The Witch and the Werewolf Read online

  A Witch was born with Magic, it could also be inherited, freely given, and in some cases, stolen. Sherry had a very large store of magic herself, more than most Covens combined, but she kept it very well hidden. It would not do for the Elders Trust to know the extent of her powers.

  Still, her history was widely renowned, and the Covens now demanded she ensure the passing on of her gifts. It was the reason she was doing so much mediation lately. Drat it. She’d almost forgotten the deadline they had given her.

  She had managed to keep them at bay the last few decades with promises that she was searching for her mate, but that didn’t stop them from sending yet another demand that she choose a mate and beget an heir by the next cycle of the moon. As if she were some brood mare! The fools!

  She pushed her impending deadline as far from her mind as she could. The only man she’d ever loved needed her. She needed to focus on Seff and to stop whatever it was that dared to hurt him.

  Whoever the transgressor was, he had no idea what she could do once she found him. First, she had a Wolf to tend to.

  “Ewch â mi ato.” Her voice reverberated around the room as a large oval shaped portal began to shift in front of her. Sherry exhaled and stepped through to aid the one who’d left her with a broken heart. Too late to turn back now.

  Sherry was on her way. To Seff.

  CHAPTER 3

  “MS. MORGAN, I AM SHOCKED to see you,” Rafe Maccon extended a hand to her. The fact that she had appeared in his study just as he opened the door was not lost on him.

  She was extremely powerful. Almost to the point where he should be worried, but she was a friend. Or so he hoped.

  “Where is he? I must see him,” she didn’t have time to waste on formalities. She let go of his fingers and walked past him to the hallway.

  “He is in the medical wing, come this way,” the immense Wolf led the way, undisturbed by her forthright manner. He felt Sherry bristle behind him as she followed.

  Impatience had her lips pulling downward in a frown. Still, she knew better than to try and skirt around the Alpha. She was not often intimidated by size, but if anyone could manage to do so, it was the Werewolf in front of her.

  Rafe gave the word big a whole new definition. Sherry preferred her men a little more manageable in size. Lean and lithe. Like a certain Pack Beta. She only hoped she’d get to admire the man again even if only from afar. I hope I’m not too late.

  Something tickled her senses. The atmosphere of the Macconwood Manor was charged with energy. Not all of it good. Sherry gasped as she realized there was more to this than Seff being attacked on Pack property. Blood tinged the air. Magic too. Dark magic. She scowled at the bitter taste of it.

  “I see you have had more trouble than just Seff tonight? And you did not call me?”

  “Yes, well, a lot has happened. You would have been my next call, but you beat me to it.”

  “I see,” she waited for him to continue.

  “Earlier this evening, my mate was kidnapped and Seff was attacked-”

  “How is Charley now?” She gasped at first, then remembered herself enough to ask after Rafe’s wife.

  As a normal, she should have been excluded from attack, but this crime was initiated by one without honor. One I will dismember should Seff be harmed beyond my skills.

  She could hardly stop the violent turn of her thoughts. Seff may have left her, but not before she imprinted on the man. Her heart squeezed inside her chest, it had been a decade since she’d admitted as much, even if only to herself. I still love him.

  “Thank you for your concern, Ms. Morgan, but I found her and eliminated the threat.”

  “I take it the threat to your wife is not something we shall hear from again?” She shook herself from her reverie to ask the question.

  He studied her quietly for a brief moment, but in the end, he nodded his head. Sherry understood. Some would not approve of the shedding of blood, but she was raised in the old ways. Sometimes violence was the only end.

  “Do not worry, Rafe, I find no fault in your actions, you were right to defend what is yours. Is Charley well then?”

  “She is as are our children?”

  “More than one? Delivered safely?”

  “Yes, by the side of the road. That amazing woman of mine delivered three healthy young! Two lively boys and a precious daughter!”

  “Many congratulations to you both. What of Seff? Do you know what happened?” She kept her voice calm, but on the inside, she was anything but.

