She looked at his profile. He was a truly handsome man. She loved the sharpness of his cheekbones and the dimple in his chin. She tried to will herself into sexual interest but when she thought of them in bed together she wanted to laugh. Surely not a good sign.
Thing was, she’d dreamed of one man her whole life. He was tall and broad with the chest and arms of a warrior. He had golden skin and hair that wasn’t quite blond, wasn’t quite brown with a bit of copper thrown in. It was long and flowing with braids at his temples and he had eyes that were gold, sometimes the color of whiskey. He’d taken her in every way imaginable and a few she’d never even thought of.
Thinking of her dream man had made her achy and her panties wet. He was the star of every sexual fantasy she’d ever had—she’d never had an orgasm without his face on her mind. She sighed wistfully and shifted her attention back to the present.
As they moved closer to the stage at the end of the Plaza to hear the jazz band, she bumped into someone and looked up, smiling. “Excuse me,” she called out with a laugh. It wasn’t like you didn’t run into a hundred people on a day like Lundi Gras.
A pair of blue-gray eyes blinked down at her, mischief twinkling in them. “Of course,” he said with a slight accent. Irish, she thought. He winked and kept on moving and she couldn’t resist a quick look over her shoulder at his retreating form. He had quite a nice behind. She smiled and turned back to the stage.
Con kept his sexy smile as he walked away. He knew he shouldn’t have come close to her, she was a witch after all, but he had to touch her, smell her, have her look at him. After seeing her daily for the last three months he’d become fascinated with Emily Charvez. More than fascinated—he lusted after her like a panting dog. There was something about her sweet manner, her genuineness that touched him, turned him on.
He’d watched her as she worked in her family’s magic shop, watched her cook dinner in her tiny apartment, followed her as she browsed the French Market and the shops for spices and oils. He was enamored of the way she went to Café Du Monde every Friday morning and had a café au lait and three beignets. He remembered the first time he’d watched as she licked the powdered sugar from her bottom lip. She had a nearly feline sensuality about her and yet she didn’t seem to know it. This only made her appeal to him more.
He loved it when she sat in a sunny window and worked with her books. The light showed the blue-black of her hair, hair as black as a raven’s wing. Her skin was like milk. There were times when he simply could not help himself and he had to get close enough to her to breathe her in. She smelled so good to him.
Yes, his feelings about Em Charvez had gone from annoyance to near obsession in those months he watched her and it certainly hadn’t helped that he found it necessary to peek in on her when she took a shower or was sleeping. After she’d gone in the mornings, he took a moment to put his face into her pillow and inhale deeply, pulling her scent into his senses where he could hold her all day.
He really hoped that this whole issue of the book came to nothing so that his queen wouldn’t want her dead and he could pursue the raven-haired beauty for himself and his bed.
Con eyed the man with her narrowly. He’d scented her desire as he’d passed and now he fought a rising tide of annoyance. The cream trickling from her pussy should be his, would be his. He itched to give the man a rash or a stomach ailment but held back. If Aine found out he’d done such a thing she’d be angry, they weren’t supposed to harm humans. Pouting, Con kept walking and kept his curses to himself.
* * * * *
Em sat, staring at the pages on the desk in front of her. She shook her head and read the passages again. A frown marred her features as she sat back with a concerned sigh. It wasn’t quite summer yet but the already oppressive heat pressed against the windows and she knew that her weak air conditioner would only be effective for another few weeks. She took a few long drinks of her iced tea and doodled as she thought over what she’d been reading.
If what she had found was correct, it could spell trouble for those who used magic to protect innocents and more specifically, the Compact that the Charvez witches were bound by. A Compact she’d only been told about the year before and had been endlessly fascinated with.
She’d spent the last five months researching the one passage she’d found in the journal of a twelfth-century death wielder about a book that contained the key to using two opposing forces to dissolve any magical agreements or bonds. By her loose translation of the Latin and bastardized Greek, she thought the book was called The Shifting Veil. She couldn’t be sure, there was another language there, one that she’d never seen before. It was mainly dominated by runic symbols but she felt that she understood it on some subconscious level.
It had been that way forever. She intuitively understood things related to magic—she didn’t always have a perfect grasp and it wasn’t always clear—but if she just let go a bit, things would sometimes just come to her. It’s what made her such a great researcher, she just followed her gut.
Over the last five months, Em’s biggest challenge had been to figure out where all of the references had come from. She had traced some of the text to a collection of extremely rare books. Of course she’d traced them to several possible places and most of those leads had proven fruitless. However, a few days prior, she’d found out that a collector of arcane magical texts had died sixty years before. The books from his library had been sold at an auction. She had a feeling she knew who might have purchased them there.
Deciding to go with that hunch, Em pulled out her address book, flipped it open and grabbed the telephone.
A richly accented voice answered. “Yes, hello?”
“Mrs. Belton? This is Emily Charvez from New Orleans.”
