Bewitch The Dark - The Devil To Pay Part 15

"A little. She's the one who suggested I bring you along."

"Oh, that can't be good. Will she be sizing me up as potential wife material?"

"Probably. But don't worry, her bark is much worse than her bite. She's mellowed since she met Dad. I wanted you to know the deal."

"You haven't been sizing me up as wife material, have you?"

"I just met you, Dez. First s.e.x and now marriage?" he said with a teasing lilt. "Woman, you are easy."

"Yet you've gotten neither from me. Two points for the witch following her heart."

"Speaking of hearts." Ivan pressed her against the wall. Focusing, she could pick up his heartbeat, faster than hers, almost like a hummingbird's wings. "You still have that fairy heart in a jar?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering. I...smelled blood on you earlier. Not your own. And it looked like you'd been working in your still room."

d.a.m.n, he was good. "I'll never tell."

"Right. But only because I've guessed correctly. I wonder what a witch can do with a fairy heart and a circle of salt?"

"Gotta be interesting," she replied.

Ivan pushed the double wood doors open and stepped inside. A long, plain room, tiled in white marble and sided to the west with floor-to-ceiling windows, was peopled with a dozen men and women.

He brought Dez around to his side, hands held, and introduced her to the council.

All the witches in attendance got up from their chairs, went down on one knee and bowed before her.

Chapter 12.

E very witch in the room had bowed to Dez-including Ivan's mother.

Ivan blew out a breath and looked to his father, who shrugged. Nikolaus Drake hadn't a clue what had just occurred. The other vampires in the room were equally as clueless."We are honored to be in your presence," Abigail Rowan offered to Dez.

Abigail was the appointed leader on the witch half of the Gray Council. She had fought the early war at the turn of the century against Truvin Stone but had turned peaceable much the same time Stone had. But for her pet.i.te frame and tiny voice, she was a powerhouse.

She offered Dez her seat, which was at the head of the table.

And Dez took it, offering a brief smile to Ivan. Stunned, he a.s.sumed his usual position by the window.

Abigail then made a more formal introduction. "Gentlemen and ladies, this is Desideriel Merovech, the keeper of the Grande Grimoire. For those vampires out of the loop, she basically sustains the witch nation with her sacrifice to protect the book of all spells."

"Ivan invited me to listen in," Dez explained. "I admit I've been a bit out of touch recently. I don't do television or media. But I feel the strife, as I cannot avoid the connection to the witch nation. The war has increased measurably?"

"It's at a dangerous level," Nikolaus explained. "News media have video of vampires feeding. We've sent out cleaners to take care of that situation, but it can only elevate. We need to stop the war now."

"There's been a suggestion," Abigail said, speaking softly and respectfully to Dez, "that perhaps the Protection spell should be reversed?"

"I thought you weren't behind that," Anastasia, the younger witch, said to Abigail.

"I was informing Ms. Merovech where we stand. What else is there to do?" Abigail paced the length of one side of the table. Her white silk suit whispered softly as she moved. "We don't have a large enough force of vampires and witches who stand at neutral to stop those who insist on taking down the other side. We are overwhelmed."

"I agree," Ravin offered. "We can't allow the mortal world to even begin to suspect we might be real, that vampires may be stalking them at night, or witches might be waiting around the corner to curse them."

"That's nonsense," Francois said.

"But it is what they will believe," Ivan interjected. "We know the mortal mind. It hasn't stopping chasing chimeras since the beginning of time, and yet, it doesn't want to believe there could be others unlike them. If beings of the night and magic did exist?

Monsters, all of us."

"It is far truer than I wish to imagine," his father agreed.

The council continued to offer news of the media focusing on vampiric-and witchcraft-related happenings around the world.

Ivan observed the conversation, but he didn't remove his gaze from Dez. She must be someone great to the witches for them to have reacted in such a manner. Was it merely because they knew she was the keeper of the Grande Grimoire? He knew it was one h.e.l.l of a book, but now he was really curious.

To sustain the witch nation? That suggested quite a lot.

And his mom had said she'd met Dez once. Yet now she acted as though he'd taken her utterly without warning.

Absolute serenity held Dez's features expressionless and soft as she listened to the various council members debate whether to send out destructive forces or to consider the spell reversal.

Gorgeous, he found himself thinking. And for once he wasn't coerced to do a thing about it, except stand to the side and bask in her beauty. And what was wrong with that? Didn't he deserve beauty? To admire and enjoy the presence of an intelligent, s.e.xy woman?

And he had no intention of stopping until the sun had set. And then? It was on to seduction, yet another untaxing task.

This fixer had taken a strange turn down an intriguing path. Away from destruction. And that felt d.a.m.n good.

"Ivan?"

Oh, right. Paying attention. "Huh?"

"Have you verified the reports on the west coast? About the witch burners?"

"Honestly, Dad, I haven't had time. I sent Marcus out to Los Angeles to report back. I'll check in with him immediately after the meeting."

Vampires had hired actual witch hunters to stalk their enemy. Which wasn't going so far as the witches recruiting werewolves to increase their forces.

"Let's reverse the spell," Ivan found himself blurting out. "We know it's the only thing that'll put an end to this ma.s.sacre on both sides."

Dez's serene expression grew harder. Had he ever noticed the jewel intensity of her eyes before? Or was she using witchcraft right now to influence him in a way that softened his stance? Because he felt like reneging that comment, and it took tightening his jaw and turning away to pace along the window to avoid it.