  “Before his demise, our enemy, Skoll, said he had a Dark Witch perform some sort of spell or potion on Seff. We don’t know what it was, and we can’t wake him with medicine or through our Pack bonds. He has been unresponsive and remains unreachable.”

  Sherry gasped and missed a step, but strong hands reached her before she stumbled. She looked at Rafe and saw the concern in his gaze. Unreachable?

  “I know you have made strides, Rafe, to trust Witches. I assure you, regardless of the past, I would never harm Seff. Not him or anyone else, less they harm me or mine.”

  “I believe you, Ms. Morgan. It’s the only reason why you’re still here. Come this way,” he opened the door to a pristine hallway that led to a series of rooms that would have looked perfect in any hospital.

  Sherry breathed in the antiseptic. Beneath the strong scent, there was one scent she recognized. Tears pricked her eyes, but she quelled them. This was no time for hysterics.

  She walked through the door of the nearest room and saw a short brunette, a Wolf, bent over Seff. She couldn’t help the flash of jealousy that made her reddish gold hair swirl angrily around her shoulders.

  That sort of thing happened whenever she was riled or about to do magic. She closed her eyes and counted to ten before joining the woman who was talking to Rafe and looking at a tablet at the same time. She was a doctor, her interest in Seff purely scientific. That’s good.

  “There has been no change, sir.”

  “Thanks, doc. You can go now.”

  “But-”

  “I am afraid this is beyond medical science,” Sherry’s voice was shaky.

  She dismissed the Wolf doctor and walked to the prone figure lying still as death in the hospital bed. Oh Seff. He looked deathly pale. His cheeks appeared gaunt, his breathing raspy.

  He looked alien with all the tubes and monitors attached to him. Sherry frowned and began peeling them off.

  “Hey, you can’t do that-”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “Those tubes are necessary-” the petite doctor interrupted again, but Sherry shot her a warning look.

  “These are not helping and will make it only more difficult to get a true reading. All this, these electronics must go, now,” she said.

  The doctor held onto the one that was forcing oxygen into Seff’s nostrils and Sherry rolled her eyes. She had no time for this. She waved her hand, agitated beyond reason, and the small Wolf was flung to the side as plugs and tubes detached themselves from Seff’s prone body.

  Oops, she’d cast too much into that little spell as plugs came out of electric sockets and machines flew across the room. The tubes closest to him wound themselves back up and the IV currently attached to Seff withdrew its needle and scurried away from the bed.

  “What the-”

  “You can go now, doctor,” Rafe said and looked at Sherry with narrowed eyes.

  “Yes, sir,” the she-Wolf growled and left the room.

  “You will see that he recovers?” Rafe asked.

  “I will do my best to bring you back your Beta,”

  “Seff is more than that, he is Pack, he is family.”

  “Yes, I know.” It is why he left me.

  “I need him moved someplace that is his.”

  “It will be done as you say, but I don’t have to tell you to be cautious,” he growled the last and she could see his Wolf in his eyes.

  “I vow here and now, Rafe Maccon, that I am a friend to Seff McAllister, regardl
ess of our past, no harm will come to him by my hand,” the magic imbued in her words shook the room slightly, but the Alpha seemed appeased by the gesture.

  And that was how Sherry Morgan found herself safely ensconced in Seff’s wing in the rather remarkable Macconwood Manor.

  The place was a veritable fortress. A huge, stone structure with the best possible security measures from the outside. Inside, the place was immaculately cleaned and built to last.

  The furniture sturdy, the floors highly polished, and every room spacious. Each of the Wolf Guard seemed to have his or her own wing or lair as Shery thought of them. With the exception of the Nighthawks, who lived in an outlying guesthouse.

  Seff’s wing was much like the man himself. It had a reserved, yet classy style to it. Modern technology blended fluidly with the sturdy leather and solid wood furniture. He preferred clean lines and an uncluttered look. Except for the living room area where books, hundreds of them, lined the many shelves.

