Witchful Thinking (18 page)

After watching myself die and Mercedes bring me back to life again, I somehow managed to seek out the last creature on the list, a witch, and brought her back to life, albeit absentmindedly. I mean, I was still reeling over the fact that I’d just witnessed my own death and was sort of in a haze.

Then I observed a bright flash of light followed by a moment or two of total darkness. I must have passed out because the next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground outside, my face and cheek up close and personal with the rough dirt. I rolled over to find Rand and Mercedes leaning over me with concerned expressions while the ten recently reanimated creatures looked on in what appeared to be shock, something we had in common.

Surprisingly, I had managed to reanimate all ten creatures in one day, and I’d never felt worse. I was exhausted, but more than that, I still felt nauseous. When I asked Mercedes where in the hell she’d been during the reanimations, she’d replied rather dismissively that this was my gift, not hers … WTF?

Of course, I was quick to point out the fact that she’d played the part of the Energizer Bunny well enough when I died on the battlefield and she subsequently brought me back to life. Her reply? Reanimating me had
only been possible because I was part of the equation—I had to wonder if that meant that if I had been someone else, I’d be pushing up daisies right about now.

Well, I’d just been through hell and back so I didn’t feel like arguing or digging any deeper into a subject she clearly had no interest in pursuing, so I left it at that. Thinking I definitely deserved the night off, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to learn that Mercedes had arranged for my first lesson as Queen to begin that same evening!

Worst of all, my first lesson was ballroom dancing (by default due to the fact that my other tutors weren’t available on such short notice) … blah, blah, and blah again. If I could be described in one word, it would be
clumsy
, so I was looking forward to this lesson about as much as a stick in my eye.

Mercedes took exactly two minutes to introduce me to my instructor, Herr Strauss. Then she promptly disappeared, saying she needed to leave me to my lessons. Really, I think she just wanted to escape Herr Strauss because he appeared to be as interesting as a wall.

“Ven you are dancing zee Valtz, you must feel zee Valtz, taste zee Valtz, and zee zee Valtz in order to love zee Valtz, yah?”

My instructor (who must have been German or maybe Austrian) had the physique of a flagpole with long, skinny legs and arms; his posture was just as rigid. He was a were but unlike most weres, he wasn’t at all burly and his skin was so translucent white he looked like he could be the descendant of a turnip. His hair looked like white straw and matched the white of his trimmed mustache to a T. He looked like a praying mantis someone had doused in flour.

“Come zen,” he said, holding out his long, scarecrow arms, motioning for me to come closer, as I responded by taking a step backward.

We were in Rand’s ballroom—yes, Pelham Manor had
a ballroom, though this was the first time I’d ever been inside it. The floors were dark oak with cream-colored walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows boasted panoramic vistas that included a grove of elm trees bisected by a running creek. A carpet of bluebells decorated the grass, making it seem as though you were viewing some exquisite painting rather than the grounds of Pelham Manor. Inside the room, crown molding accessorized the junction of the walls and the ceiling; suspended from the center of the ceiling was the most ornate chandelier I’ve ever seen, its prismatic crystals reflecting rainbows all around the room.

“Like zis,” my praying mantis partner said, holding his stick-insect arms out before him as if he were blindly groping for a light switch.

I held my right arm like I was pretending to hug a tree and put my left arm directly in front of me, which I’m sure made me look like I was about to pull a
Matrix
move on him, Keanu Reeves style. The praying mantis scrunched up his face in what appeared to be disgust and dropped his elegantly draped arms down to aid my less-than-elegant ones.

“Zis and zis,” he said as he angled my arms appropriately. “Zen you follow mine steps like a box. A one ztep, a du ztep, a tree ztep, and four!” With that he whizzed around me, his feet in a perfect box step while I just observed in wonder.

“Now you,” he said. I tried my best to imitate him but as soon as I saw scrunchy face number two, I realized I’d failed.

Master Strauss didn’t get the chance to lambaste me further because we were interrupted by the sound of deep chuckling and clapping. We both turned to face the source. I frowned as I saw Sinjin emerge from the doorway, a smile of amusement lighting his handsome face.

“That is no way to teach a lady to dance,” he said,
arching a brow at the stick insect who merely “harumphed” in response. Sinjin strode right past him until he stood directly before me.

