The Curse of Dark Root: Part Two (Daughters of Dark Root Book 4) (41 page)

A dimple formed near Sasha’s lined mouth. “Maybe I didn’t want that problem with you.”

“You’re a real bitch, woman. Did you bring me back to Dark Root just so you could rub it in my face?”

She smiled secretively, the dim lamplight softening her face. She looked beautiful––even young––and he found himself surprisingly drawn to her. Despite her matronly attire, she was a powerful woman––perhaps the most powerful woman he’d ever been with. His desire to siphon from her, even though she’d never allow it, awakened his hunger. He licked his lips.

“I never meant to rub my children in your face,” Sasha apologized. She looked almost penitent. “It wasn’t in the cards for us to have children before...”
 

She let her words trail off, and Armand knew she was baiting him.

“Look Sasha, I’m pretty good at reading people, but I still have no f’ing clue what you want from me. The Council’s always been a mess, so there’s more to it than that. Are you going to tell me or shall I wait to be surprised?”

Her response was quick and to the point. “We need more male energy. I was hasty in getting rid of you, and short-sighted to think we could handle this alone. But Armand, something really big is brewing. The winds of change are coming, and if we don’t intervene this whole damned world could snuff out.”

“Like this?” He snapped his fingers and all the lights in the room shut off. He snapped them again and they lit up.

“You’ve gained in power,” Sasha whispered.

“Yeah?” He smiled, enjoying the look in her eyes and the way her aura flared with excitement. It aroused him even more. “You should see what I can do with fire now. Got a lighter?”

Sasha shook her head.

Oh well, her loss. He looked at the tip of his finger, eager to show off, but decided to wait for another time.

“Leave California, Armand. Move back to Dark Root, just until this possible future shifts. After that, I won’t call you back again. I promise.”

“Promise, huh?” He laughed as he reached into his jacket pocket and removed a cigarette, then remembered he still didn’t have a lighter. He lifted his index finger and a flame emerged. It was a useful trick, but hurt like a bitch. He took a drag, blowing smoke into Sasha’s face.

“You really want me to move back to Dark Root? Even after you told me to never set foot in this town again? Sounds like a trap to me.”

“What did you expect? You were sleeping with my cousin, tampering with my spell book, and opening portals you couldn’t close! That thing you set loose in Joe’s diner took weeks for us to exorcize. It was nearly impossible to close that gateway, and who knows how long it will hold. What else could I do?”

“So what makes you think I won’t do all that again? And what about…” He didn’t say Jillian’s name, but he didn’t have to. He ran his hands through his hair and looked away.

“I’ve made some changes.” Sasha went to a shelf and produced her spell book. She handed it over and he sensed its barbed energy. It was covered in layers of protective spells, one on top of the other. He opened it and flipped through the pages. Some entries were missing––specifically those on summoning and banishment and necromancy. The darker arts.

The longer he held the book, the more he felt its defensive effects. Soon, he was overcome by a sluggishness, making him sick to his stomach. He handed it back, glad he’d memorized anything useful before he’d left. As enchanted as it was now, he had no interest in touching that thing ever again. “That’s your change? You made it so I can’t read the book? How’s that supposed to entice me?”

Sasha touched her hair, unloosening a curl. That simple act of womanliness ignited a spark inside of him. He had scores of women in LA, all younger and sexier, but none who could pull on him like this.

“You’ll have to do more than that,” he said, though his eyes never left that long, errant curl.

She reached beneath her chair and produced a wand. Her lightning wand. The wand that restored health, and beauty... and life.

He held his face impossibly still, though his right eye betrayed him with a tick. He was a powerful magician. He could move things and summon things. But life magick eluded him; it was out of his realm.

But with Sasha’s wand...

“You’ll give this to me?” he asked in disbelief.

“No,” she said plainly, folding her hands onto her lap. “But I’ll use it on you. Regularly. Every three months. Soon you’ll be slimmer, healthier, and as young as the day I met you.” Her eyes traveled from his middle-aged waistline to the silver threads invading his auburn hair. “You’ll be able to smoke without blackening your lungs, eat without gaining weight, and indulge in your pleasurable activities without getting...” Her eyes wandered below his belt. “Sick. If The Dark does come, you’ll be more prepared to fight it. If it doesn’t, then you’ll have more years to enjoy yourself. What do you say?”

He almost reminded her that she’d never paid up on her last deal, but he held his tongue as he considered his options. He hated Dark Root, but the temptation of the wand was too great. Suffering through a couple of years here might be worth gaining a few decades of added life. It would also buy him more time to fulfill his oath to his other debtor.

And Sasha did let slip that the portal in Joe’s diner might be easily accessible.

“If it sweetens the pot, Larinda is back as well.”

He waved his hand indifferently. “I’m glad she found her way home. Who knew she expected me to be faithful?”

“So what do you say, Armand?”

“I say... what the hell. A few years away from civilization might do me some good.” He pointed a finger at the witch. “But I get the first dose tonight. There’s a suspicious mole I’d like to get rid of.”

