Acting Witchy (Witch Hunters) (9 page)

Chapter Twelve

 

Three weeks later they were wrapping up filming. Mystique had decided not to stay for the wrap party. She needed to see her family one last time before returning home. She lugged her Louis Vuitton luggage out of the closet and began haphazardly throwing her clothes onto the bed. Sean was still onset viewing footage with the director.

She’d grown to accept her relationship with Sean but she couldn’t take him home to meet her family. She needed to do this alone. Each day, each time they made love, she felt the bond with him grow stronger. She refused to use her magic but she could feel it crackling beneath her skin, eager to be free. Sean had no such qualms. He practiced his magic whenever they were alone together. It frightened her how strong he was getting and how addictive he seemed to find his new skills. He’d made it snow inside their room the night before and made love to her as the flakes had fallen. It had been beautiful and fun at the time. The contrast of the cool flakes melting on her skin at the same time that his hot mouth cruised her body had been terribly erotic. When it was over, he’d asked her to help him clean it up with her own magic. She’d refused and it had led to a fight. It was their first fight regarding her powers but if she had to accept his use of magic then he would have to accept that she never intended to be a full witch.

She unzipped her bag and began stuffing her clothing into it. She gathered her toiletries from the bathroom, sweeping them from the countertop and into a bag. Sean expected her to be at the party tonight. She doubted it would take him that long to notice she was missing. Since their joining, she could sense his emotions. He’d tried talking with her through telepathy but she’d refused. It was unnatural. But that didn’t prevent them from sharing the occasional thought. She knew he was worried about her and that he truly loved her. He told her each night and every morning. She’d yet to tell him the same but he knew she loved him.

Her flight would take her to Charlotte first, but she should be in Asheville by three. Hopefully, that would give her enough of a head start to stay ahead of Sean if he should decide to follow her. Bags by the door, she scanned the room quickly to make sure she’d gotten all her belongings. She left Sean a letter on the bed asking him for patience. He hadn’t exhibited that trait in abundance in her experience with him. She prayed that just this once he would show some restraint and wait for her in Beverly Hills or the consequences could be dire.

****

Mystique entered the family bakery, Somethin’s Cookin’. It was amazing how little it had changed since she last saw it. She could smell fresh baked bread as the door closed behind her, a bell chime announcing her arrival. The same cozy tables and chairs were by the large windows at the front. A few customers sipped coffee and ate pastries. Business for the bakery had never been brisk. The food was delicious but service was terrible when her grandmother wasn’t around.

A display case held cookies, cakes and pies. And there at the end, her grandmother, Skye Gray, stood by the register. Her long soft hair was in a bun behind her head. There was more gray in it than she recalled but then she thought never to see her again. Mystique’s eyes misted over as she approached the counter. “Mama Skye,” she said, her voice thick with tears.

Mama Skye’s eyes widened. “Myst, child.” She came from around the side and pulled her into a tight hug. Mystique hugged her back. She’d missed Skye so much. Her support had meant the world to her when she was growing up.

Meadow appeared from the back carrying a loaf of bread. She paused when she caught sight of the two of them embracing before placing the bread in the display. She wiped her hands in her apron before approaching. “Mystique,” she said with a nod of her head. Her mother was tall and thin with dark skin and sharp features. With her beauty, she could have been a model but she would never leave the family business. Her dark eyes flashed around. “Did you bring him?”

Mystique’s jaw tightened. “Of course not.”

Meadow’s eyes narrowed as she studied her. Disgust tightened her lovely face as she spat, “You let him bind you.”

“I let him fuck me by your suggestion and that is what happened.”

“And you dared come here, possessed by that devil—”

Mama Skye placed a gentle hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Calm yourself.” She looked around pointedly. The bakery had grown quiet as the patrons listened to their argument. “Perhaps this is a conversation best had elsewhere.”

Meadow turned and headed for the back. Mystique followed her slowly. She did not look forward to this conversation. They went through the kitchen and to the office in the back. This room had dark shelves lined with books on one side and a wall of knives on the other side. Her mother took a seat behind the desk that had once belonged to her grandfather. It was a massive piece. When she was small, she’d liked to hide behind it while her grandmother took meetings with special clients.

“I don’t know why you bothered to come,” Meadow said stiffly.

