The Witch and the Werewolf Read online

  She was keenly aware of his unhappiness with the situation, but after extensive research she’d come to the conclusion that this was the only thing she could do to help Seff without having access to the Witch who cursed him.

  She’d tried the basics already. She bathed him in herbs, bled him, questioned the runes, cast numerous counter spells, fed him potions, she even tried scrying for the Witch with crystals, but to no avail. She, the Morrigan, was at a loss.

  There was one thing left for her to do. It was tricky and, it broke more than one rule. What’s more, she’d need the help of someone she could trust. Her hands itched to take action, but she needed patience.

  She needed to cast her own spell, one strong enough to tap into Seff’s consciousness. Once there, she could possibly give him the strength he needed to fight and possibly wake. One way to find out.

  It was risky, especially for her. But, it was a risk she was willing to take. How could she not? He was the only man she had ever truly cared about. It was time she admitted it even if only to herself.

  She was confident of the outcome, but what worried her was his reaction afterwards. If she pulled this off, they would be bound together. Would he be able to handle that?

  She bit her lip as she weighed the consequences in her mind. It was an unavoidable side effect of the magic needed to wake him. And he needed to wake sooner rather than later. With each passing moment, Seff was fading. His Wolf was dying.

  Sure, she wondered how he would feel about being bound to her and about her having used magic to save him, but she had no choice. She would do what she had to to keep him alive and she’d worry about the consequences later.

  “Will it work?”

  “Yes. But just in case of complications, I have called for reinforcements. Ah, there he is, let him in,” Sherry pointed to a raven that flapped its great, black wings just outside the window of Seff’s bedroom.

  “What the fuck? How did he get there without setting off alarms?”

  “Really Liam, what birds do you know set off alarms?”

  “That’s no bird!”

  “Very good. Yes, that is not a bird, now open the window, please.”

  “Is it a Witch? How? Witches can’t shift?”

  “Not true shifters, but some Witches are blessed with spirit animals, I myself have no animal, but I can sometimes travel in the shape of a weeping willow seedling. But he is a friend, Liam. Please, let him in.”

  “I should call Rafe-”

  “You are wasting time!” She felt magic glow in her eyes as she raised her voice to the pup.

  The young Wolf growled his displeasure, but after hearing a whimper from his brother’s still form he acquiesced. The raven flew into the room, but where the bird had landed, there was suddenly a tall, slender man in dark clothing.

  “You called me to this place, Sherry?”

  “Vasco,” she nodded.

  After a brief explanation she told him why she summoned him. To say he was upset was putting it mildly. Still, she’d expected the outburst from her longtime friend and colleague.

  “Are you completely mad now, Sherry?” he wailed and paced as he pulled on his black hair.

  “You’ll be penalized! You know this!”

  “Vasco, will you help me?”

  Once upon a time she thought to mate with the Witch, but they proved better as friends than lovers. Still, she knew he cared about her and, although it might’ve seemed cruel to anyone looking at it from the outside, she called on him because she trusted him. A higher compliment she couldn’t have paid him.

  “Well?” she asked watching the play of emotions over his hawkish features.

  “Are you certain? The Covens will go fucking berserk, Sherry! If you do this, you may never find yourself mated! How then do you propose to pass on your talents? They won’t stand for it!”

  “I should have never told you of their foolish demands! But that is not the point. Vasco, it is the only way I know to bring him back. Please, help me,” she begged.

  There were many things her colleague and childhood friend could resist, a blatant plea for help was not one of them. He was her one confidant.

  After she’d foolishly given her heart to the Werewolf in question, who was it that came to her aid? Vasco. He had listened while she cried. He’d aided her when she buried herself in work. He was, in all things, her friend. She trusted him.

  “Oh, come now, Shereen, you’re still a fool for this dog then?”

  “Watch it!” growled Liam who, up until then, had been taking in the byplay without comment.

