Witchful Thinking (12 page)

“Jolie,” Rand said, reaching for my hand and pulling me close behind him. He squeezed my hand reassuringly—as if to say he’d make sure the scary vampire would soon be on his way.

Sinjin laughed. “You think I would harm her?”

“You care only for yourself.” Rand spat the words. “You allowed Jolie to fight in the battle, you fucking bastard. It’s your fault I watched her die.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” I interrupted, stepping out from behind him. He refused to unlock his eyes from the vampire, so I grasped his chin and forced him to look at me. “Fighting was entirely my idea, my plan. If you’re mad at anyone, it should be me.”

Rand shook his head. “Sinjin helped you when he should have known better.” He faced Sinjin again and the anger in his eyes increased tenfold, his aura swelling as purple began to eclipse the blue. “As far as I’m concerned, it started with Sinjin and it will end with Sinjin.”

Sinjin nodded, not appearing to be fazed in the least.
“Yes, I aided our lovely witch. But you know how persuasive she can be. And you also know of my weakness for a damsel in distress.”

I wasn’t in the mood to listen to Sinjin taunt Rand all night. We needed to cut to the chase. “What do you want, Sinjin?” I demanded.

Sinjin brought his attention from Rand to me, and a smile slithered over his mouth. His eyes seemed to glow as he eyed me up and down. “Is that not obvious, pet?”

“I want you off my property,” Rand said but Sinjin just smiled at him. Then Trent suddenly took a few steps forward, as if to say he would see to it the job was done. They were poorly matched—Sinjin could make mincemeat of Trent in … hmm … I’d say three seconds flat.

“Rand,” I said, thinking he was taking this whole thing a bit far. Yes, Sinjin could be a jerk, and yes he and Rand had never had a good relationship, but Sinjin was on our side and always had been. In truth, Rand blamed Sinjin for something that I’d orchestrated, and I wasn’t about to stand by and let Sinjin take the blame.

“You are no longer our ally, Sinclair,” Rand lashed out, refusing to look at me.

“This isn’t his fault,” I repeated.

“Shhh,” Sinjin interrupted. “Do not defend me, poppet. I have come to declare my loyalty and, as I mentioned last night, my supplication to the Queen.”

“Last night?” Rand questioned, his gaze traveling from Sinjin to me. His eyes were both murderous and pained. “What the bloody hell does that mean?”

Just as I was about to reply, Sinjin did it for me. “I visited our lovely witch last evening, just as she was dropping off to sleep. She does appear ever so innocent when she sleeps, does she not?”

“Jolie?” Rand repeated, his eyes begging me to disaffirm Sinjin’s announcement.

I shook my head, panic enveloping me as I realized
how incredibly bad this looked. “Rand, nothing happened.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized they were the three worst words I could have said. Why is it that “nothing happened” screams just the opposite—that everything happened and then some?

Rand shook his head but the anger remained in his expression. “Why the bloody hell did you allow him into your house?”

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice,” I said, remembering how Sinjin had just appeared in my bedroom. “He just sort of showed up.”

“In your bedroom?” Rand demanded. Not only were Trent and Odran completely quiet, but they’d been moving farther and farther away from us, which was just as well because I really didn’t want an audience.

“The lovely poppet speaks the truth, Randall. I was not invited,” Sinjin finally admitted, allowing me to find my breath again.

“If you so much as laid a finger on her,” Rand started, his voice full of fire and anger. He turned to me, and the fury in his eyes was frightening. “Did he touch you?”

“He didn’t touch me,” I said although there had been that whole kiss—a kiss that now plagued me—a kiss I wanted nothing to do with. I glanced at Sinjin and warned him with my eyes not to betray me by admitting he’d stolen a kiss. That would send Rand over the edge.

Rand nodded and appeared to be slightly relieved before he turned to face Sinjin again. “Where the bloody hell have you been?”

