Resting Witch Face (Stay a Spell, #5)

by Juliette Cross

She ran to the far wall of books and touched her finger to a thin golden spine. A door swung open, then she disappeared into the darkness. Ruben stood at the threshold and turned to me. He held out his hand and smiled. I reached out...

stood in a wild forest, a stirring of leaves drawing my gaze to the old oak tree next to me where thick green vines snaked up and around the trunk, seeming to strangle it. I stepped toward a glow of flickering light. In a clearing, there was a cauldron hanging over a blazing fire. No one was around, but it was obviously set there by someone. Then the voice called to me. I walked to the fire and peered into the cauldron, the brew inside swirling with a menacing hiss. Then I heard the voice again. It was Violet. “Stones are old, stones are cold, but blood is colder.”

“Before we went under, I heard you say something about old stones. Then in the vision world, you said it to me again, speaking from a cauldron.”

Sometimes what we saw in our minds during the round was nothing more than dreams or fantasies. But oftentimes, they were visions. Premonitions. What I experienced was definitely a premonition.

“It’s fine, Clara. I just had a strange vision that I don’t understand.” “Sometimes clarity comes later,” Violet explained. “My Seer visions hardly ever show me anything that I can decipher at first. But something may come to you later to help you out.” Violet tilted her head, the purple-dyed ends of her long blond hair sliding over a shoulder. “Did you sense danger?” “No.” I paused, remembering the vines strangling a tree. “Not really. But it wasn’t exactly a good vision.”

“Keep your psychic eye open. It will likely come to you soon enough.”

Violet was our Seer, who could call upon her innate gift whenever she liked. But the rest of us had only degrees of psychic ability. It c...

“I had a flashing premonition earlier. When I returned that constellation book to your library, I touched the chair you always sit in to read.” She paused, glancing toward the chalked witch’s wheel. “And? What was it?” “A sculpture of a woman with a hooded cloak veiling her face. The sculpture stood in a field, surrounded by woods.” “Weird.” “My visions are always weird, but that wasn’t even the creepiest part. There were vines wrapping around her like they were alive, like they were trying to strangle her. Or keep her anchored to the ground.” Vines again? That was strange. What did it mean? “You think the premonition was of me?” “Yes. That I know for sure.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t go on this trip.” I huffed out a breath. “And give up the campaign to get the werewolves a seat on the High Witch Guild where they belong? Not a chance.” I linked my arm with hers and guided her toward the house. “Besides, like you said, these visions aren’t always what they seem. The vines could mean anything. It could mean connection, strength, the tying of the werewolves into the Guild.” “Or strangulation and suffocation and death.”

“Don’t be so morbid, Violet. Did you see death?” She was quiet before finally shaking her head. “No. Not yours anyway.” “What does that mean, not mine? You saw someone else’s?” Panic flooded me, my pulse speeding wildly. “I didn’t see death at ...

“The statue may not even represent a person. A hooded figure. It could be the host of witches in the Guild or it could represent witchcraft ...

Ever since she didn’t see her own imminent kidnapping, which resulted in no harm to her, and the attack on Livvy, which resulted in great harm to her attacker and emotional distress to Livvy, Violet had been hyper-vigilant where her visions were concerned. And always thinking the worst.

“If you sense anything dangerous at all,” continued Violet, “you tell Ruben. I plan to tell him about this vision, too, just to be on the safe side.”

“I thought you were going to argue and tell me not to tell him.” “Whatever makes you more comfortable, I’m totally fine with.” “It’s not about that, Jules. It’s about taking care of you.” She pulled me to a stop to face her before we entered the kitchen. “You’re always taking care of us, of everyone else, but sometimes, someone needs to watch over you.”

I’d always been watching out for them. It was my duty and responsibility as the eldest sister and as the Enforcer of New Orleans. I never minded or regretted that. Well, maybe I did once. But I’d made the right decision then.

After what Ruben said to me last night, I understood I’d be given that choice again. And the blood coursing hot through my veins told me I might be making a different choice altogether this time. Rather than fear it, and though I was unsure, I still found myself eager for tomorrow.

Cuddling the soft, sweet-smelling bundle in her pink quilt that Clara had made her, I slung a burping cloth over my left shoulder and made my way downstairs.

“Someone’s hungry?” I cooed as she chewed on her fist, eyes crinkling with delight. “You’re such a sweet girl.” She smiled bigger, her almond-shaped eyes tiny slits of green like her mother’s.

“You’re going to be a little heartbreaker, aren’t you?” I whispered as I walked ...

“There is no one emotion I feel at one particular time, Mom. I’m feeling all the feelings all of the time.”

“When you warned me back then, Mom, you were right. I couldn’t trust him.” I never took you for a coward. His accusation back then still stung. “I was untried, and there were reasons I couldn’t let myself continue in that relationship.”

“That’s good,” Mom added softly. “Did you fear what happened to your Aunt Penelope might happen to you?”

When Ruben and I had first started dating, Mom had told me the story of my Aunt Penelope, her sister, who’d been seduced by a vampire overlord named Broderick. Once he’d gotten his fangs in her neck, he’d used her power as a Siphon—or Enforcer—for himself. Mom had told me the story not because she thought Ruben was like that vampire who’d abused my aunt but simply to remind me that Siphons held unparalleled power which came with a heavier burden of responsibility.

“Ruben Dubois has established himself as vampire overlord here. He seems content in his place here.”