“My Queen,” he said with a lascivious smile. With a quick bow he took my left hand in his and pulled me in so close, my stomach touched his groin. Then, as if the fact that my stomach against his groin was of no consequence to him, he laid the palm of his other hand flat onto the small of my back. He glanced down at me and winked before facing Herr Strauss again.

“You must hold her closely enough that she can feel your body tightly against her so that she may copy your moves.” Sinjin dropped his attention to me, and his eyes were piercing as he gazed down at me. “You must glide with her, become one with her.”

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t help it.

“Zir, I have been teaching zee Valtz for zirty years,” Herr Strauss spat out, his eyes livid as he folded his tree-branch arms across his prepubescent chest.

“And I have been dancing the Waltz for hundreds of years,” Sinjin said flatly. Before Herr Strauss could argue further, Sinjin was suddenly gliding across the floor and I was moving with him. His feet swayed so lightly and gracefully, I had to glance down to ensure we were still touching the ground.

“Never take your eyes from your partner, poppet,” he whispered and I brought my eyes back to his ice-blue ones. “Your gaze must never leave mine. All you need to do is follow the lines of my body, allow me to lead you.”

I just nodded and smiled up at him, finding huge relief in Sinjin’s arms after my disastrous experiences with Herr Strauss. Just the idea of touching the praying mantis had been enough to turn me off dancing for the rest of my life.

“This is a very simple dance, really,” Sinjin continued. “I begin with my left foot and I execute a forward half
box.” He completed the half box. Then he stepped backward and did the same thing. “The next step is the same, only in reverse. And you, my very lovely poppet, begin with your right foot and execute a backward half box, followed by a forward half box.”

“You lost me at box,” I said with a smile.

Sinjin chuckled and pulled me in closer, until I could feel the swells of his thighs as they shifted against me. I’d never realized how … sensual dancing could be—how feeling the motion of a man’s, of Sinjin’s, body against mine could be such an … erotic experience.

I heard Herr Strauss mutter something angrily before stomping out of the room. After dancing with Sinjin, and feeling the expert way he whisked me across the floor, the idea of dancing with the stick insect was … unappealing to say the least.

“Just follow my lead, love,” Sinjin said as I obediently stared into his eyes, forcing myself not to second-guess my own feet. Strangely enough, they seemed to be doing a good job on their own.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you vampired me into knowing how to dance,” I said with an elevated brow, wondering if I hadn’t succumbed to some form of vampiric persuasion.

Sinjin didn’t respond but just smiled in an amused sort of way as he twirled me around the room so deftly, I didn’t even feel like it was me dancing with him. It was almost as if I’d had an out-of-body experience, and was watching a woman who looked like me—someone with long blond hair, blue eyes, and freckles across the bridge of her nose. But no, it was most definitely me, and I’d basically just mastered the waltz with Sinjin’s help. Feeling suddenly courageous, I decided to tread into dangerous territory.

“Sinjin?”

“Yes, my love?” he asked.

“Why have you always been so interested in the prophetess?” I asked with a sweet, innocent smile, as if I were merely curious and not burning with the need to know. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

He chuckled but didn’t lose a beat. Instead he twirled me in front of him and then pulled me back into the cocoon of his body. I almost lost my breath as I bounced against him and found myself so close I could feel the silkiness of his shirt against my cheek and his breath on the top of my head. Somehow I didn’t think we were dancing the waltz any longer. No, this felt more like the “forbidden dance,” whatever that was. I felt my heartbeat increase as blood rushed to my head.

“Interested, my pet?” Sinjin asked as he leaned into me, inhaling deeply, and smiled to reveal his fangs. “I make you nervous.”

I shook my head but I realized it was stupid to argue the point. He did make me nervous. I never knew what he was thinking, or what his intentions were. And he had a tendency to want to … touch me all the time.

“You’re a vampire and I’m full of blood,” I answered dismissively.

“That is not why I make you nervous.”

“Let’s talk instead about your fascination with the prophetess,” I said, pulling away from him, giving my feet a well-deserved rest and hoping some air might clear my head. I took another two steps back.

“I have no fascination with the prophetess,” Sinjin said and shrugged as if to reinforce his response as casual, unconcerned. “I believe the only person you could accuse me of having a fascination with would be you, poppet.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Only because I’ve got a crown over my head.”