Sinjin shrugged and offered me a smile that said our secret was safe. I didn’t return the smile because I was suddenly angry with him—angry that with Sinjin everything was a big game. He enjoyed pushing Rand’s buttons, but we didn’t have time to deal with this now—not when we had so much to accomplish with regard to our legion.

“I have been keeping a low profile, as they say,” Sinjin replied.

“Doing?” Rand continued.

“He won’t admit anything to you,” I answered, not wanting a repeat of last night. I turned to Sinjin and allowed my angst and irritation with him to seep into my voice. “Why don’t you make it easier on everyone and just tell us the truth?”

“Because that would be too noble for Sinjin,” Rand interrupted, reaching for my hand and wrapping it in his own.

“When is it a crime to merely take some time for oneself?” Sinjin asked with a chuckle as his gaze settled on our clasped hands. “Are you trying to impart some information regarding Jolie and yourself?”

Rand nodded. “Yes, I’m imparting the information that you need to stay the hell away from her or else you’ll have to answer to me.”

“You are such a spoilsport, Randall,” Sinjin said with a grin although I could have sworn Rand’s actions had somehow thrown him off. There was something in Sinjin’s eyes that hadn’t been there before, maybe just the slightest inkling of doubt?

“Wherever you’ve been, I suggest you return,” Rand said.

“On the contrary, my good man,” Sinjin replied, laughing. “As our legion is stationed here, so should I be.”

“I don’t have time to deal with you.” Still holding my hand, Rand turned around and started for Pelham Manor.

“Then perhaps Jolie should deal with me instead. I enjoy her company much more than I ever did yours,” Sinjin said as he easily caught up with us and hovered beside me.

Rand stopped walking and faced him, his aura now entirely purple. “I want you out of here.”

“I am part of your legion. When the legion leaves, then so shall I. You would not want me to accuse you of playing favorites?”

Rand shook his head. “I won’t accuse you of anything except being an absolute bastard.”

“And besides,” Sinjin continued, “I believe you are no longer in command here, and my orders herewith must come from our lovely Queen.”

I didn’t glance at Rand because I didn’t really need to. I could feel the fury radiating from him.

“As long as you are stationed at Pelham Manor, you’ll answer to no one but me, do you understand?” Rand demanded.

Sinjin arched a brow and smiled. “I understand perfectly well.”

Somehow, I didn’t think he was referring to the conversation.

After the altercation with Sinjin, I followed Rand back into the house. I wanted to talk to him about the fact that he couldn’t blame Sinjin for allowing me to fight in the battle against Bella and also that Sinjin was and always would be our ally. Somehow I had to make him realize that we needed Sinjin—he and Varick basically controlled the vampires, so it was important for them to be on our side. And Rand needed to rein in his temper where the vampire was concerned.

Approaching the back door, Rand catapulted himself up the steps and stomped through the hall, a frenzy of nerves and bad temper. I followed and stood at the entrance to the kitchen, watching as he began rifling through his cupboards. He was so preoccupied with whatever it was he was doing, he didn’t even realize I was there. I took a seat on one of his stools, leaning my forearms against the black granite countertop of the bar as I watched him open a cupboard and, not finding what he was looking for, cuss and slam it shut. He opened another cupboard only to slam it shut again.

“Whoa, someone’s in a bad mood,” Christa announced. I glanced over at her. She was lying on the couch watching
True Blood
while working on something that looked like an Excel spreadsheet. Probably something Rand had tasked her with. She arched her
brows at me, turned off the TV, and stood up, placing the bundle of pages beside her and her highlighter on top of the pile.

“Who the heck burst your bubble?” she asked.

Rand looked at her and must have seen me out of his peripheral vision, because he offered a quick nod of his head in salutation. Facing Christa again, he frowned.

“A fucking vampire burst my bloody bubble.”

She didn’t say anything more but threw me an expression of pity and vacated the living room, disappearing down the hallway.

Rand turned around to face me again and offered an apologetic sigh. “I thought I had some bloody coffee in this bloody kitchen.”

I smiled, I couldn’t help it. “Why don’t you just bloody magick some?”