“As I said, he knows his place. And you have grown into your own power. You have full control as Enforcer of New Orleans. I keep tabs on you, you know, and everyone says that my daughter can hold her own against anyone and she leads this region with honor and force when necessary.” Her hand fell to mine, where it rested on top of Celine’s belly. “I couldn’t be prouder of the witch and the leader you’ve grown into.”

“Because I’m afraid I might’ve been too harsh during your transition. It might be my fault that you’re still…” “Still single?” I huffed a sort of laugh. “No. And yes. But I meant that you’re still so unhappy.”

“All of the things I told you were meant to protect you, but perhaps I was wrong.”

“From what I’ve seen, there’s something different in Ruben’s gaze now. He’s more tempered than he was when he first moved here and when you were going through the transition of power.”

“People change, Jules. And he’s changed.” She stood and leaned over, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. “There’s always a catalyst for change in a man as independent and strong as one like Ruben Dubois.” She lifted my chin with her fingers. “I can bet I know what’s taming his beast. Or rather who.” She patted my cheek and left the living room toward the den that we’d made into a guest bedroom while she and Dad were here.

Ruben was by no means tame, but he was different than when he’d first arrived. I tried to recall one moment when he’d overstepped since that last time, but there hadn’t been one. As a matter of fact, he’d made himself so scarce for a while that I thought he’d left town altogether. He hadn’t. He’d put all of his focus on building his businesses, especially his vampire den, which he’d renamed The Green Light. I wondered why he had changed the name. Perhaps telling me in some symbolic way that vampire-kind didn’t need to hide their nature like a dirty secret, giving the green light, as they said, to drink blood to their fill.

I’d never said they couldn’t or shouldn’t, but perhaps I’d implied something along those lines in my rejection of him. Either way, I never had the courage to ask him about the name change, and he’d never bothered to offer up the information. He’d stayed out of my way—as I’d asked—for a very long time.

The past two years had brought us together more. With the curse on Mateo, the blood trafficking ring we’d worked on, the werewolf pack coming to town, and with what had happened to Livvy. And now, the campaign to gain the werewolves a seat in the High Witch Guild would throw us together for the we...

Sprawled with legs and arms splayed wide was Diego, confident and secure in a deep sleep in his father’s arms. He already looked so much like Mateo with those dark curls.

The thought of our growing family and the future filled me with both joy and sad unease. What would my own future look like as my sisters started families of their own? Would I ever only be the doting, spinster aunt? And whose fault would that be if I was?

I remembered how often she liked to be snuggled in a sweater or blanket. Without looking at her, I felt around the backseat until I found my suit jacket and then placed it across her lap.

My jacket practically swallowed her entirely, and my body’s reaction was rather unexpected. I’m not sure how or why, but the simple act of her being covered in an article of my clothing had my dick hardening in my dress pants.

Now my dick was fully hard, no half-measures about it. I knew Jules wasn’t offering her own throat. If she ever did, I’d likely lose my fucking mind with desire. I’m not sure I could ever trust myself near her perfect, slender throat, but because I knew her better than she understood, I knew exactly what that question was about.

“No, I fed last night. I should be good for a month or two.”

I was a patient hunter. I’d waited this fucking long, so I was going to do this right. No spooking my prey. No sudden movements to let her get away. I’d wait in the underbrush, let her get comfortable with my presence and my intent, let her circle and draw closer by small degrees. It would be a slow, deliberate seduction so that once she was within my reach, she’d be ready for me.

no matter if my tactics might appear merciless to her in the near future, I wasn’t going to let her imagine all kinds of nefarious bullshit that she could use as ammunition to reject me. It was time to set some things straight, if even by slow degrees.

“I don’t fuck my blood hosts. For me, there is no sexual exchange.”

I was aware my toxin gave pleasure. For Damon, it apparently felt more like a drugging high rather than an orgasmic one.

I’d recently chosen Damon as my preferred blood host because there were no mixed signals. Oftentimes, women thought I chose them as a prelude to a relationship. It could become awkward and annoying. Since Damon was heterosexual, I knew there would be no chance of him misconstruing this as a ploy to get him into bed. Ours was a mutually beneficial exchange. He received the strength and youth-giving properties of my toxin, and I was well-fed for weeks, sometimes even two months at a time.

“I wasn’t aware you used male blood hosts.” “Now you are.” “You’ve been using them often?” “More and more recently. Damon has been my only bl...

“Why do I solely choose a male blood host? I’ll tell you.” A surge of gratification washed over me. Finally, I could address this nonsense. “Because I was told about a year and a half ago that a certain witch got up on stage at her sisters’ birthday celebration, performed an inebriated rendition of Alanis Morissette’s ‘You Oughta Know,’ then was put soundly to bed by her sister who happened to see a text on the drunk sister’s phone of me feeding on another woman.”

Alright, so maybe I wasn’t going to move at a snail’s pace. Not when it came to shit like this. I wasn’t going to sabotage my chances and throw it all out there at once, but it was time to clear the air about this.

“Isadora told you?” she practically hissed. “As if your sister would betray your confidence.” I scoffed. “It was Devraj.”

“She means nothing to me. And you mean everything, so yes, I fired her. She’s out of the picture. So if it was her, she’s gone now and won’t get in between us again.”

My blood pumped hard and fast through my veins, still furious at whoever had betrayed me in such a way. And for what reason? I suppose the only one with motive would’ve been Beverly, but I still didn’t believe she had the balls to do something like that, knowing my wrath if I ever found out.

“It doesn’t matter.” Her voice dipped solemnly. “You can feed on whomever you like. We aren’t together.” Pushing past that last gutting sentence, I stated succinctly, “It hurt you...