“I’ll use my wand on you when you move back,” Sasha countered. “Then, once on every equinox and solstice.”

“Don’t you have a normal calendar with normal holidays?”

She cackled. “You always made me laugh, Armand. I’d forgotten about your sense of humor. As for your accommodations, you may stay here at Sister House, if you like. The nursery is currently occupied but I’ll make up the sewing room.”

Armand heard the little girls running and screaming as they trampled down the hallway upstairs. “No, thanks. I’ll stay with a friend.”

“And Armand, Jillian is off limits. Understood?”

He widened his tired eyes. “Still afraid I’ll corrupt her? Maybe she’ll corrupt me.”

“Her magick is unbalanced lately. I believe she’s reliving some past trauma from losing her parents. She doesn’t need you toying with her emotions and making it worse.”

Sasha went to the front door and opened it, leaving Armand to wonder what just happened. In the course of one conversation, he had agreed to move back to Dark Root, and resume his station as Sasha’s lackey. He grabbed his cowboy hat and made for the door. As he passed the witch, he grabbed her, kissing her roughly. When she finally returned the kiss, he let her go.

Now, he had the edge.

“Goodbye, Darling,” he said, putting on his hat. “I’ll get my things and be back in a few days.”

“No lightning wand until you’re here an entire week,” she said, her chest still heaving from their kiss.

“Roger that.”

“And Armand...?”

“Yes?”

“I only have one wand, and I’m going to watch over it very carefully. There aren’t two of them, unlike say, the ankh necklaces.”

“Okay...”

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. I misplaced my own ankh necklace ages ago. You never found it, did you?”

“I haven’t seen your necklace since the day you first showed it to me. Now, I better run. I need to go stock up on umbrellas if I’m coming back here. See you soon, babe.”

He closed the door behind him, already wondering if he’d made the right choice.

I AWOKE THE next morning soaked in perspiration, the sheet wrapped about me like a mummy’s shroud. I glanced at the baby monitor. Montana was not in his crib. Grabbing my robe, I rushed to the nursery, relieved to find Michael feeding him a bottle. Once my heart rate returned to normal, I kissed my son on his cheek and headed downstairs, feeling Michael’s somber eyes follow me out of the room.

I found Shane in the kitchen, sitting between Aunt Dora and Jillian, chatting over scones and tea. He was speaking animatedly while the two women hunkered close.

“That’s incredible!” Jillian exclaimed. Before even seeing me, she added, “Wouldn’t you agree, Maggie?”

“Yes, an incredible story,” I confirmed, draping my arms around Shane’s shoulders. He turned his head and kissed me and I took a chair at the table.

“There’s a lot o’ magick in this boy,” Aunt Dora said, her eyes sharp. “He has Joe’s talent, as well as his blood. An’ more besides.”

“Is that a good thing?” Shane asked, pouring me a cup. “I know your feelings on warlocks, Dora.”

She grunted as she carefully rose from her chair. “We are raisin’ up a warlock now. It’ll be good fer him ta have solid role models.” She patted Shane’s hand as she carried the empty scone tray to the sink.

“We saved you a muffin,” Jillian said. She pushed a small plate my way and I dove in, hungrier than I realized. Good sex, a bad curse, and strange dreams had taken a lot out of me. The trio watched me silently as I ate. I caught on that they were waiting for me to say something.

“I uh, told them you didn’t sleep well. You tossed and turned all night.” Shane reached over and felt my head. “And you’re still warm.”

“Montana’s got a slight fever, too,” my aunt chimed in.

I nodded. “Today’s Sunday, so I’ll call a doctor first thing in the morning and see if Michael can get him in.”

“Let’s hope that helps,” Jillian said. “As for you...”

I patted Shane’s hand. “If it’s alright, I’d like to talk to Aunt Dora and Jillian alone.”

He squeezed my shoulder and grabbed his cowboy hat. “I’ll be under the hood of my truck.” Shane gave me a private wink, then left through the back door.

“I just can’t believe he’s home,” I said, watching him through the back window. “I have everyone I love here. I’ve never been so happy.”

Aunt Dora eyed me in my robe. “Ya gotta put on some clothes or yer gonna drive these men into a frenzy.”

“Ha!” I caught my reflection in the kitchen window. My hair was a bramble and my skin the color of rice paper. “Anyone who finds me sexy right now is in need of therapy.”

“Ya’d be surprised what men find interestin’. That’s why I wear house frocks.” She pointed to her antiquated white housedress, dotted with tiny blue flowers. She looked more like a walking tea pot than a sex pot. I shot Jillian a private smile and we stifled our laughs.

We sat together, three generations of women and witches, allowing ourselves the quiet luxury of soaking in the morning sunshine. Fall would come, but it was months away. I shuddered to think what my condition would be if I didn’t break the curse by then.

“Have ya been lookin’ at the globes, Maggie?” Aunt Dora asked, clicking her nails against her porcelain cup.

“Yes. I have just one left,” I confessed. “I’m afraid of what it holds.”