Chapter Four
Ascream tickled the back of Constance’s throat. It shimmered there but she held it back—barely.
“Alistair?” she asked, irritated that her voice wavered.
His lips curved up into one of his evil smiles, telling Constance he heard it.
What kind of sweet hell was she living in now?
It was bad enough that her sister and Simon were here.
Now, the main reason she had run away from her family to Texas was standing in her kitchen.
She swallowed back bile as her stomach continued to churn.
“Connie,” he said, walking toward her. God, she hated the way he shortened her name. Loathed it. She had told him more than once not to do it. He ignored her.
“W-what are you doing here?” she asked, trying her best not to back away from him. Her instincts told her to flee, as they had for years now. But while it had always been a hum, it was now a full operetta chorus screaming in her head.
“I decided that it was time to approach you, but I didn’t think these two would be here.”
She glanced at Simon and Caprice. Relief swept through her. Having them there was worth the headache. She needed them at her back. Alistair had always been so damned weird. And not in a good way. In a very, very bad way, and he seemed to be getting worse.
“We are family,” Simon said, moving to step slightly in front of Caprice. She looked irritated with him, but Constance knew Simon didn’t have a choice. He had to protect his mate, even if Caprice didn’t know she still was his mate.
“Yes…for now.”
What the hell did that mean? Alistair had always talked in riddles. Even as a young child, he had been odd—and that was saying a lot in their world.
“I told you I didn’t want to get married. I thought you understood.”
He studied her for a second or two. “What I understood was that you were confused.”
She hated that. Hated that men in her world always discounted her feelings. Her father had done it and so had her brother and cousins. Probably because they wanted the connections her marriage would bring.
She choked, barely able to contain the bile. Maybe she had eaten something bad. “I think you need to leave. I’ve been feeling ill all day.”
He glanced at her, then at Simon. Simon’s anger ratcheted up a few degrees.
She did not want a fight in her kitchen, physical or paranormal.
She gave her brother-in-law a pointed look.
He caught it and nodded, but he wasn’t happy about it.
Constance knew when they were alone, there would be hell to pay.
“I’ll leave, but I will be back tomorrow. We need to work something out here.”
She nodded, but in her mind, she would figure out how to avoid him.
Then he turned toward Caprice and Simon with the same evil smile. “So nice to see the two of you back together.” Then, he waved his hand and disappeared.
The moment he was gone, shivers wracked her body, and her stomach turned over. She gagged and had to take deep breaths to keep from throwing up. With unsteady legs, she tried to walk to the chair, but her entire body felt as if it were tilted on some kind of axis.
“Constance,” her sister said, running forward. She helped her to a chair.
Constance collapsed into it and closed her eyes. “Sorry. I just…it’s never been that strong.”
Caprice waved a hand to pull a chair closer and sat in front of her.
Her hand wrapped around Constance’s, sending a wave of warm energy through Constance.
Constance opened her eyes and saw the solemn look on her sister’s face.
If she wasn’t already frightened, she would be terrified now.
Caprice never looked serious without cause.
“I felt it. Not as strongly as you did, but I felt it. There’s something wrong.”
Simon made a noise. “Wrong? That’s too simple a word. Usually, he hides his feelings around me. For what he thought about Constance, I’m going to kill the bastard.”
Caprice and Constance looked over at him.
“What?” Constance asked.
“It involves a marriage, a deflowering, then he plans on killing you. And the bastard knew I could hear the thoughts, and he didn’t care. That makes him beyond dangerous.”
Fear slithered down her spine, sending cold shivers throughout her entire body.
He shook his head. “I hate to say this, but we need to get this taken care of. Until you’ve lost your virginity, this isn’t going to go away.”
Constance sighed, the day’s events taking their toll on her. “What kind of freak life do I have? Who in the twenty-first century goes on some hunt for a man to deflower her?” She laid her head down on the table. “I hate my life.”
And she did. Constance had loved her life as a witch.
She was never happier than when she was off playing with potions.
Her sister had been right about that. Why did some stupid old text have to say stupid things about her future?
Couldn’t she just be like those lazy California witches who didn’t worry about the politics of their world?
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” Caprice rubbed her back. “We’ll figure something out, I promise.”
“What are we going to do?” She looked up at her sister then Simon. For once in her life, she let the tears flow. “The Goddess has made it pretty clear that I can’t give my virginity away.”
The last came out on a wail. If she weren’t so upset over the situation, she would have been embarrassed.
“We must work on this MacMillan. I think if we can get him to help, everything will be fine.”
Constance sighed and grabbed a tissue that Simon was holding.
“It’s been months, and now I’m stuck with Alistair. I only got the man in my house today.” She closed her eyes and voiced the fear she’d had for the last year. “I’m going to be Connie the rest of my life.”
When neither of them said anything, Constance opened her eyes.
“You both know it’s hopeless.”
Just saying it seemed to solidify the idea in her mind. She’d left her family with the idea that she would work it all out. But somewhere in her subconscious, she had known she wouldn’t succeed. She was doomed to marry a man who planned to kill her on their wedding night.
Simon opened his mouth to say something, but Caprice shook her head. He snapped it shut.
“You need some sleep. Why don’t you go upstairs, take a long, hot bath, and then go to bed? You don’t ever think straight without a good night’s sleep. Simon and I will put a protection spell on the house. You won’t have to worry about Alistair.”
“I’m trying to live without magick.”
Caprice grabbed Constance, her sweet honeysuckle scent surrounding her. She returned the hug as a fresh wave of tears filled her eyes. She had missed her sister.
“No one—witch, warlock, dragon, or human—should live without magick, sister,” Caprice whispered in her ear.
“I love you.”
“Same,” her sister whispered.
After pulling back, Constance was surprised to see tears in her sister’s eyes. “Don’t worry, Cappy. Fate has decided. We can’t change her mind.”
“Fate is a bitch,” she said.
Constance laughed. “She is that.”
Then she walked upstairs, ignoring the worries for just a little while. She needed a break.