Witch Upon a Star (A Midnight Magic Mystery) Read online

  I grabbed the back of my lover to draw him toward me, kissing him deeply before pushing him away. “As you wish, my Asher.” I slipped my hand in his. “But it will cost you a dance.”

  He gave me three, which were three more than expected. He enjoyed watching me dance more than the act itself. I practically had to give my paramour a command ballet performance in our home studio every other night. Not that I minded as it often led to another enjoyable physical activity. That night he handed me off to another vampire for the polka as he watched from the sidelines with a proud smile affixed. I lost sight of him during the waltz, and after that Lord Augustus claimed his two dances and my undivided attention. When I did spy Asher during the second dance, a dark-haired woman in a bright red gown had her arms binding Asher’s neck while she kissed his cheek.

  My first instinct was to rush over there and pry him from her clutches, but I managed to suppress the urge. However, when the dance ended, I convinced Augustus to escort me over to the now threesome. As I walked closer, I was struck by how young and innocent the girl appeared. The pale skin gave her away as vampire but she looked about my age, if not younger, with full, pouty lips, perfect elfin nose, and the largest brown eyes I’d ever encountered. And now this enchanting girl was sitting in my lover’s lap laughing her beautiful head off with Asher guffawing loudly as well. The last time I’d made him laugh that hard was when I overloaded the dishwashing detergent and the machine exploded bubbles all over our kitchen. That laugh riot had an X-Rated ending. Trust, I thought. Trust.

  The girl caught sight of me first but instead of rising, she threw her arm over Asher’s shoulders. To most a perfectly innocent gesture, but I recognized the move for what it was: a claim of ownership. I’d enlisted the same maneuver every time we were out. Asher at least had the decency to appear a tad guilty when he noticed me, blue eyes diverting to the floor before rising to extract the pretty interloper.

  “Hello again,” Augustus said. “Didier. Christine. So glad you both could make it.”

  “I finished the job earlier than anticipated,” the third man, Didier, replied in French. Even then I was struck by how tall he was.

  “I was informed. Excellent work as always.”

  “And what exactly do you do?” I asked politely.

  “He murders people for money,” Christine said as if informing me he were a barrister. Did it with a smile too.

  “Christine!” Didier hissed.

  “What? We are among friends. Between the five of us he probably has the lowest body count. Unless lovely here is not as angelic as she appears.”

  “You have no idea, dear,” I said with a knife’s edge.

  Not missing a beat, she said, “Yes, I do believe Byron mentioned something to me along those lines.” I turned as red as her dress and glanced at Asher, who’d gone stony still. “Your reputation does precede you, Anna, is it?” She extended her gloved hand. “I am Christine. Lovely to finally make your acquaintance.”

  Having no real choice, I shook it. Her grip was so tight I wanted to flinch but kept my expression neutral. “Likewise, I’m sure.”

  Christine released my hand. “You are a fetching creature, little one.” She turned to Asher and smirked. Even that was seductive. “You always did have a penchant for us nubile, pretty faces.”

  My stomach knotted twice. I knew it. They’d been lovers. One glance at Asher’s shifty eyes that wouldn’t focus on me confirmed it. She was that Christine. And he wondered why I hated attending social events. “Really? You two were an item? He’s never mentioned you before,” I lied innocently. “How odd.”

  Her name had come up once or twice in our long conversations. If memory served they had the same sire, Marcellus. Where Asher marked the first of his line, Christine marked the last. Asher slayed their maker when he’d discovered Christine’s mistreatment, among other personal atrocities commited against his spawn that spanned over four hundred years. That was the trouble that separated him from Jane, him killing his maker then fleeing to the Americas only to be found once more. He spoke of his “sister” with tenderness, but he did finally admit to their on and off again carnal couplings through the centuries. I recognized the pattern. She’d get in trouble, he’d go running, they’d fall into bed. No matter the age, we are creatures of pattern. I hadn’t consciously exploited his savior complex while in Rome, but my subconscious can be a real bitch at times.