  “Guess I’d best set up the protection then. Save me from foolish women,” Vasco ignored the young Wolf and grumbled as he went about his work.

  Sherry wiped the tear that struggled to come out and smiled. Here now, I have friends yet.

  He was not wrong. Sherry was taking a huge risk. One Seff might not like. Sherry slipped out of the robe she wore over her simple, light cotton gown.

  She needed to be free of the excesses of the modern world for this to work. The cotton was undyed, organically grown, and woven by hand. It was imbued with magical spells handed down from the female Witches of her line. She rarely donned the rare garment. Vasco sucked in a breath upon seeing it.

  “By the goddess, Shereen, you look just like your grandmother,” he bowed his head in reverence and looked away quickly. He continued to place protective crystals about the room.

  Sherry understood and appreciated the respect he paid her. She did not answer, as he knew she wouldn’t. She needed a clear mind to concentrate on preparing herself.

  She took off her many bangles and rings and placed them in a silver bowl. Next, she freed her long hair until it curled in a riot of hues from the darkest brown to the palest blonde and all shades of red in between. The thick mass of hair reached all the way down her slender back to curl around her hips.

  She rarely wore the mass down and felt power flow freely through the strands. It swirled and lifted on its own.

  She exhaled as she relished the tingle of magic as it swept through her less encumbered body. Each piece of jewelry and clothing she wore acted as blocks or funnels for her talents.

  Free of them, her power simply flowed. It was heady and dangerous, but she knew what to expect and braced herself for the impulse to wield magic without consequence when it came.

  She ignored the seductive voices whispering to her, demanding she use her powers to free them, to join them. Instead, she focused her breathing and kicked off her flats.

  Darkness and light struggled for power in the room. So much of it flowed through her. Sherry allowed herself to enjoy it only briefly.

  All the magic in the universe was there. Parts of it revealed itself slowly to her eyes and she watched, willing it to show her the way to reach Seff.

  She was aware of Liam, who stood in the back of the room, quietly intent on her, ready to act should he suspect her of hurting his brother. She could almost laugh at that. As if she could ever hurt Seff.

  She was also aware of Vasco. He walked silently to each corner, placing several small crystals as he moved about the large bedroom. Seff’s bedroom.

  A moment of wrongness passed through her when she observed her friend. She quelled what was surely regret and began to access the magic in front of her.

  Sherry did not speak to either of the two men. She’d best forget they were there.

  Yes. Focus, child. The whisper-soft voice of her grandmere spoke to her as she exhaled the breath she’d taken.

  Help me in my effort to save him, mamie, she thought. The ghosts of those who passed were always there and, sometimes, they were eager to help. This she knew for a fact. Her grandmere would have known the danger she faced. She is here to aid me.

  Sherry felt the power of her magic pulse through her veins. She was no novice. This battle would be a long one. And deadly too. But she had to try.

  “What now?” Liam asked, but she ignored his query.

  Her eyes and
words were for Seff alone. She approached the bed and took a place next to him, lying down with her head by his feet. Mirroring his position, she closed her eyes and spoke to the magic that pulsed all around her.

  Ignoring the seeking tendrils of darkness that swarmed all over Seff, she choked down her fear for his safety and called upon her talents.

  “Deffro fy rhyfelwr, deffro fy blaidd, dewch yn ôl ataf,” she chanted over and over again. Wake up my warrior, wake up my Wolf, come back to me, her cast spoken directly to the man and his beast, a command for him to obey.

  He shuddered and cried out. Sherry cringed and gasped as she felt the Darkness which kept him trapped tighten. It choked him as she cast again to go around the magic that had frozen him inside his mind.

  “Wake up, Seff, come to me now. Leave the prison of your mind and join me here,” using her mind to speak to him, Sherry repeated her chant in English.

  She could not control the spell of another, that was not how magic worked. But time was running out and she could not wait for the Wolves to find the Witch responsible. She had to appeal to Seff directly.