Mystique sat on the couch. At the moment, she didn’t know either. She’d never have the relationship with her mother that she’d longed for throughout her childhood. Meadow hated her father and witches too much. A witch herself by birth, her mother had treated her especially harshly. Displays of affection were few and far between. She was not neglected or abused. She had never lacked for anything except her mother’s love.

“I wanted to tell you myself.”

“I worked so hard to raise you to take over the family business. You could have been the
best
of us
. Instead, you align yourself with one of them. Nikita is more of a daughter to me than you ever were.”

Mystique tightened her lips. Mama Skye was more of a mother to her than Meadow ever was, but she refused to lower herself to this game of trading barbs. “So I guess this is goodbye.”

Her mother shook her head. “You would choose one of them over your own family?”

“Was I ever family to you? Or was I just the spawn of a witch?”

She laced long delicate fingers together in front of her on the desk. “You’re my daughter.”

“But I’m also a witch. You never could forgive me for that, could you?” At five, she’d wished for a puppy. Meadow had been sitting on their porch watching over her and her cousin Nikita as they played in the yard. The neighbors had come home with a new golden retriever puppy. He was the cutest thing Mystique had ever seen. That night at the dinner table she’d wished for one and instantly a chubby ball of fur had appeared in her lap. It was her first bit of magic and her last. Meadow had scooped up the pup and put him in a box. She’d scolded her for making wishes, telling her that they were evil and she was never to do it again. Though she hadn’t entirely understood why wishes were bad, she’d recognized the revulsion in her mother’s face at her actions. The next day Meadow had taken the puppy to the animal shelter.

“I would have if you’d stayed and fulfilled the promise you displayed as a child, become my proper successor.”

Mystique stood. There was no point in staying. They would never see eye to eye. Meadow would only be satisfied if she turned her back on the half of her that was a witch. The bakery, while profitable, had never been their true family business. Special clients came to this office whenever they were having an issue they could not solve through ordinary means.

She studied the knives her grandfather had created from ancient metals known to be fatal to supernatural beings. Their family had hunted witches for centuries. They captured them, judged them, and if they were found to be evil, they dispatched them to the devil.

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

Sean stood before Mystique’s door. He didn’t knock. He knew she was gone. Placing his hand on the knob, he concentrated on the desired outcome and twisted. The door swung open. Right away he spotted the note on the pillow in the otherwise empty suite. He’d sensed that something was wrong all day. Unfortunately, he had been unable to get away any earlier. He read Mystique’s letter several times. There was no explanation of where she was going or why, merely that she would see him once she returned to Beverly Hills.

He crumpled the paper and dropped it into the trash can on his way out. Damn her, she hadn’t even ended the letter with an “I love you.” He could feel her love for him through their connection but she refused to admit it or commit to their relationship.

He paced his suite, trying to think through Mystique’s disappearance rationally. Shoving down primitive emotions, he recalled that she’d said she had family in Asheville. She’d said they weren’t close but family ties were difficult to ignore no matter how much people might wish to forget them.

Sean pulled out his cell and called Neva. “Neva, hi, um, question. Did you book a flight for Mystique?”

“No. She’s gone? What about the wrap party?”

He sighed. He’d hoped she would have asked Neva for help. It had been a long shot. Mystique was very independent. She would have planned her trip on her own. “Yeah, she’s gone, but I think I know where. Thanks, Neva. Hey, are you near a computer? Could you book me a flight to Asheville?”

“Give me a sec. I’ll use my phone.” He resumed pacing while his assistant checked for flights. “Hm. Looks like there are no more flights today, but you could catch a plane out in the morning.”

Instinct was riding him to find his mate now. Her unhappiness pressed upon him. “Never mind. I’ll find another way. Thanks again.” He disconnected, thinking furiously. Driving would take too long. North Carolina was a large state.

He could teleport. He’d never learned how to do it. It was difficult and dangerous if you didn’t know what you were doing. Only the strongest of witches could do it. He’d never considered himself particularly talented. But now with the strength of his bond with Mystique, all manner of magic was possible for them both.

Fortunately, he knew an expert on witchcraft who could help him with teleportation. He called his brother. “Keith, I need a favor.”

“Sure, what is it?” He sounded distracted. Sean could well imagine his brother sitting in front of his computer spinning one of his science fiction tales or performing research for another book on witch lore.

“I need to learn how to teleport.”

“Sure thing. Next time I’m in town, I’ll give you some lessons.”