  My rival’s smile faltered, and with that lie, in that instant I made a new enemy. Now how I wish I’d just kept my fucking mouth shut.

  Asher, sensing the impending cat fight, cleared his throat. “I am parched.”

  “As am I,” I said before holding out my arm to my lover. “Shall we, my love?”

  He took it, though after a glimpse at Christine. I could sense the daggers on my back as I led us all back to our box. I took my place on Asher’s lap and Christine did the same across from us on Didier’s. She did make sure her foot touched Asher’s, but I knew to pick my battles. It would be a long war. “So, how long have you and Didier been together?” I asked.

  “We are not exactly together,” Christine answered. “I mean, we fuck on occasion. Asher knows how that is.”

  “Not anymore,” I said, wrapping his arm around my waist.

  “Oh, domesticated him, have you? I attempted it once, though doing the same thing, the same person over and over, night after night, was so very … dull.” She sipped her blood then grinned. “Well, I suppose it is good for some.”

  “It has been absolute bliss for us,” I said.

  “Has it now?”

  “Absolutely,” Asher said with certainty.

  The corners of Christine’s mouth twitched a little. “Then who are you and what have you done with my Asher?” She chuckled before looking my way. “Unless Angel here is a witch and has you under a love spell.”

  “I am actually,” I said, “a witch. But unlike some, I have never had to resort to tricks or spells when dealing with love. The universe saw fit not only for our paths to cross, but for both Asher and I to recognize the other for what we were. Soul mates.”

  Christine chuckled again. “So, you finally found that elusive of all the magics: true love.” She sipped her blood again. “And here I thought it only existed in fairy stories. And as we all know, only children believe in those.”

  “Oh, true love is most real,” Asher chimed in. “And there is nothing like it on this earth.”

  Christine sipped again. “Actually, if memory serves, you have been lucky enough to find it on more than one occasion, have you not my Asher? There was Cordelia. Jane. That barmaid in White-chapel. Olivia, was it? Terrible what happened to her once she left you, but Lord Richard had no choice I suppose. Did anyone ever find out who turned her in after she left you?”

  Asher’s grip on me tightened. “No.”

  “Shame. Out of all your true loves, her I rather liked.” Christine took another dainty sip. “I only hope this one does not disappoint as the others eventually did.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you do,” I said snidely. “But there’s no cause to worry.” I gazed at Asher, smiled, then leaned down to give him a deep, probing kiss usually reserved for behind closed doors. He returned my ardor and grinned back when I finally pulled away. “Is there?”

  “No,” he whispered.

  “We shall see,” Christine said in singsong, ruining the mood.

  Both Asher and I glared at the bitch, who just smiled sweetly as she finished her blood.

  Thank the universe Asher finally changed the subject, focusing on the hitman in our midst. I’d never met an assassin before, let alone one who could teleport. As Christine could not stand to have the spotlight off herself for more than five minutes that conversation was cut short. The first available opening, she steered us back down Memory Lane in a car built for two. I didn’t speak seven words the entire hour as the old friends guffawed and reminisced about Victorian London and parties at Versailles. Usually I adored these stories, learning abo
ut Asher’s life before me, but not when every avenue led to sex. Didier grew bored half an hour in and excused himself, but no matter how much I wanted to, I held my ground with a smile for every smutty anecdote. I could put up with her for a night. It was me he would return home with.

  This was what I told myself when I could no longer hold off the urge to use the bathroom and left them to powder my nose. Trust. I trusted him. I trusted him enough to get something to eat and even dance a few times, though my partners only received a quarter of my attention as my eyes rarely left the entrance in anticipation of his arrival. Which never happened. He didn’t come looking. Didn’t chase after me. When I slogged back upstairs an hour later, they were huddled together laughing while she rested her head against his shoulder.