Sinjin wetted his lips and narrowed his eyes as I felt my heart drop again. It was the expression of someone
who was about to pounce on his prey, about to take whatever it was he wanted.

“Not quite, my love. You know I have sought you from the beginning.” He paused for a second and then took the two steps that separated us. “Yes, from the very first moment you sauntered into my life, dressed in your little tutu”—I’d gone to a costume party dressed as a fairy—“my interest in any other females was forever quelled.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously, propping my hands on my hips. Sinjin’s libido was quelled? Yeah … No. Sinjin was the most sexual creature I’d ever met—he even rivaled Christa, and that’s saying something.

“I do not know, love,” Sinjin said as a secretive smile spread across his lips. “Did my heart love till now? Forswear it, sight. For I never saw true beauty until this night.” He ran his fingers down my cheek and chin and smiled again. His fangs were noticeably longer, and I’m sure I was just imagining it but they also looked sharper.

“Nice, Romeo,” I said with a hesitant smile although I had to admit there was something … romantic about an incredibly handsome man quoting lines from
Romeo and Juliet
. But romantic or not, I had to ponder why Sinjin appeared to have such an … attachment to me. Of course, whether or not that perceived attachment was legitimate was anyone’s guess. Regardless, I wasn’t the type to lead him on.

“Sinjin,” I began in a serious tone. “I hope this is all a big joke to you because you know we can never be anything other than friends …”

“Shh, love,” he interrupted, bringing his fingers to my lips. “I know you imagine yourself to be enamored of the warlock.”

I didn’t respond because I wasn’t entirely sure what to say. “Enamored of the warlock” didn’t really even begin
to describe my feelings for Rand. Then it suddenly occurred to me that maybe I should tell Sinjin I’d bonded with Rand in 1878—maybe then he would understand how deep my love for Rand really was. As soon as the thought sprang into my head, I rejected it. Somehow word would get out. Rand needed to hear about our bonding from me firsthand, not from the vampvine.

Sinjin dropped his fingers but not the soul-searching gaze in his eyes. “I am well aware of the rules of this game, poppet,” he whispered. “Therefore, let us have just one more dance.”

And so I did. I abandoned my hang-ups about Rand as well as my questions about what the hell Sinjin wanted from Mercedes. Instead I just allowed Sinjin to hold me tightly, guiding me around the room. I allowed myself to enjoy the feel of a man’s hands around me, Sinjin’s hands, and pretended that maybe in an alternate universe somewhere, maybe in the vicinity of Kurt Vonnegut’s planet of rolling tires, Sinjin and I could have our day.

It had to be midnight. Well, I wasn’t sure what time it was exactly, but judging by the pitch black outside, I assumed it must be the dead of night. I found myself in Rand’s living room, awaiting the arrival of Varick and Sinjin who had gone out feasting … On whom, I had no idea. Odran and Trent sat on Rand’s leather couch while Rand stood on one side of the fireplace and I stood on the other, trying to thaw the perpetual chill that had lodged itself in my bones. I never could get used to cold English nights.

Rand seemed to be doing his utmost to avoid looking at me and I was doing my utmost to avoid looking at him. It was silly but obligatory because it wasn’t like we could now get into the mega-conversation that we kept evading. It seemed that lately there was just too much
going on for us to reconnect. I was either in dance lessons or otherwise preoccupied with equally fun tasks while Rand was … well, Rand was Rand.

Mercedes stood at the front door, searching for any sign of Sinjin or Varick. She turned to face us again, letting out a sigh as though she were eager to start our emergency meeting. Apparently, an hour or so earlier, someone had arrived at Pelham Manor bearing the news that the Lurkers had struck in Vermont. They’d killed twenty Underworld creatures—actually the entire population of Underworld creatures who made their homes in Vermont—eleven weres, two witches, and seven vamps.

After another minute or so, Varick and Sinjin appeared in the doorway and Mercedes hurriedly ushered them into the living room. Upon seeing me, Sinjin smiled and bowed low, whispering “my Queen” in salutation. My heart rose up into my throat and my pulse thundered in my ears. I didn’t smile but just glanced away, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about our dance. For some reason, it almost seemed indecent to me—indecent that we had danced so closely and even more indecent that I’d allowed it.