Witch Hunter Olivia (10 page)

“Sorry. Must have gotten the times mixed up,” I reply, hoping she buys it. I inch closer to the group and my abdomen twinges. Because of the bangle on Angelica’s wrist, the pain lingers.

“What were you two doing out here? It sounded like a bunch of howler monkeys wrestling,” she asks, and my first thought is:
Yeah, I guess Maulers do kind of sound like howler monkeys
.

I go to reply, but then stop when I see a shadowed figure silhouetted by the moonlight on the roof of the house. It isn’t until the figure draws out something resembling a weapon that I react.

“Move,” I yell, barreling toward Angelica.

Her surprised face goes from mine to the roof, and she freezes in place. The rest of the girls listen and hurry back inside the house. Now that I’m closer, I can see the weapon in the figure’s hand is a crossbow. When I hear the trigger mechanism on the bow release, I leap into the air and wrap my arms around Angelica, tackling her to the ground.

A harsh groan rattles my clenched teeth when a sharp pain courses through my arm as we both fall to the ground. It takes a few moments to feel the surge through my abdomen from holding onto Angelica, but once I do, it’s almost immediately replaced again by the throbbing pain in my arm. I roll off Angelica and look over to see a bolt protruding from the side of my right arm. My vision starts to blur as a funny feeling works its way through my body. Heath’s face comes into view and I try to focus on him, but I’m finding it difficult.

“Liv? Liv?” I hear him cry out, but it sounds more and more muffled each time he says my name.

Tunnel vision sets in. I feel hands grasp my shoulders, followed by a light jostle. My eyes become too heavy to keep open, and then they fall closed as I feel myself slip away.

The hum of a tattoo gun and Heath’s deep voice reciting what sounds like an incantation fills my head. I try to open my eyes, but they fail to cooperate. Heat spreads across my entire right arm, coupled with the annoying prick of the tattoo needle scratching at my skin. Little by little, my senses return. The smell of peppermint enters my nose and immediately reminds me of Heath, since it’s his favorite flavor of mint.

“Heath?” I grumble, grabbing lazily for whatever’s resting on my upper forearm. My eyes blink open and almost instantly close again due to the harsh glare from the lights shining above.

“Whoa, Liv. Easy does it,” Heath says in a soothing manner.

“Heath?” I ask again, since his facial features are still kind of blurry.

“Yeah, it’s me. You need to relax so I can finish the healing spell,” he says, placing his hand on my shoulder and gently pushing me back to rest against the chair I’m propped up in.

“What happened?” I ask, trying to remember.

I hear him sigh. “You were shot,” he answers in a low voice. “By your brother.”

“What?”

“Just after he fired the arrow, I went up to the roof to catch him, but he was too quick, even for me. His eyes were glowing purple. I think something had control of him.”

“Yeah, I saw his eyes do that too,” I mention, putting the pieces back together leading up to the point I was shot.

“The arrow was infused with dark magic,” he says, continuing to work on the tattoo. “I hope you don’t mind Gothic crosses, because that’s the symbol for the healing spell. It was my only way to heal your wound quick enough.” His voice sounds strained, and I can tell he was worried about me.

My eyes do their best to study the room we’re in, and it doesn’t look familiar. It especially doesn’t look like the Dark Ink parlor. “Where’s Tara? Where’s Angelica?”

“They’re both fine. Shaken up a bit, but fine. Angelica’s back at the sorority house, and Tara’s waiting outside. We’re in the back room of the parlor. You’re in my dad’s tattoo chair that he uses only for special circumstances. Thankfully, he still had some of this homemade healing ink. The bolt’s tip was bewitched to absorb the essence of whatever it hit. That’s why you passed out. You were being drained,” he explains.

I rest my hand on his and feel the warmth course through my palm and fingertips. “Thank you, Heath,” I say, turning to look at him.

A slight smile shows on his face when our eyes meet. His look glossy, almost like there are tears forming in them, or were left over from earlier.

“All done,” he states, putting an end to the buzzing sound of the tattoo gun.

I look over at the small black, pointed cross Heath drew into my skin just below where the bolt pierced my upper arm. It’s actually a cool little tattoo.