A fairy heart, eh? Some kind of spell for the heart, he suspected. Had she worked it against him or on herself?

"Ivan is right," Dez announced. "Perhaps there is some benefit to be had in reversing the spell."

The room stirred and Ivan felt the energies of magic and ancient immortality increase. His muscles relaxed, and he turned back to Dez. She had not worked the spell on him. His att.i.tude toward her hadn't changed at all. He desired her, as he had from that first kiss he'd stolen on the porch.

"But at great loss to the witch nation," Abigail argued. "If we no longer have poison blood in our a.r.s.enal, we have nothing against vampires."

"You're supposed to be neutral," Dez said, not judgmentally, but the tone of her voice made Abigail bow her head.

"Referring to your blood as a weapon to stock an a.r.s.enal?" Nikolaus Drake tossed at Abigail-now that question was filled with judgment.

"The vampires will not continue to retaliate," Ivan argued. "Perhaps initially they will, but once they realize the witches present no danger, they will stand down. I know it."

"You know it." Dez bowed her head. Her long fingers curled into soft fists. "But I don't think they know it."

"I'll make it happen," Ivan countered. "If I must die trying, I will do it."

And he and Dez held a challenge in their fixed stares. Would she fix him as only another witch could? Bind him in her stare and steal some of his magic?

Ivan blinked. He wasn't about to surrender now, much as the notion appealed on a sensual level.

"We'd need to develop an educational program," Ravin suggested. "Do we have enough to form small factions to send to the major cities to get this started?" "I'll look into it." Nikolaus stood and paced over to Ivan. "Only one problem. We have no means to reverse the spell."

The witches exchanged glances across the table, which all fell back to Dez.

And Ivan looked to Dez, beseeching her. "Why not?" he asked.

"Because," she stood and quietly announced, "there's but one witch who can reverse the Protection spell. The original crafter of the spell must do it."

"And we don't know who that witch is?" Ivan asked.

"Nope." Nikolaus hooked his hands over his son's shoulders. "Happened eight centuries ago."

"I'll find out," Ivan promised again, determined to make this happen.

"You're too busy," Ravin offered. "We can put someone else on it."

"No. I can do it. Just...give me a few days. I've a lot on my plate. But it will be done."

He clasped Dez's hand, and thanked the council members for allowing her admittance, then led her out the door.

When they stood in the elevator and the doors closed, he nudged her against the wall and dipped his nose into her hair, which smelled of so many different scents it would take him a long, slow night to figure them all out.

"One question," he said. "Who the h.e.l.l are you?"

It gave Dez a subtle thrill to see the uncertainty on Ivan's face. Himself's dark and dangerous fixer at a loss? Bet that had never happened in his short three decades on this earth.

But she wasn't one to gloat, or even feel superior. She had always considered herself equal to all others, no matter their abilities, upbringing or financial record. And yet, to the witch nation, she was revered. The guardian of the Grande Grimoire could be nothing but.

The elevator dinged. They'd reached the bottom floor. Ivan held her as the doors slid open, wanting to keep her back.

"We'll talk in the limo," she said. "I presume we're rushing right back to Maine?"

"We'll make a detour to my place, if you don't mind. I want to check with Marcus and make a few other necessary calls. Should I bow as you get into the car?"

"Don't be a child, Ivan." She walked out and strode down the marble hallway, not caring if he strayed behind after a comment like that.

That was another reason why she kept her lifelong occupation a secret-men could never deal with authority or power in a woman.

Once through the revolving door, the city bustled. An open-air market, thick with flowers and fresh vegetables, lured with bright colors and tantalizing aromas. As Dez stood before the limo waiting for Ivan to open the door, she toyed with walking over to check out the farmers' stands.

The air hummed. And when she focused, closing her eyes and reaching out for tendrils of magic, she found very little. Immense steel buildings and industrial pollution dampened the elemental forces witches summoned to aid in their magic. The magic was out there, but it was weak.

So there was an advantage to living in a small, lazy town. And the ocean increased her energies and made her water magic all the stronger. She wanted to test it right now.

So she did.

As Ivan opened the back limo door, Dez spread her arms out and tilted back her head. She had only to tap into the electric violet force that lived within her core to summon the rain.

"A downpour! Get inside, quick," Ivan said.

She took her time, gliding across the leather seat, and even rolled down her window to thrust out her hand to catch a few cold droplets. He slid in behind her and directed the driver to his home.

"You did that, didn't you?" Marvel sparkled in his eyes.

This was not an evil man, but one who sought direction and did what he must to survive and to protect his own.

"I wanted to test my magic in the city." Dez tapped the moon roof where raindrops pounded relentlessly. "I don't see how a witch can survive here with all the pollutants and electricity and industry to zap her strength."

"Their numbers dwindle daily," he offered quietly.

And they both knew it was not because of the city.

The limo drove in silence, save the patter of the rain. Dez could feel the consternation vibrate from Ivan's being. Emotions battled within him. His need to ask, but also his need to respect, made it difficult for him to relax next to her.

So she eased his frustration.

"They revere the keeper of the Grande Grimoire," Dez offered. She wiped away a streak of rain that wet the back of her hand.

"That is all."

"But how did they know you? Do you know all of them?"

"They know me in the sense that I belong to the book and it belongs to me. I've never met any of them, save your mother."

And that was one relationship she prayed would remain stale.