“Oh, Em! How nice to hear from you again. It’s been a long time. Since that last call we had, what was it? Two years ago? My, you’re really turning heads out there in the magical community. I was quite impressed with your last paper. You’re making quite a name for yourself as an eminent authority on magical research.”
Em laughed, a pleased blush creeping up her neck. “Well, I don’t know that I’d go that far but I do like to research and I love books. In fact, that’s what I was calling about. I was wondering, is your offer to talk with me about your collection still open? I’m going to be in London in a few weeks and I’d appreciate the chance to speak with you about your library. I’d love to talk about some rare books with you over dinner. My treat.”
“Oh of course! As a fellow book lover you should know I’d never be able to turn down a chance to talk about them with you, especially over a free meal. And I love to show my books off to people who can truly appreciate them,” the older witch said with a laugh.
They ironed out a few more details and Em hung up. Adelade Belton was one of the foremost magical scholars in the world and her library was the most comprehensive. Em had a feeling that some of those books had ended up in Adelade Belton’s library. Em had been itching to see it for years now and it seemed like she’d finally get the chance.
Chapter Two
Emily Charvez looked out the window of the airplane as it approached Heathrow for landing. She smiled, it was her first trip out of the United States and she was going alone. Her smile lessened a bit as she thought of how her family had urged her to take one of them along. She’d argued vigorously that she’d wanted to do it on her own. She was twenty-five years old and totally capable of traveling to England to track down some rare magical texts without a brother in tow, thank you very much! She felt a little like a magical Nancy Drew.
The worst thing had been that Lee had taken their mother’s side. She’d insisted that Em should take an escort even though Em knew good and well that Lee would have made the trip alone without batting an eye. Em sighed at another example of how everyone saw her as helpless and shy while they saw Lee as a freaking superhero.
In the end, she’d agreed to stay in one of Aidan’s boutique hotels in London a
nd to call daily as the price of being left alone to make the trip on her own. A small price to pay really, she knew Aidan’s hotels had to be pretty darned nice and it saved her some major cash.
The flight attendants came by to take trash and prepare everyone for landing and she put away her journal and sat back.
“You’ll be sure to give me a telephone call, then?” the woman next to Em asked her.
“Of course, you’ve been so lovely, I do hope you’ll let me take you to lunch.” Em smiled at the elderly woman sitting next to her. Figures, the cute guy who’d been making eyes at her back at La Guardia had a seat a few rows back and she’d noticed with a sigh that the young woman who sat next to him had already worked hard at catching that eye. Just her luck that she’d ended up next to the older woman who spent the entire flight from New York talking about her dogs and her son the dentist.
“Oh please do! You must come by my home for tea, perhaps my son will be around,” her elderly seatmate said with a bright smile.
Em smiled back. She’d picked up that the woman desperately wanted to see her son married and with a family before she died. She’d also picked up that this son may not be playing on her team and his mother was a bit concerned about his “friend”, who her son seemed to be so close to.
After the plane landed, Em headed to the immigration checkpoint and sweet deluded Mrs. Eddington went to claim her bags.
Once she’d cleared immigration and claimed her bags, Em was happily surprised to see that Aidan had arranged for a car to pick her up and take her to the hotel. On the way into the city, she called back home. She and Lee had come to a truce after the arguments about her traveling alone and Lee was treading carefully to keep things smooth. Em had the distinct feeling that Alex was behind that.
“Hello?” her sister’s voice rang out.
“Lee, I just wanted to call to say I got in all right and to thank Aidan for the car.”
“He’s sleeping but I’ll tell him when he wakes up. You know how he worries. He’s arranged for a suite for you at the hotel, don’t argue or call and complain and don’t try to get into another room. He won’t have it and as he owns the damned place, they won’t move you even if you ask.”
“Lee!”
“What? He loves you, it’s his hotel, he likes to spoil the women in his life. What can I say? Other than thank god he’s all mine!” She giggled. “Seriously, cher, just enjoy it and order loads of room service.”
Em sighed but smiled. “Tell him thank you, I’ll try to call when it’s dark there so I can tell him myself. You take care and I’ll see you in two weeks,” she said.
“I will and you too, okay? Call me at least every day or I’ll call you. I love you, Em. Have fun. If you need me you’ll call, won’t you? I’m here for you, you know that, right?”
She sighed. She knew they were all worried about her and she felt guilty but then it pissed her off that she felt guilty over getting her own life in order. She shook it off, she was a continent away from them and she’d damn well fix what ailed her on her own.
“I do know that and I appreciate it, I love you for it. I’ll talk to you soon, please tell Maman and Papa that I arrived safely,” she said just before she hung up.
* * * * *
The doorman helped her out of the car and escorted her inside. Walking into the beautiful lobby, she tried not to gape in awe, the place was so gorgeous and classy. Clearly a lot of money had been spent to decorate but rather than appear garish the small hotel had an understated old-world charm.
Still in a state of pleased surprise at her surroundings, the doorman handed Em off to the manager, coming out from behind a rather ornate wooden counter. He took her hand with a smile.