Right before my eyes, the small trickle of blood running down my arm from the bolt puncture retreats back into the wound before sealing itself and disappearing like it was never there. I graze my fingers across the area where the puncture was and feel no discomfort whatsoever.

“Tara’s out front if you want to see her,” Heath mentions while tidying up the tray nestled next to the stool he’s perched on. He seems fatigued, but I’m sure performing spells—especially powerful ones–takes a toll. He had been physically exhausted after Tara’s resurrection spell. Well, at least until we began making out hardcore, that is.

I pull myself to sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the chair to face him. I sway some and catch myself by grabbing the edge of the seat. “Yeah, definitely sat up too quickly,” I snort as I close my eyes until the room stops spinning.

“Need some help?”

I feel his hands rest on either side of my thighs. My eyes open to see his face hovering close by and his legs resting on either side of mine. The heat coursing through my body right now is enough to set my entire being on flame, and when our eyes meet, the smile on his face melts me to the core.

“You saved my life,” is all I can get out through the haze and warmth working its way through my head.

He takes my hands in his before standing up. I feel him pull up slightly, and before I know it, I’m on my feet. My legs wobble and I stumble into his arms. Our faces float near one another and I feel his mouth break into a grin next to my forehead. I pan my eyes up to meet his, and he steadies me again by wrapping his arms underneath mine so I have a chance to catch my balance.

“Whoa, easy.” His breathy whisper has me looking up at him again. “Maybe you should sit back down.”

“No, I’m okay. Really,” I reply, finally able to stand on my own without having to brace myself with the assistance of his strong, muscular arms.

I find myself unable to take my gaze away from his baby blues, and we stand here staring at each other. It’s like I’m seeing Heath for the first time. My heart pounds within my chest, and my palms begin to moisten—both classic signs of attraction. We’re standing here chest to chest, and what I initially thought was my own heartbeat hammering furiously in my ears is actually Heath’s.

He begins to say something, but I interrupt him by bringing my hands up to his razor-sharp jawline and draw his mouth down to mine. The first contact is soft and smooth, like Heath’s lips. He seems hesitant, so I pull back to look at him.

“Something wrong?” I inquire, feeling confused by his apprehension.

“Not at all. It’s just I told myself the next time we kissed, it’d happen after an actual date.”

“Oh … well, what do you call tonight?”

“The strangest date I’ve ever been on?” he replies before leaning down and locking his lips with mine again.

Warmth caresses my mouth and works its way up through my cheeks as Heath’s tongue gently maneuvers along with the kiss. His hands travel along my arms before transitioning to the small of my back, leaving trails of heat in their wake. He deepens the kiss while tugging me closer to him. My arms wrap around his neck and prop up on his broad shoulders. I feel like I’ve been set ablaze as Heath’s hands get antsy and begin searching my body for another resting place.

I gently guide him toward his father’s tattoo chair while maintaining our secure lip lock. When we bump into the chair, Heath laughs softly into my mouth, which only makes me kiss him harder. He eases himself down onto the chair and allows me to straddle his lap, one leg on either side of his hips. His hands run up and down my back underneath my blouse, and the intense heat almost becomes too much to handle. It feels like the sun is beating down on my skin, leaving me slightly burned, but in the best way possible.

Heath hooks his hands around my hips and slides me closer to him as his mouth trails from the crux between my neck and shoulder across my collarbone. He ends at the plunging neckline of my blouse and runs his lips over the entire area before continuing onto the other side. A moan of pleasure seeps out from me when I can’t hold it back any longer. The girth in his pants grows as he grinds into me while never removing his lips from my skin. It inches down his pant leg and rubs against my inner thigh, making me want to strip down and have him inside me right now. The more time that passes, the more it becomes a yearning or desire than just a want to be closer.

A sharp stinging sensation pulses through my right arm, causing me to cry out and dampens the mood entirely. I grab for my arm, trying to ease the pressure, but it doesn’t help. The intense throb surges through my shoulder and into my neck like I was shot again.

“You’re okay, Liv. It’s residual pain memory being wiped out by the spell. I was worried this would happen,” Health explains calmly. “You went through a trauma, and the healing spell needs a little time to fully take effect.”