  She had to place a bond on him. He would not be happy, but it was the only way. A direct link between the two of them would bring him back to their plane of reality.

  “With my will I bridge your life force to mine, with this vow, I take a piece of you into me, and give in turn a piece of me to set you free, tis my pledge, by my honor we are linked, trapped within no longer, out now to be stronger, as I will so mote it be,” she switched from English to Welsh to Ancient Greek and even Russian in her casting. There was nothing like truly putting forth your best efforts.

  Heat poured into her. She felt sweat pool down her spine, soaking the cotton of her gown. Then came a bitter, icy chill that had her speaking through chattering teeth.

  She’d prepared for this, but still, the change from hot to cold and back again was creating havoc within her earthly body. There was something nagging at her, something familiar about the magic she was battling. If only she could put her finger on it.

  Sherry gasped as she felt her cast waver. No, better leave it for now. She could not afford to lapse in her concentration and so she ignored it.

  She gasped again as heat scored her flesh. Magic sometimes asked for concessions that non-magic folk could not comprehend. It was all about balance and willingness. And yes, Sherry was willing to go through any amount of pain to bring Seff back to the realm of man, a little fever or chill was well worth it.

  The amount of magic she was expending was great and it was paying off. The darkness was starting to relent. She could see the inky tendrils that surrounded Seff weaken, but that damned break between him and Wolf was still there. Nothing she vowed or spoke could mend the bond with man and beast.

  She gasped and cringed when the pain of the separation cut into her heart like a blade. But before she lost her grip entirely, she reached him. Golden tendrils of her magic spiraled between them, binding them tightly together.

  Sherry sighed with contentment, not fear, as she felt Seff enter her mind and heart, as never before.

  She cast back the dark magic that dared trap him. She felt the curse that caged the man crumble before her will. Success! He is safe! But his Wolf...

  Suddenly, Seff sprang up from his prone position. His golden-brown eyes flew to Sherry and he blinked as if trying to clear his head.

  “What the hell did you do to me?”

  CHAPTER 5

  SEFF GRUNTED AND GROANED as he used more strength than he should have needed to sit upright. Where am I? He opened one eye cautiously and took in his surroundings. My sheets, my bed, but how?

  Pain shot through the left side of his head. He groaned and pressed his palm to his eye hoping to dampen it, but it didn’t help in the least. Anybody get the license of the truck that hit me? Fuck, that hurts!

  He tried getting up, but his legs weren’t listening to his brain. The fuck is going on? The pounding in his head was nothing compared to the underlying weakness of his body.

  Something had happened to him. Something bad. But fuck him, if he could recall whatever it was that left him weak as a normal.

  He closed his eyes to try and jog his memory. One thing struck him as more than probable. Seff wanted to howl in rage. Magic. He’d been bespelled by some Witch or Warlock or something! Dammit!

  He tried to free the memory that swam just beneath the surface of his consciousness, but it was no use. He had no fucking idea what had happened to him. He only knew one thing, Seff was alone in this. Where is my Wolf?

  Fear made him tremble as he tried to stem his rising anxiety. He couldn’t allow himself to give in to the wave of panic that threatened to drown him. You’re the Pack Beta. Calm the fuck down. But it was an impossible ask. Anything could have happened when he was under.

  The absence of his memory meant trouble. The acrid taste of terror filled his mouth causing him to gag, but Seff forced himself to swallow. He’d suffered worse in battle, he could handle this.

  He inhaled. The familiar smell of ozone crept into his nostrils. Fuck! There was no denying it. Someone had cast a spell on him.

  Seff tried to recall who had attacked him, but he remembered nothing of the person who cursed him. He did, however, remember calling out to the woman who’d haunted him all these years. Sherry.

  Shit. He must be really hurt because he swore it was her lightly accented voice that had called him back from his own private version of hell. Sherry.