He shook his head, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. But his foul mood must still have been raging because just as quickly as it had appeared, the faint smile fell off his lips. He started running his hands through his hair, then approached the counter and leaned against it.

“I can’t seem to best Starbucks,” he said.

I shrugged. “They have made coffee their life’s passion.”

He chuckled and then studied me for a few seconds. Looking at him, my eyes were drawn to a few drops of blood that stained his light brown sweater, Sinjin’s blood. He followed my gaze and, seeing the blood, tore the sweater over his head. His white T-shirt underneath rode up, gifting me with a view of his six-pack. He glanced at me again, pulling his T-shirt down to hide his beautiful torso.

“Fucking vampire,” he grumbled as he inspected the bloodstains.

“They come out with cold water,” I offered.

He wadded up the sweater and threw it on top of the
metal trash bin in the corner of the kitchen. Apparently cold water might remove the blood but not the vampire himself.

“I’m sorry you had to witness my foul mood,” Rand said, looking down at me with a slight smile on his full lips.

I shook my head. “It’s not a big deal.”

“That bastard Sinjin just rubs me the wrong way.”

I nodded and chewed on my lip. “That’s what I came to talk to you about.”

Rand eyed me with a wary expression and a heartfelt sigh as he backed away from the counter and reached his arms behind his neck, expanding his chest, as if he needed to alleviate some stress. Probably a good idea. The sleeves of his T-shirt bunched in his armpits, revealing the peaks of his biceps. I forgot to breathe for about five seconds.

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture,” he said, dropping his arms.

I shrugged. “Well, you’re going to get one anyway.”

He glanced at me in surprise and started chuckling. It was a deep, rich sound. “Am I?”

I jumped off the stool and walked around the bar until I was standing right in front of him. He towered over me and seemed to be amused by the fact that I was going to lecture him, all five-foot-four of me.

“Yes, you are,” I answered, propping my hands on my hips to warn him not to argue with me. “Would you like me to deliver your lecture here or somewhere more private?”

“Would
you
prefer to deliver your lecture in a more intimate environment?” he asked, raising a brow as a shameless smile stole across his lips.

I shrugged again. “I can reprimand you anywhere—it makes no difference to me.”

“Very well,” he said and offered me another quick,
flirtatious grin before leading me from the kitchen and up the grand staircase. “I prefer to be chastised in the privacy of my own bedchamber, thanks for asking.” He took the stairs two at a time and reached the second floor while I was still halfway up the stairs.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were looking forward to this,” I said.

“Perhaps I am,” he answered as he started down the long hallway that merged into Pelham Manor’s master chamber, his bedroom. He opened one of the double doors and held it for me. I entered and immediately felt embraced by the room, as if I were coming home again. It was a strange feeling that sort of threw me because I really hadn’t spent that much time here. Although the memory of a time I’d gotten drunk with Christa suddenly plagued me. In my drunken stupor, I’d fallen asleep on this bed. At the time, Rand was out of town, and when I awoke the next morning I found him smiling down at me, no doubt wondering what the hell I was doing in his bed. To make matters even more embarrassing, there was also a framed photograph of him wedged beneath my chin, and my drool was all over his pillow.

As I glanced around his private chambers now, I realized that nothing in his bedroom had changed. It was still the orderly (as in bordering on OCD) space it had been before, nothing out of place. Rich mahogany wood furniture complemented the hunter green of the walls. The dark oak floors gleamed around an Aubusson rug that reiterated the earth tones of the bedroom.

I inhaled deeply and filled myself with Rand’s spicy scent, suddenly light-headed. I grabbed hold of one of the bedposts for extra stability—feeling like I might just keel over right there.

The sound of the door closing behind me made me turn around. I faced Rand as I realized we were now completely alone. And he was ungodly gorgeous and I
had suddenly become ungodly horny. But I hadn’t come here to have sex with him … although for the moment my mission had completely escaped me. It took me a second to wake my brain the heck up. Then I remembered. I was here to reprimand him.