“No, I mean I need to know now.”

“It’s not something you can grasp in a few minutes. It takes a butt load of power and can sap your abilities for hours.”

“Keith, Mystique needs me. I have to go to her
now
.”

“It’s that urgent?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t talk you out of this?”

“No.”

Keith mumbled something he couldn’t make out. “It might work since the two of you are bound.”

“How do I do it?”

“Think of Mystique. Concentrate on what attracts you to her mentally and physically. Focus on how much you want to be with her. It’s a complex form of wishing. Keep your phone close so you can call me in case you only manage to teleport half of yourself.”

He tensed. “Is that a possibility?”

“Probably not,” Keith said and disconnected before Sean could say more. He frowned, stashing his phone in his pocket. Keith’s tone hadn’t reassured him.

He took a deep breath and turned off the lights. He closed his eyes and concentrated on Mystique. Inhaling, he thought of her scent, clean and peachy, of her skin so soft and beautiful. He pictured her face that morning as he’d kissed her. Of the little mole to the left of her lip that he liked to kiss.

Nothing. Half an hour passed. Maybe he couldn’t do this. Fear and anger clenched his gut.

He refused to give up. Mystique needed him. He tried again, focusing not just on the physical, but also on their love for each other. Sean used their connection to pull himself to her. The distance between them seemed to evaporate. He could smell her, feel her presence. His body was light. He felt himself flung forward as though he were travelling very fast. His stomach dropped like he’d taken a dip on a steep rollercoaster.

When he opened his eyes, he was alone in a darkened bakery. He growled with frustration. So much for sensing Mystique. “Where the hell am I?” The bakery logo in the window declared the name to be Somethin’s Cookin’. The name didn’t ring any bells. A quick tug on the door verified that it was locked. The bell attached at the top of the frame tingled.

Sean ran a hand through his curls. He’d have to find the key. He didn’t want to break the glass as it would probably alert the police. And he didn’t have the strength to teleport himself again so soon. His arms and legs were shaky from his last journey.

Making his way towards the glass display of sweets, he could make out the sound of approaching footsteps. Overhead lights illuminated the bakery and then he was facing a tall, dark skinned woman with short cropped hair. She stopped upon seeing him but she didn’t appear frightened or surprised.

“As you can see, we’re closed. You’ll have to come back in the morning.”

“Of course. But since I’m here, I was looking for my wife.” His bond with Mystique was more lasting than marriage, but that was too difficult to explain. He hoped that saying she was his wife would buy him this lady’s assistance. “I think she was here earlier today.”

“Hm.” Her disinterest was apparent as she crossed to the door. “I was certain I locked this.”

“She’s from this area,” Sean continued. “Maybe you know her? Her name’s Mystique.”

“Mystique?” She turned to him and her dark eyes flashed over him before her lips tightened. “Yes, she was here earlier.” With a final glance at the locked door, she returned to the counter. “Follow me.”

Sean frowned. “You know her? Where is she?” She didn’t respond. He hurried to catch up with her as she led the way to an office. The plethora of knives on the wall had his eyes widening. He paused at the threshold until she invited him inside. He was wary and remained standing as she sat behind a large desk. “You know Mystique?”

“I’m sorry. I failed to introduce myself. I’m Meadow Gray, Mystique’s mother.”

Sean studied her but could see no resemblance. Their eyes were the same dark shade but perhaps it was the bitterness in her gaze that made them appear so different. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Gray. I was worried about Mystique. How was she when you saw her?”

She gave a casual shrug of her slim shoulders that answered nothing. Picking up a telephone, she dialed a few numbers. “Could you join me in my office, please?” She listened for a second. “Yes. Thank you.”

He was becoming uncomfortable but he couldn’t say why. “Where is Mystique?”

“Actually, I can’t say.” Another shrug. “She didn’t tell me where she was going when she left.”

He ran his hand through his curls. “Does she have other family? Friends here?”

“Mystique has not visited in some time. I doubt she’s remained in touch with friends. I’m sorry that I could not be more help.”

“You don’t seem concerned.”

“And you, witch, seem overly so.”

He heard a noise behind him. He half turned and then pain exploded at the base of his skull and his world tilted sideways. The last thing he saw was a pair of wicked black leather boots with impressive five inch heels come to a halt before him. And then all was darkness.

 

 

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