  There was no television in sight, and she smiled, recalling how he preferred to read or talk to watching shows or movies during their brief time as a couple. A beautiful chess board sat in one corner.

  It was carved from the finest mahogany and lovingly cared for, she could tell from the lack of dust on each of the gilded pieces, they were Wolves versus Dragons. Nice.

  The palette was very masculine, but still somewhat sedate. Something she would have scrunched her nose at. She preferred vivid colors to the dull grays and beiges. She could imagine adding a plush throw rug with deep maroon hues and a gold and blue blanket for the couch with accent pillows in all three colors. Some curtains, a few candles here and there, it would be lovely. Not that she would be doing any of that.

  This place is not yours. He is not yours. Well, no duh, stupid inner monologue. She was all too aware that the Wolf in question was not hers. No matter. She was bound by her vow to help him and she would.

  Sherry entered the bedroom and sucked in a breath. It smelled like him, a combination of the masculine soap he preferred and the subtle scent of fresh cut spearmint that she’d always associated with him. Delicious in tea or on the tongue. Especially after dinner. Yum. No, bad girl.

  She looked over her charge who was now lying comfortably in his own bed, the clinical hospital gown removed, but his modesty still preserved under a crisp white sheet. Of course, the sheets are white. She’d prefer printed or some flamboyant shade of orange or yellow.

  Anyway, she sat at the foot of the bed, not quite touching him, but close enough for her to get a reading on the type of cast that had him locked under its spell. This part of her talent was highly developed over the years as she tended to flock from Coven to Coven when and where her services were needed.

  Sherry was a healer, a trainer, and so much more. The Morganna Witches wore many hats and, she had tried them all. Healing and teaching were her true callings and Sherry preferred to do both, unobserved.

  She frowned as she became aware of the presence lurking just outside the bedroom. The pacing back and forth of Seff’s younger brother Liam was pronounced in the quiet quarters. She concentrated hard, tuning him out.

  It was almost easy after living above her latest entrepreneurial endeavor, most recently named Hair and There. The beauty salon offered treatments to all beings, normals and supernaturals. That said, her employees were a rowdy bunch of young supes and they loved to blast all sorts of music during the working day which went from nine in the morning to nine at night, except for Saturdays when the remained open till eleven.

  It was easy to minister to people under the guise of offering beauty treatments. How many times had she discovered a skin lesion on a normal and washed it away with an elixir? How many times had she eased a broken limb or sprained muscle? Not to mention those cursed or afflicted by a cast gone awry. Sherry enjoyed her work. She always had.

  She bit her lip as worry welled up inside of her. This time it was different. This time she had a vested interest in the outcome of her craft. She exhaled and pushed away all her thoughts and fears. There was only one way to trace the spell the Dark Witch had cast. She’d have to get a reading first then proceed from there.

  Sherry closed her eyes and sat cross-legged on the exceedingly comfortable mattress. She let the scent of Seff and the sound of his steady breathing wash over her. He was here. With her. Safe, but not out of danger. Yet.

  She furrowed her eyebrows and focused on the smoky black tendrils of dark magic that circled his immobile frame. Caught in the web of the evil spell, his Wolf had been cut off from his body, leaving his human side to deal with the effects of the cast.

  Sherry went deeper into the mind of the man, touching the edges of his consciousness with the lightness of a butterfly’s wings. She could have cried for the agony Seff was in. All of it endured in tortured silence.

  It tore at her heart to witness the man struggle so desperately under the dark weight of the spell. He cried out again and again to release his Wolf, but it was to no avail.

  He could not break through the magic. Sherry, just a visitor in this sense, was powerless to help him. But not for long. Her fierce determination was a plus on his side. She pulled herself carefully from the plane where his consciousness dwelled and opened her eyes not surprised to find tears there.

  Sherry never understood the temptation others spoke of when they turned to the Dark. What pleasure could be derived from such evil casting? It truly boggled the mind.