  Warmth spread through his cold limbs at the thought that she still cared for him. Stupid dream. But wait, he inhaled deeply. The scent of cinnamon and spice drifted into his nostrils. Hell, he tasted it on his tongue too. As if she were there, with him. That couldn’t be right, could it? He opened his eyes and pinched himself hard.

  Sherry was lying in his bed, rumpled yet beautiful as always. Sweat clung to her forehead as she smiled at him, relief evident on her pale face.

  “What the hell did you do to me?” He wished he could’ve stopped the words, but they tumbled unabashedly from his lips. Something had just gone down and he needed to know what.

  He felt her in his blood, tasted her on his lips, but what, when, where? How did the woman who wouldn’t even return his phone calls come to be at his side? In his bedroom?

  No, this isn’t right. He didn’t call Sherry. He’d had no plans to meet her. He’d gone out, yes, but not with her. Who then? Wait, held his palm up to his left eye as he tried to force himself to remember.

  Pain exploded in his head and he growled as he pushed through it to reveal his last memory. He’d gone out with Charley! That was it! They went for a drive when they got a flat and, when he went to see about it, something attacked him.

  He growled deep in his throat as anger came rushing through his veins, but something was wrong. Usually his Wolf took over when Seff’s temper became roused. The fuck? Where was his Wolf?

  “Agh,” he groaned and almost collapsed back down on the bed as he sought within himself for his other half. Panic, the full-blown kind, set in as he tried again and again to confer with his beast.

  His Wolf, who had been coming to him all the more quickly now that his kind were almost free, was not answering, he could not feel him. No!

  “What’s the matter with me?!” Was that him? That weak hoarse sound? Pathetic!

  His eyes met her sometimes-hazel ones. Seff gulped in air as he read the understanding in them. Trapped in her stunning gaze, Seff wasn’t at all shocked when her eyes shifted from greenish blue to glittering gold, and finally, to a deep brown that simmered like molten chocolate as they looked over his face.

  She wore a simple gown, her glorious hair curled around her face in a riot of reds and golds, her lips were slightly parted and perspiration beaded on her pale skin as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Seff,” she smiled as she breathed his name.

  She tried to sit up, but some hidden weakness stole her strength. Seff lunged forward to help. He was a ta
d slower than he was used to, but he managed to catch her before she toppled off his bed. The sheet covering him dropped to below his waist, but he was more than comfortable with nudity. Werewolves often were.

  Besides, this was Sherry. My Sherry. He cradled her against his naked chest and tried to clear out the fog that once again clouded his brain. That and the fact that she always did wipe every thought he had right out of his head whenever he’d held her close only added to his addled state.

  She smelled so good. Mmm. He inhaled her scent deeply. Like some heavenly combination of cinnamon and spice and fresh apples. Sort of like apple pie, but like, to the tenth power.

  Sweetest fucking pie I ever had. How long had it been since he held her this close? Too damned long in his humble opinion.

  “Oh, my word, that took more from me than I thought it would,” she murmured against his skin.

  Her soft breath tickled his bare chest, but she didn’t seem in a rush to move. Inside, he preened at that small revelation.

  “What, um, what are you doing here?”

  “Well, I brought you back, of course,” her eyes were dilated as she looked up at him.

  Seff frowned. She looked pale. Her soft, ivory hands reached up and she ran her fingers from his brow, down his jawline, to his firm lips. He kissed the tips and she trembled in his arms. Seff’s nostrils flared.

  He may have forgotten a lot about what had recently happened to him, but he would never forget how good Sherry felt and tasted in his arms. It’s been too long.

  “Sherry,” a husky voice he barely recognized as his own reached his ears as he lowered his head, greedy to taste her soft pink lips. The door slammed open, snapping them both out of it.

  A strange man burst into Seff’s room and he reacted predictably. He dropped Sherry gently to the bed and, naked or not, he sprang to his feet and had the intruder by the throat before either of them could blink. Whether his Wolf was speaking to him or not, Seff was still fast and strong, if a little bit wobbly.