“Ms. Charvez, welcome to London and the Belleville. The driver called ahead to let us know you were on your way and everything is ready for you. Mr. Bell wants you to know that if you have need of anything, all that is required is for you to but ask. The Belleville has a twenty-four-hour concierge ready to meet any need you may have.” He motioned to the bellman, who placed her suitcases on a cart and escorted her to the elevator.
When it went all the way to the top floor she held her breath with anticipation about what the place would look like. When the doors slid open she wasn’t disappointed.
“Uh, I was under the impression I was staying in a suite,” she said, stunned by the massive penthouse apartment with huge windows overlooking the city in three directions.
“These are Mr. Bell and Ms. Charvez’s personal apartments. He wanted to be sure you stayed here. The kitchen is fully stocked and someone will arrive tomorrow morning to bring your breakfast. A cook is also available for other meals should you desire it. Simply use the phone to call down and request it. You may also request a car for any transportation needs,” the bellman said, politely ignoring the look of shock on Em’s face.
She reached into her bag to tip him but he shook his head. “No, Ms. Charvez, no need to tip any of us on your visit, it’s all been taken care of. Please enjoy your stay,” he started toward the elevators. “If you set this lock here, the elevators will not be able to open without a key card. If you need someone to unpack your clothing or press anything, just call downstairs.”
After he left she wandered the penthouse. Damn, it sure did pay to know the rich and privileged. She chose the master suite, which had a large bed that sat in the middle of the room. She opened the doors, walked out onto the terrace and gazed out over the Thames River and London Bridge.
Emily Charvez was looking for something.
All her life she’d been different from most people and that served to keep her close to her family and the women who shared her differences. She could feel when people were lying or insincere, she could tell when someone didn’t like her or wanted to cause her or someone else harm.
It was difficult to make friends because she could read when people were scared by her gift or if they wanted her to use it as a parlor trick or other, worse things. So she stuck with family. She had many cousins who were near her age and she had Lee. They were all different, and in that difference they were the same.
In most ways, Lee was her best friend as well as her sister. At the same time, Em grew up in Lee’s shadow. Lee was their mother’s favorite, Lee was the witch dreamer, the most powerful Charvez of their generation and the most powerful witch dreamer in seven generations. She was bold and smart and independent. Em was the quiet one. Where Lee had gorgeous, long, curly auburn hair and lavender eyes, Em had close-cropped hair as dark as night and green eyes. Lee was petite and fecund and Em was tall and, well, she was long and lean but she was blessed in the boob department. She got that from their mother. While Lee looked like a doll, men were usually put off by Em’s height. Just once Em wanted to feel dainty when with a man.
Em realized that she needed this time away from her family to figure out what her next step in life was going to be. She was a twenty-five-year-old virgin witch who loved books and lived inside her head. She needed to live a little, to do it away from the notorious Charvez women and their protective fathers, brothers and cousins. Because, really, she wasn’t so much the shy one but the misunderstood one. Em knew she had it in her to be fearless and sexy and she planned to show that to everyone else too.
With a smile of resolve, she wandered back inside and unpacked her things. Grabbing a glass of very nice cabernet she went to the terrace outside the living room and sat, watching the city move from late afternoon into evening, doing nothing more than writing in her journal and listening to music, free from worries for the first time in a long while.
She was excited and awestruck. The penthouse was so lavish, it must be what it felt like to be royalty. She grinned, thinking of how fortunate her sister was on all counts. Not just one great guy but two of them. Her painting career was thriving, as was Aidan’s. Alex, her other man, was one of New Orleans’ most successful financial planners. They had a great house and a great life and they traveled and apparently did it
in great style. If she didn’t love Lee so much she’d hate her.
Her smile dimmed. It wasn’t as if Lee’s life was carefree, she’d had to battle an evil dark mage, had watched their great-aunt’s murder and had been kidnapped and had her life and the lives of her husbands threatened. Lee deserved her life and her happiness, Em just wanted some for herself.
So, she turned her power down as low as she could so that she wouldn’t drown in everyone else’s feelings and thoughts, changed her clothes and washed her face and headed out to grab a bite.
* * * * *
After he’d assured himself of Em’s safety at the restaurant, Con knew he could avoid it no longer and slipped through the Veil and went directly to the queen.
Aine looked at him with a raised brow. “Con, it’s been several weeks since your last report on the human. I was getting ready to send Jayce after you.”
He hadn’t wanted to leave Em. It wasn’t so much that she was weak or fragile—for a human she was very strong—but she was a human and there were dark forces at work and he had grown more attached to her as the months had passed. He was hesitant to let her out of his protection. Knowing time passed differently in Tir na nOg, he also wanted to get back to her as soon as possible, so he launched directly into an explanation.
“She is in London and will try to meet with a human witch who may have the book in her possession. This Emily Charvez does not have the book in her possession, as I told you some months back. She is not an evil human. She does not seek the book for her own glory. She is concerned about the innocents her family is bound to protect. A demon lord is involved in attempts to dissolve a Compact that was wrought by Freya,” Con explained.