“What,” he grumbled, clearly irritated with me stopping him from his intended purpose.
“I want to know if we’re better now, with the issues between us. You let me explain, and I answered your questions, but you never said you forgave me.”
Vance let out a heavy sigh. “Did I really need to?” he asked. “I would’ve thought my wanting to ravish you up against a tree would’ve been answer enough,” he added, grabbing my wrists and pinning them to my sides as he leaned in. He kissed my neck again before trailing his tongue up the side of my throat to nibble on my ear.
I rolled my eyes in the darkness. “When don’t you want to ravish me up against a tree?” I asked in frustration. “That is most certainly not an answer to my question.”
He didn’t seem to give much thought to my words, however, moving from my ear to recapture my mouth, slipping his tongue inside as he deepened the kiss.
I gave up fighting him though, as his desire sparked my own in response, and I kissed him back.
Vance released my wrists and reached down to grab my legs, lifting them around his waist, and I slid my arms around his neck.
His mouth was everywhere, tangled with mine, kissing over my cheeks, moving down to suck against my throat. His fangs trailed long just hard enough to bring little droplets of blood to the surface, causing him to let out a soft groan as he lapped them up with his tongue, before he moved back to kiss me.
“I want you, Portia,” he mumbled against my lips, tasting the coppery flavor of my blood when he slipped his tongue back inside.
I matched him breath for breath, move for move, as we both gave in to the passion that was flaring between us.
He was animalistic in his ardor, reminding me of mythical stories I’d read where werewolves were bent on claiming their mates, needing to prove their dominance.
Vance chuckled roughly. “A werewolf, eh?” he asked, and I smiled, finding it funny he would pick up on that particular thought. “Let me show you exactly how werewolf like I can be,” he added with a sultry grin, and I could feel his excitement over the idea.
He attacked me again with renewed vigor, and I found myself a willing participant in his game, completely enjoying his promised ravishing as he pulled me into a new tangle of emotions and sensations.
The first dim rays of morning light found us lying together in one another’s arms surrounded by a green cocoon of ferns on the forest floor. My eyes were closed as I listen to the sounds of a few birds cooing and the soft music of the breeze whispering through the pines.
“Yes, I forgive you, Portia,” he murmured softly, and he placed a light kiss against my hair.
We stood together, staring at the cottage before us. I rolled my eyes again as Hex and Vance continued to argue over which was the best way to approach the property and to cross the wards.
I’d quit trying to offer suggestions or intervene, because they just kept talking over the top of me. I was pretty sure they’d forgotten I was even there. It was obvious the two of them were going to come to blows if something wasn’t done quickly though.
I took a deep breath and began swiftly walking toward the house, marching straight up to the front door, knocking loudly upon it.
“Portia, what are you doing?” Vance’s voice groaned into my head when he realized I was missing.
“Taking care of the situation,” I replied. “Now be quiet so I can concentrate.”
The door opened a crack revealing what appeared to be the eye of an elderly gentleman.
“Yes?” he asked warily, glancing over me suspiciously.
“Hello, sir. Please forgive my unannounced appearance on your doorstep. My name is Portia Mullins, and I’m a witch. My coven and I have a psychic member who believes you may be in danger from a certain demon who wants to obtain a key which is in your protection.” I waited, trying to seem relaxed while being on alert for any signs of an attack.
“You’re too late,” the man said, swinging the door wide open to reveal the devastation which lay inside. “He came during the night.”
My heart fell as I turned to motion for Hex and Vance who were still outside the wards.
“Are you okay?” I asked the man, looking him over from the top of his bristly white headed hair, over his stooped body covered in dirt, and down to the worn boots on his feet.
“Please, call me Earl,” he replied. “And yes, I’m fine. I was away overnight getting supplies for my master. I’m just the caretaker here.”
“Is your leader here?” Vance asked as he came up behind me with Hex.
“The master didn’t survive the attack I’m afraid, nor any of his coven. I’ve been working to bury the bodies out back.” He turned and beckoned for us to follow him.