  “Anna,” a familiar voice said behind me.

  I spun around to find Alain hanging over my right shoulder like an angel. Or devil. “I thought I saw you haunting the opera house.”

  “I would have requested a dance but was unsure if you would accept or hex me,” Alain said.

  “Four years ago, neither would I.”

  “And now?”

  I took a deep breath and sighed. “Thank you,” I said reluctantly. “Truly. You stopped me from making a horrible mistake. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking that night.”

  “Thinking never factored into it. But all’s well that ends well. At least from your perspective.”

  “Oh, don’t start that again. A hex is still in the cards.” We both smiled. “Your fears were unfounded though. He treats me like a princess. We’re blissfully, madly in love.”

  “Are you now?” He nodded behind me. I glanced back to see that slag laughing so hard she doubled over, resting her forehead on Asher’s legs as he just sniggered back at her theatrics. “She was always an amazing hunter, our Christine. She instinctively knows the perfect time and the perfect bait with which to strike. Ruthless. Manipulative. Patient. She is a credit to our kind.” He gazed into my eyes. “You do not stand a chance, little girl.”

  “She’s no threat. Let her have her fun tonight. We’re going home tomorrow.”

  Alain chuckled. “Do not underestimate the power of shared history, long-term affection, and good old-fashioned ego stroking hero worship, Anna. Remember, she claimed him first. No matter how long the lifespan, habit is habit. She is his worst. Like a dormant disease, she rears her ugly head and wreaks havoc, leaving naught but death and misery in her wake. Though if it makes you feel better, if she has chosen now to resurface, she must view you as a true threat for his long-term affection. She is 3 for 0 though. Cordelia, Jane, and Olivia all stood where you are now and proclaimed the same. That he only loved them. That the love they shared was enough to conquer all, including Asher’s corrupted soul itself. But Christine, she brings out the true Asher and she knows it. It may take a week, it may take a decade, but that woman will find a way to ingratiate herself into your lives and decay it from the inside out.”

  “Well, I won’t let her,” I said with utter certainty.

  “I admire your spirit. I do. But at the end of the night, Anna, it may have precious little to do with you. You cannot change him, or what he is at his core. Despite what the fairy tales may want you to believe, love does not move mountains. It does not magically change a person into something they are not. And no matter how much two people love one another, sometimes that is not enough. Nowhere near enough. And the sooner one realizes that, the sooner their life can truly begin. I only hope for your sake when the revelation comes, our Asher can accept it as well. Otherwise, may you find the strength to survive all the hell he throws at you. And it will be nothing short of hell. I do not envy your odds, though. So please listen to my words this night. Run far. Run fast. And never look back.” He took my hand and kissed the top of it like a gentleman. “It was lovely to see you again. Truly. Though I hope for your sake it is the last time.”

  Alain gave me a reverent nod before strolling away. Like four years before, he left fear and uncertainty in his wake. Sometimes that’s all it takes. One bad seed planted to ruin the entire crop—one conversation with an almost total stranger to completely change your outlook on all you believed you knew. I stared at my soul mate with her. The casual way they touched. The loose posture. The ease of his smile completely in line with hers. Their intimacy as if there was no one else in the room. It sickened me. Worse, it scared the hell out of me.

  “There you are,” Asher said only when I moved right in front of him.

  “Yes, we had given you up for lost,” Christine added with a faux sweet grin.

  “No such luck. Sorry,” I said, matching her expression. I turned to Asher. “I’m exhausted. It’s time to go home.”

  “No,” Christine whined. “The night is still so young, and we haven’t finished catching up. She is a big girl. I am sure she can get herself home. Or we can continue this back at your suite.”

  “No,” I snapped. I really was exhausted. “If you want, you can stay here with your … friend. I’ll be fine alone. I won’t wait up.” With one final glare for the interloper, I stalked away before I accidently set her on fire with a nearby candle. I should have.

