Page 53 of Witch's Fate

“Don’t get any ideas,” she said, though an enormous part of her wanted him to throw her on the bed. Itwouldn’thappen though.

She watched him strip down to his boxer briefs and stifled a sigh. Fates, he was big. All broad shoulders and planes of muscle. She’d never seen a man as well built and beautiful as he.

His golden gaze met hers. “In bed.”

She climbed in and turned away from him. The bed dipped, then his big arm wrapped around her and pulled her into his embrace. The most intense feeling of belonging swept over her. She hadn’t felt this in four hundred years.

Not since him.

It took her ages to fall asleep with his hard form pressed to hers, but every second was the most delicious torture.

The next evening, crows gathered on the roof of the Salem Coven’s mansion, their forms highlighted by the full moon. Malcolm kept an eye on them from where he and Sofia stood near the trees. All Hallow’s Eve had turned into a cold, clear night. The sound of waves crashing on the shore competed with the cawing of the crows.

“She’s almost late.” Sofia rubbed her arms and bounced on her feet. A dull metal band that matched his own flashed on her wrist.

This afternoon, after he’d given her some of his magical energy, he’d made her a band identical to his own. He’d given both bracelets enhanced dampening charms that would make it so that the other witches couldn’t sense them. They didn’t provide invisibility—so if they were seen, they were screwed, but at least the Salem Coven wouldn’t sense others in their home.

Sofia shivered hard.

He wrapped an arm around her to warm her. She stiffened, then slowly relaxed. Pleasure spread through him. He could make this work. He just had to convince her. Eventually, she’d see they could manage this.

You can’t escape fate.He shook away the thought, grateful when the mansion’s side door opened. Inara stepped out, clothed once again in jeans and a t-shirt. She approached.

Malcolm tensed, waiting to see if his enchantment would hold. When he saw her dark gaze, slightly confused but determined, he relaxed. She still had no familiar, which was odd for a witch, but she appeared to be under his spell.

“Are you ready?” Inara asked.

He nodded. “Are your coven members occupied? Not looking out the window?”

“They should be.”

“Good. Remember, we must not be seen by your coven.”

“Understood.”

“Lead the way.”

They followed her across the lawn, their steps quick and silent on the damp grass. The crows rustled, but they didn’t take flight or set up any greater racket. Up close, the mansion was unsettling. White paint peeled off the house siding and snakes slithered in the bushes. Not all witches were creepy—the ones at the university were downright charming if he recalled—but many were exactly as mortals envisioned them. It was mortal belief that had created them, after all, so it made sense.

Inara opened the side door. It creaked loudly. They followed her into a small antechamber. Black and white tiles covered the floor and ornate black wallpaper peeled from the walls. A chandelier burning real candles gleamed above.

“We go down the hall to the main stairs, then into the basement,” Inara whispered. “Keep behind me. This wing is used less, but if you hear anyone, duck silently into a room.”

They set off after her, Kitty in her smoke form, drifting along beside them. Sofia gripped her wand.

Portraits of witches watched them from walls hung with deep purple silk. Electric lights from another century lit their way.

Malcolm’s ears strained. He focused all his wulver senses on the house. If they were caught, it was over. They’d have the fight of their lives to escape and there was no way they’d get the book.

They passed half a dozen closed doors and two open ones, which revealed nothing more than dusty sitting rooms with empty hearths.

A noise sounded ahead. He grabbed Inara and Sofia’s arm to alert them and jerked his head toward an open door. They slipped inside and pulled the door closed. Heart thudding in his ears, he listened to footsteps approach.

Two sets.

Closer.

The doorknob turned.

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