I was amazed as we stepped inside, not just at the level of destruction I saw, but also at the amount of keys that littered literally every surface. They were on the ceilings, walls, shelves, floors, and any other flat space that could occupy some. It was incredible to observe how many different kinds there were.
“What are all these for?” I asked, trying to fathom why someone would want so many.
Earl chuckled. “Some are to special places my master was guarding, others have uses, and some are just collectables. The master was always accumulating keys of all varieties and from every era. He was enthralled with them.”
“Looks more like a hoarder to me,” Vance mumbled under his breath, and I elbowed him in the ribs.
“It’s a fascinating collection to be sure,” Hex replied, sending Vance a quelling look as well. Vance responded with an over exaggerated eye roll, and it made me glad Earl had his back to us.
We moved through a small living room area, followed by a slightly larger kitchen space. This room had a door in it that lead down some very steep looking stairs into the darkness beneath. We passed by it, stepping out to a screened in porch.
I tried hard not to gag at the burned, mottled looking bodies that lay spread out in a row on the roughhewn planks. It was clear Damien used Vance’s gift of fire to destroy everyone.
A burst of rage rolled through my mind, coming from Vance as he witnessed the scene before him.
“This is a fresh-blooded coven,” Hex whispered as he looked at the deceased men and women. “I’d been under the impression we would be facing a demon coven at this location.”
“More proof just how wrong your impressions tend to be,” Vance griped before stepping to grab a shovel that was leaning against the wall and thrusting it at Hex. “Quit standing there gaping. Let’s get this mess cleaned up.”
Vance’s anger over the situation was near boiling, and I knew how badly he wished he could kill his father once and for all right then.
“Portia, why don’t you go sit with Earl in the house while Hex and I take care of this,” Vance suggested, and I knew it was because he didn’t want me exposed to the gruesomeness any longer.
“That’s a fine idea,” I agreed, taking the elderly man by the arm and escorting him toward the key covered kitchen. “You’ve had a rough day, Earl, how can I help you?”
He stared around the messy room. “Well, I guess we can try to get stuff cleaned up in here.”
“Sounds good,” I replied, allowing him to lead the way. “Just tell me where items belong.”
We started in the living room, righting furniture and restoring keys back to their proper hooks and places. I was amazed how Earl knew exactly where each and every one was supposed to go.
I used my magic here and there to repair damage where I could. Some things had to be disposed of, however.
We had the living room and kitchen in fairly good order by the time Vance and Hex came back inside. I’d checked on them occasionally from the window to make sure they were working okay together, but they made fast work of the bodies by using magic to help make the graves. Vance also burned each of the remains in their graves before he and Hex covered them back up again. I knew he did that as a precaution, to make sure nothing bad could rise up again.
Fire, apparently, was one way to keep regenerating from happening, I’d learned from Vance. He told me Damien threatened him with it before I’d fully awakened after our capture. Learning that tidbit of information made me very happy for two reasons; the first one being I’d burned Douglas and Fiona’s remains in the bonfire when they died. One of them had to be the carrier for this regeneration gene Damien had passed to Vance. It wouldn’t do us any good to have them showing up on our doorstep. We had enough to deal with now without adding another demon to the mix.
The second reason was Vance was a natural born fire user. To destroy him that way would be near to impossible. Damien would have to cook up one heck of a blaze to get Vance’s body to the molecular level where his cells would melt and break down. It didn’t mean he was indestructible by any means. I wouldn’t have put it past Damien to just dump Vance into the middle of an active volcano if it served his purpose, but knowing he would be harder to destroy allowed me to rest a little easier.
“Hey,” I said as the men entered the room. “How’d it go out there?”
“It’s all taken care of,” Hex replied. “What can we do to help?
“The worst of the damage was in this part of the house,” Earl said. “There was some fighting in the upstairs bedroom where the master slept too, but everyone else must’ve run up from the basement when the ruckus started because nothing appears to be disturbed down there.”