I slide back from being on top of him and rest on the chair until the pain subsides. Gone is the warmth of his touch, replaced by this hideous pain.

“Holy shit, this hurts,” I groan, applying more pressure to my arm in an attempt to massage away the ache.

Heath sighs. “Well, you were shot. What most people don’t understand is that magic isn’t perfect, and there’s always an asterisk with fine print with every spell. You’ll probably have bouts of phantom pain for at least a couple hours or so.”

“Awesome,” I mutter, still massaging my arm. I begin to feel bad for how the pain is making me act. It probably sounds like I’m not grateful. “Hey, sorry. I’m not complaining about what you did for me. I really do appreciate this.”

“I know.”

A knock at the door ushers in Tara, who barges through after only knocking once. “Is everything okay? I got worried when I heard the screaming and hurried in here,” she announces. Her face lights up when she sees me and proceeds to rush over to give me a hug. “I’m so relieved to see you’re all right.”

Even with the tremendous pain I’m in, I wrap my good arm around Tara and reciprocate her hug. “It’ll take more than an enchanted arrow to down this girl,” I joke near her ear. Tara’s soft laugh makes me smile, and as she pulls away, she swipes a few stray tears from under her eyes.

“Oh, crap. Did I just interrupt something?” she asks, apparently realizing what Heath and I were doing before she entered. “I heard the screaming, and the painful noises, and didn’t think—”

“It’s fine, Tara. We were finishing up here anyway,” Heath answers after flashing me a quick grin.

I’m about to add my two cents when I’m cut off by the chime of the parlor’s front door. My curious face moves from Tara’s to Heath’s. “Expecting someone?” I ask with an eyebrow turned up.

Heath shakes his head. “Tara, didn’t you lock up with the keys I gave you?”

“I could’ve sworn I did,” Tara replies. “But there’s a slight chance I may have forgotten.”

“Should we go greet your new customer, Heath?”

He nods with a serious expression. I can’t help but wonder what we’re in for now.

To say I wasn’t expecting to see who was waiting for us in the front parlor is probably the largest understatement of the century.

Even though I’ve been away from witch hunting for a bit, I know when I’m looking at a light witch royal guard member, or in this case, three large men all dressed in matching white uniforms complete with stoic faces. There are three other individuals present too. Angelica, Hattie, and a woman with fiery red hair dressed in a white cocktail dress that almost seems to glow because it’s so bright.

Angelica’s standing off to the side with her arms crossed. Her hesitant eyes dodge my inquisitive stare. Hattie, on the other hand, looks to be a little frustrated, but that’s to be expected since this is the second time she’s failed at her job.

I feel Heath release my hand to bend down next to me, and when I glance over, he’s on one knee with his head slightly tilted toward the ground. He’s bowing. My eyes immediately pan over to Tara and she seems to be fighting with herself physically over something.

“Why do I have the overwhelming sense to want to curtsy right now?” Tara whispers over to me. I begin to go into panic mode, thinking she’s going to figure out what she’s better off not knowing.

“Because you’re a dork,” I comment offhandedly, trying to get her to snap out of it. Thankfully, Heath returns to his feet, and it seems the feeling to show respect to the High Priestess flees from Tara.

“Olivia Adams,” the woman, who I presume is Angelica’s mother, says while sliding off her long, pearly white gloves before handing them to one of the guards. “It has come to my attention tonight that you’ve not only saved my daughter’s life once, but twice. Is this true?”

I nod since I’m not sure what to say. I don’t want to get into specifics with the whole on-the-verge-of-a-possible-war thing still on the table because I can’t clear my brother yet.

She purses her lips together and walks toward me. The guards all react and try to interfere, but she waves them back. Her eyes bore into mine as she continues to move closer.

She turns to Heath. “Sorry about the door. My guards don’t know their own strength sometimes. I’ll make sure to have it repaired.” I tilt my head to the side in order to look past her and see the door’s handle is completely broken off the frame.

“No worries,” he replies, but he never meets her gaze.

I’ve never seen this type of interaction between royalty and a “lower” witch. Heath is usually sarcastic and blunt, but now he’s being so respectful. It’s weird to see him like this. I guess it’s kind of how we are with our Elders. There always has to be an alpha.