  “Anna, wait!” Asher called after me. He caught me halfway down the stairs, grabbing my arm and spinning me around. “What is the matter now? You are acting like a spoilt child and embarrassing me. We spoke about this.”

  “We did, but that was before you spent all night ignoring me and fawning over a woman who clearly hates me and wants to return to your already occupied bed. And from where I was standing, you were all but pulling back the sheets for her. Hell, maybe you two already found some corner and made up for lost time. Maybe that whole speech about me giving you space was planned because you knew she was coming and wanted me out of the way.”

  “Now you are purposely being cruel,” he sneered back.

  “Well, you didn’t seem to mind when she was doing the same to me,” I countered.

  “Christine is one of my oldest, dearest friends. My sister. She has been by my side at my worst moments, and I have not seen or spoken to her in close to a decade. I have sacrificed a great deal for you, Anna. You can survive one night where you are not my sole bloody focus!”

  “Is all well?” Christine called as she descended the stairs.

  “Of course,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

  “Everything is fine,” Asher said none-too-convincingly.

  “No, it is not. Asher, I fear this is all my doing. The last thing I desire is to be the cause of any strife between you two.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet,” I said with a scowl.

  “Anna,” Asher snapped.

  “Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot,” Christine said, batting those gorgeous eyelashes of hers. “I was being a bit cheeky with you, and for that I do apologize. I simply could not help myself. I am incredibly protective of those I love, as I am sure you are. I do not wish to see our Asher hurt again. He barely survived his past losses.” Without her that is. “But I see now there is deep, abiding love between you both. He spent the entire night speaking of barely any topic other than you. It is as if I know you already,” she chuckled. “So I hope you will forgive tonight’s bad behavior, and we can begin anew. It would mean a lot to me, and I know it would mean the world to our Asher.” She extended her hand. “Friends?”

  Alain was right. She was good. Damn good. And Asher bought every word. Every single one. What other choice did I have? I plastered a smile on my face and shook her hand. “Friends.”

  And just like that the dream was over. The nights of blood and roses had come to an end. I never could have foretold where the new path would take me. Or that I would lose everything along the way. Including myself.

  AGE 19

  WASHINGTON, DC

  UGH. THE RINGING TELEPHONE drew me out of my only oasis in the world, the sweet nothingness of slumber. Oh, how I wished I could stay in the nothing instead of waking beside an equally naked man, my body covered in br
uises and dried blood. Sadly a common occurrence in recent months. How on earth did I end up naked in Oliver’s bed? I managed to extract myself from the beautiful, cold almost corpse to answer the phone on the nightstand.

  “Hello,” I asked groggily.

  “Ms. Asher, this is the front desk. There is a Special Agent Nathan West of the F.R.E.A.K.S. here to interview you.”

  “Who? What?”

  “It’s about last night’s murders. Lord Peter has ordered all within his territory to cooperate fully with the investigation. I’m sending the agent up now.”

  “Uh, okay.” I hung up the phone with a sigh. I was in no shape for company, let alone one with questions, but the law was the law. Peter said jump, we weren’t even allowed to ask how high. There was barely time to brush my teeth and slip on a robe before the knock on my suite door. It was near pitch black with the special shutters drawn so I added to my bruise collection before I found a light. “Coming!”

  When I opened the door to the agent, I literally took his breath away. Just not in the usual, romantic way. Oh how I wished I’d at least taken the time to wash off the blood on my neck or brushed my hair. Not that I really cared a fig what the agent in the hallway thought. He was cute in a disheveled professor way, all spindly legs and arms in a rumpled too-short suit. His medium brown hair was as unruly with bangs in need of a cut, round rosy cheeks, and bushy thick eyebrows. Even his silver-framed glasses were crooked. “A-Anna Asher?” he asked with a Texas drawl.

  “You the freak?”

  “Um, yes. Sp-special Agent Nathan West,” he said, pulling out his badge and an envelope. “May I come in?”