“What’s hiding in the basement?” Vance asked as he surveyed the floor with a quizzical look.
“Nothing but bedrooms—living quarters for the rest of the coven. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself now that they’re all gone,” Earl replied, his head dropping for a minute.
Vance didn’t say anything, instead walking over to a hutch in the corner and sliding it sideways to reveal a small set of stairs to leading up.
“To the upper bedroom I assume?” he asked, turning to look at Earl.
Earl nodded. “The most important keys were kept up there with the master. The cabin is built so that doesn’t reveal a second floor from the outside. We placed the cabinet there as an extra precaution against any intruders who might want to steal them.”
“Well, apparently it wasn’t protection enough,” Vance said pointing to the floor. Every time you moved this, you were leaving scratches in the wood. That’s how I noticed it, and I’m sure that’s how my dad found it too.”
“Your dad?” Earl questioned with a slight faltering step backward, and I glared at Vance for not being more careful with his words.
“Earl, come sit down at the table and let’s talk.” I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and guided him.
“You can stop being all worried about him, Portia,” Vance said, folding his arms over his chest as he watched me shuttle Earl along. “He’s been lying to you since we got here.”
“What do you mean?” I glanced between the two, noticing the look of surprise that registered on Earl’s face.
“I mean he’s a warlock. A fresh-blooded one from the smell of it,” Vance answered. “He’s not just a caretaker. He’s part of the coven, or was at least,” he amended.
“I never said I wasn’t a warlock,” Earl said, lifting his chin a bit in defiance. “It’s true that I am. But unfortunately my magic never evolved much. My master took pity on me and included me anyway. I have enough powers to aid in fixing up and maintaining things around here, but that’s about it.” He flashed a glare at Vance. “I don’t lie. My word is as good as gold.”
“Fat lot of good that word’s gonna do you now,” Vance replied, his eyes still drilling into the poor man.
Earl burst into tears and sunk his wrinkled face into his hands. “I know. What will I do without the master and the others?” he sobbed.
“The first thing you can do is quit calling him master,” Vance growled. “No man—witch or not—deserves to make another beholden to him in such a manner. It’s degrading, and I for one am sick of hearing you say it.”
“Vance!” I shouted at him, angry for his rough treatment of the old man. “Have a little compassion would you?”
Vance glared at me and turned to stomp up the stairs behind him.
“I’m sorry, Earl,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “There are some things about Vance I need to explain to you.”
Hex grunted. “Yeah, like how he mostly resembles the hind side of a donkey’s ….”
“Hex!” I snapped, cutting him off.
He shrugged. “Well, it’s true,” he replied, turning to disappear down the steps into the basement.
“Earl, I’m sorry for all of that. The thing is, Vance is a demon, and I’m afraid he and Hex don’t get along at all.”
“He’s a demon?” Earl said, lifting his head, his eyes widening in surprise.
“Yes. One hundred percent. He also happens to be my husband. We were married before he was changed, but there were unfortunate circumstances that led him to where he is now.”
“How can you trust him? Aren’t you afraid he’ll try to drink your blood?” He glanced toward the stairway cautiously.
I smiled. “Actually, he does drink my blood, but I have a power which causes me to be immune to it, so it doesn’t change me. We’ve been fighting side by side for a long time now against the evil which invaded your life here. He’s proven trustworthy time and time again. Plus, I love him with all my heart and lucky for me, he reciprocates.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Earl said. “The demons I’ve seen are crazy with blood lust, completely out of control.”
“Sadly, that’s often the case from what I’ve been told,” I agreed. “However, it’s been my experience to deal with demons that are highly cultured and refined. They’ve taken control of the bloodlust by feeding often, and it allows them to be very intelligent in their decision making. To be honest, I fear demons like that even more than the other, because they can take the time to plot and plan against you.”
Hex emerged from the basement at this moment with a perplexed look on his face. “You have some pretty nice accommodations down there,” he said to Earl.
“Yes,” Earl nodded. “This area of the house was maintained this way to keep up appearances. We did most of our living downstairs.”