  Dark Witches were pawns in her eyes. Used by the Demons and magics they tried to control, but they were never the ones in power. Why could they not see that?

  Like addicts, they concentrated on their next fix, but failed to see they were simply pawns of the substance they coveted most. In this case, power and greed.

  She looked across the bed at the pale image of Seff, his skin almost the same shade as the pristine sheets that covered his bed. I will not let him struggle alone.

  She would find a way to fight.

  CHAPTER 4

  SEEKING ANSWERS, SHERRY sat on the turquoise and gold mediation rug that she’d pulled from her canvas bag. She rolled it onto the bare floor in the living room of Seff’s quarters.

  Her solitude was disrupted by the invasion of Liam, Conall, Kurt, and Dib. The Werewolves would normally crowd the smallish room, but in deference to her, they attempted to curb their natural physicality by being still. They filled the seats surrounding the room and waited for her to speak.

  She knew better than to use her magic blatantly in front of them, but still, a girl needed her tea. She rose as the electric kettle she had plugged in began to whistle and poured the boiling water over one of her special blends designed to open the senses and replenish the soul. She waited as the tea steeped.

  “So, what have you found?” Kurt spoke up first. The red-headed giant was the more easy-going of the two identical twins. Dib, his brother, simply grunted and waited with narrowed eyes.

  “Would you like some tea?”

  “No, thank you. We don’t have time for niceties, Ms. Morgan, now about Seff?”

  “Seff has been bespelled by a Dark practitioner. That you already know, but I am afraid his condition is truly dire. You see, the spell has cut him off from his Wolf. His human side tries to free the beast, but he is weakening at an alarming rate. It is a sort of double attack, while his Wolf is jailed, his human half is being drained of his life force.”

  “But how is that possible?”

  “Anything is possible. I do, however, agree that this is beyond the talents of most Dark practitioners. If you can locate the Witch who created this odious spell, then I would of course be able to end it swiftly. However, without more to go on, I must try other means to free him,” she poured tea into a clear mug as she spoke, setting a cinnamon stick to stir as she resumed her seat.

  “Will you try?” Liam asked, his voice held a bit of a whine and Sherry couldn’t help but feel for the young man.

  “I will not leave him until he is able to tell
me to go himself.” Like he did once not so long ago.

  “Thank you,” she heard the words, but it was his Wolf, the Wolf of Seff’s brother who whined with worry, that softened her towards him.

  “I will do all I can. I swear it. Now, I have a list of things I will need. Can someone get me these items?” She nodded her head and a small index card with the various things she needed printed on it, floated through the air towards the men.

  “Yes, I’ll go,” Conall plucked the card from the air without any hesitation.

  “Thank you. Also, I need one of you to also give my report to Rafe. He is with his family and I am not prepared to leave Seff until he is awake.”

  “He will wake then?” Again, the question from Liam who seemed so young and so very angry. In fact, he seemed angry with her. Sherry grimaced, not that she could really blame him.

  He’d been taught to hate Witches to distrust all magic. If only he knew how much magic is in him. All Shifters were part of the magic of the universe. How else could you explain two beings inhabiting one body? Then there was Pack magic, the special bonds that allowed Packmates to sense and sometimes communicate with one another.

  “Of course, young one, I will stake my life on it,” Sherry sighed her response. She nodded her head at the younger version of Seff.

  A few days later...

  Seff still remained unconscious and Sherry’s normally positive attitude had somewhat diminished. Liam was openly growling his frustration at her and the Alpha was not around to rein him in, busy as he was with his new family. Never mind, she could handle one pup.

  “Light the candles,” she commanded. Candles served many purposes in casting. They acted as representatives of the four elements, and sometimes God or the gods, depending on one’s beliefs. They also increased the power of A Witch’s spells. They were used to channel magic, and sometimes they even helped open doorways of communication.

  Sherry used candles often when casting. It was one of the few material items she relied upon in her craft. She was pleased she didn’t have to ask twice. The pup may not like her, but still, Liam walked around the room and did as she’d commanded.