Her attention turns back to me. “I’ll make sure to keep my distance, Olivia, since I know how my presence makes you feel physically.”

“I appreciate that,” I reply, putting my hands on my hips and meeting her eyes head-on. “I never did catch your name.”

A small laugh bubbles up in her throat before she speaks again. “
Constance Delacour,” she replies with a cheeky smile. “
I almost forgot what it was like to interact with Witch Hunters. So abrasive and straight to the point. We usually make every effort to avoid crossing paths with your kind, even with the whole truce in play. And we most definitely don’t hear about a Hunter saving a witch’s life.”

“Is that your roundabout way of saying thank you?”

“Oh, dear … where are my manners?” she replies casually. “I humbly apologize for not expressing my gratitude sooner. It’s just that I was caught off-guard by this whole matter. I’m sure you can understand my confusion when I heard my Angelica was saved twice by someone whose sole purpose it is to keep our kind in line. Please forgive me for not coming right out and saying thank you.” Her tone seems sincere, but I can’t tell if there’s a hint of sarcasm there as well.

“You’re welcome?” I immediately get a little nudge from Heath. When I turn to face him, he shakes his head and sends me a firm look.

“You most certainly have my deepest thanks, Olivia. Actually, your deeds have earned you two favors from yours truly, within reason, of course. But before we get into all that, I do find myself quite curious about something. Do you by any chance have an idea of who is after my daughter?”

My stomach sinks. My eyes move over to Hattie, who’s giving me a pleading look. She clearly wants me to leave out the whole Tobias thing. Then I look over at Angelica and her face is full of hope that I might, indeed, know who’s behind this.

“Unfortunately, I don’t. I was just in the right place at the right time. I was at the rush party during the first attack, and got the times screwed up and arrived early at the sorority house tonight. I wish I had more to say, but I don’t,” I lie, and Constance’s expression lets me know she isn’t fooled by my answer.

“Pity. I was hoping this would come to a head tonight,” she says with a sigh. “It would seem we have quite the situation on our hands, and I may have a proposition for you, Olivia.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“Since you’re so keen on saving my daughter, I was hoping you’d agree to be her bodyguard until we’re able to put this issue to rest,” she explains. “I can most definitely make it worth your while.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Angelica nodding her head enthusiastically with a big grin. “How, exactly?” I ask.

“In addition to the two favors I already owe you, how does taking care of college tuition for both you and your friend here sound?” she asks, gesturing to Tara.

This offer seems too good to be true, so I take a moment to think it over. This would help out my mom so she doesn’t have to hide what she’s doing from my father anymore. But I’m not sure I want to, because I didn’t save Angelica because I wanted to be rewarded. I did it because it was the right thing to do.

“What about Hattie?” I ask. “Isn’t she already Angelica’s keeper?”

“Something tells me you’ll protect my daughter a little better,” she replies dryly, glancing over at Hattie before returning her gaze back to me. “Besides, Hattie isn’t muscle, and I need muscle here.”

When I cut my eyes to Tara, it seems she’s pretty pleased with the offer. We both knew going into this that the college fund Tara’s parents set up for her would run out before the end of our four years here, so maybe this is the best plan for us. Besides, this means I’ll be next to Angelica all the time, which might help me get to the bottom of this whole thing a lot quicker since she’s the target.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, but I think I’ll hold on to those favors for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“Delighted to hear it,” she says, clapping her hands together.

*****

“This is freshman housing, huh?” Angelica asks while standing in the open doorway of our room and looking in.

“Yep, this is it,” I reply, motioning for her to enter. “Weren’t you a freshman once?”

“Yeah, but I commuted from home. It wasn’t until I became president of Alpha Nu Gamma that I decided to move out and into the sorority house,” she answers while taking in our closet of a room. “This is … cute.”

“It’s not much, but it’s home,” Tara chimes in.

“Oh, I wasn’t insinuating … never mind,” Angelica responds.

“I call dibs on the shower first.” Tara rushes into the bathroom after snatching up her bathrobe and shower caddy. She always beats me to the shower, and yet I’m the one who actually needs it right now.

Angelica places her bag on the floor next to my desk and I see her count how many beds there are in the room. “There are two beds, and three of us.”

