tell him.” She bit her bottom lip apprehensively, looking down at her lap. “I can hardly put two coherent words together in his presence. He intimidates the hell out of me.”

“Why are you afraid of him?” He cocked his head to the side briefly, looking at her before looking back at the road. “And me? I have keen senses. I can smell your fear.”

She looked down at her hands. “Because you are the one species that I can’t protect myself from.”

“Oh? Hmmm… Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s true. I can maybe deceive your kind with an illusion, and I might even be able to stun one of you. But destroy?” She shook her head. “I don’t think that I’m powerful enough. Besides, after that backfired spell, I’d be afraid to try. Even if I could, I don’t think I’d want to. I don’t want to be a captive for eternity, but he did send you to rescue me.”

“So…you can’t cast this spell he wants so badly.”

She tilted her head, thinking about his statement before she replied. “I…didn’t say that. I said that I wasn’t powerful enough to destroy one of you. I didn’t say that I couldn’t help.” She looked back up at him with more confidence. “It would take some work, but I should be able to come up with something.” She smiled with pride. “I’ve been a practicing witch for a hundred and twenty-five years. You learn a few things in that time.”

He looked over at her and their gazes locked. “You sure have a lot of confidence in yourself.”

She smiled and broke eye contact. “Not at all. I actually have very little confidence in myself. Especially after that blunder I made of my life, but I have a lot of confidence in my abilities as a witch if I concentrate.”

“Tell me something about that. How did Hargrove capture you in the first place? If you’re so powerful, why didn’t you just use your magic to break out?”

“Caleb asked me those same questions in the inquisition center.” She looked out of the window into the inky blackness. “Jason jumped me from behind in my apartment, knocking me out with chloroform. While I was out cold, he trussed me up like a Thanksgiving turkey, gag and all. He dumped me in that cell and locked the door. There were amulets buried everywhere, so my magic didn’t work.” She looked back over at him, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’ve never felt so helpless. I was sure this time I would die.” She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand, swallowing hard. Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin stubbornly. “It’s frustrating to know you have the ability to do great things and can’t even help yourself.”