I have to hold back my sarcastic comment. “Yeah. You’ll sleep in my bed, and I’ll take the floor,” I answer, knowing full well I’m going to feel like utter shit tomorrow because of it.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to impose like that,” she says, putting up her hands.

Again, I have to bite my tongue and not say the first snarky comment that springs to mind. “It’s fine. This is only a temporary living situation.”

“You know, we could have stayed at the sorority house. We would’ve had more room there,” she comments.

“True, but you’ve been attacked twice there, and our room is a little more incognito than a giant sorority house at the end of a street. I’d say you’re a bit safer here.”

She nods with a slight smile. “Oh, and sorry in advance for any discomfort I may cause you by being here,” she mentions, taking a seat on the edge of my bed.

“Oh yeah, that. Don’t worry about it. I do have one request though.”

“Of course. Anything.”

I laugh. “Could you stash away that bracelet thingy of yours? It hurts like a bitch to be around when you’re wearing it.”

“Sure,” she replies with a little laugh of her own while removing the bangle and placing it in her bag. “Don’t tell Hattie, but I really hate that thing. She insists I wear it for my protection.”

“Yeah, well, while you’re in this room, I’m the protection. Just don’t forget to slap it back on when you leave for class in the morning, okay?”

“Got it,” she answers. “Hey, Olivia?”

“What’s up?” I respond while rolling out the sleeping bag I pulled from our closet, prepping my sleep area.

“I never got a chance to say thank you for saving my life again. I’m not sure why you did it, but thank you.”

“Just doing what I was trained to do … err, sort of. Usually I’m on the other side of the shooting, but keeping the peace is in my nature. I guess it’s hard to change a tiger’s stripes,” I say, smoothing out the corners of the sleeping bag so that it lays flat on the floor. I turn to look at her and she sends me a half-smile. “Oh, and if you can, try to limit the zombie talk around Tara. It’s not really a sensitive topic, but treat her like you would anyone else. I don’t need her developing a complex or anything.”

Angelica titters. “I was going to ask about that. I’ve never met a zombie half-witch before.”

My eyes get huge as I snap my head over to look at her again. “Wait, how do you know she’s half witch?”

“Oh, is that a secret too?”

“More than you can imagine, but again, how did you know that?” I ask with a little more urgency in my voice. Thankfully, this conversation has come up while Tara’s still in the shower.

“I looked up who her mom was to check into the whole legacy thing, and I found out who her father was in the process, so I put two and two together. It’s one of the main reasons she made it through to the next round of rushing,” Angelica explains.

“Okay, I’m only going to say this once: you cannot say any of this to her. I’ll explain in more detail later when she’s not in the next room, but it’s absolutely imperative you never mention this to her, or anyone else for that matter, all right?”

She nods with a furrowed brow. “Of course. My lips are sealed from here on out. Anyway, it’s the least I can do for someone who saved my life twice.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, but then tense up when I hear the shower shut off. Moments later, the bathroom door swings open and I flash a look to Angelica.

“Okay, who’s up next?” Tara asks, re-entering the room in her pajamas while drying her hair with a towel.

My eyes immediately find Angelica’s again. She proceeds to make the motion of locking her lips together and throwing away the key. “You can have it next, Olivia. I showered earlier. I’m more of a shower-in-the-morning kind of gal.”

“Thanks,” I say, making my way to the closet. I pluck out a long shirt and a pair of pajama pants before proceeding into the bathroom. I stop by the sink to collect some shower essentials along the way.

I can’t help but be nervous with Tara and Angelica in the room by themselves, especially after hearing what Angelica knows. I hear them laughing through the door and my heart skips a beat. What if Angelica slips up and mentions something she isn’t supposed to? Shaking off the nerves, I realize I have to trust that Angelica isn’t going to say anything to Tara.

Sighing, I turn on the shower and wait a few seconds until it gets to a tolerable temperature. Shedding my clothes, I toss them off to the side and test the water with my hand again before stepping inside. The moment the water begins to flow over my body, I feel a sense of release, but then that throbbing ache returns in my right arm.

“Damn this residual pain,” I murmur to myself as I massage the area above the clear bandage covering my newly acquired ink.