Chapter 10
10
brOGAN
A fter Killian and Lizzy went to their bedroom, I chatted with Dae privately in the front sitting room, catching him up on all of my previous interactions with Esme. There wasn't much more to tell, at least nothing that had to do with the djinn. Only what she'd told me tonight, all of which he already knew, but he liked to have his bases covered. Anything else that had gone down between me and her was none of his fucking business, or anyone else's, for that matter.
When we were finished, I found Esme alone in the kitchen, sipping her glass of water as she waited for me. She turned in her chair when I entered, her tired eyes meeting mine. An unmistakable tension hung in the air as we faced each other.
"Hey," I said, leaning against the counter.
"Hey yourself." She set the glass down on the table. "I'm not quite sure what to do from here," she admitted softly. "Or what to say."
"Was it real?" I blurted. The words had tumbled from my lips before I could stop them.
A look of confusion crossed her gorgeous face. "Was what real?"
"That kiss tonight. And the kiss in the locker room. Were they real? Or was it desperation?" I asked, my voice low and uncertain as I searched her face for the truth, both desperate and terrified to hear it. "Because it sure as hell felt real to me, Esme. More real than anything I've felt in a long time. But I need to know if you felt it too, or if I'm just fooling myself here."
She didn't respond right away, and my heart stopped its incessant pounding in my ears as fear overtook me. When she finally did answer my question, it wasn't what I was expecting to hear. "It was desperation, yes, but not in the way you think."
"I don't know what that means."
"It means it was real," she admitted.
My heart staggered, stuttered to a stop, then began to beat again, quickly catching a steady rhythm. But even hearing the words, I still had trouble believing them. "Don't say it if you don't mean it. I'm not going to throw you back out onto the street alone. I'm a better male than that."
She straightened in her chair. "I might flirt. And I might tease a bit. But I wouldn't use my body to get my way. I'm a smarter woman than that," she retaliated, not breaking eye contact.
She was either telling the truth, or she was a really good liar. But it felt like the truth. Or maybe I just wanted to believe it. Either way, I'd have to take her word for it or admit that she’d made a complete and utter fool out of me.
"Fair enough," I told her. "So now tell me this, why did Marcus come after your family?" The question had been buzzing around in my head ever since she first told me what happened.
Her dark eyes found mine, then skittered away. "I don't know."
That was a lie. She knew why. "Don't give me that shit."
To her credit, she didn't continue with it. Instead, she said nothing at all.
Frustration gnawed at my insides and I pushed away from the counter, studying her for a moment before I joined her at the table. "Esme, look at me."
She took a shaky breath as she stared down at the floor before turning in her chair to face me. Reluctantly, her eyes rose. They were guarded when they met mine.
"Why would he come after your family?" I repeated. "In my experience, the djinn view humans as little more than pests. No better than bugs. Definitely not worth the time and effort to do something like what you described. So there must be something else you're not telling me."
She still didn't respond.
I laid my hand on the table between us, palm up. "Give me your hand."
After a pause, she did, and I tightened my fingers around hers. "You came to me for help. But I can't help you if you don't trust me."
She studied our joined hands.
"You have to trust me, darlin'."
I let my eyes roam over her face as she considered all her options, and for a moment, I wondered if that stubbornness inside of her would win out. But Esme was a smart woman, and she finally started to talk. Slowly at first.
"He thought…he thought my abuela had something he was looking for."
“Your grandmother?”
She nodded.
"What was he looking for?"
"A book."
Now it was my turn to be confused. "He murdered your family over a book?"
She stared down at our joined hands. “It's a very special book. An ancient tome that contains spells."
"Witch’s spells?"
"Yes. Apparently. I'm not exactly sure as none of us had ever seen any such book."
I mulled that over for a few seconds, trying to make sense of it. “Then why would a djinn think your grandmother would have a book of spells?" I finally asked, my brow furrowed in confusion. "That makes no sense. Did one of you collect artifacts or something?"
"Because…" She stopped speaking, closed her eyes, took a breath, then opened them and tried again. "Because I'm a bruja —a witch, of sorts—as was my mother and my mother's mother and her mother before her. We have many books that have been handed down through the family. For some reason, he thought his was one of them."
She gripped my hand tighter as she told me this, like she expected me to pull away. And honestly, if she hadn’t been holding onto me so tight, I probably would have. I knew about the witches in Mexico. They practiced dark magic—the kind that even sent shivers down the spines of creatures like me. Kidnapped children and animals for their curses and hexes because they dealt in blood magic.
Something icy and evil slithered down my spine.
Her eyes met mine, and I could practically feel her trying to probe around my mind. “I can see it in your eyes," she said, and I didn't miss the sadness in her voice. "The fear of me."
I did try to pull my hand away then, but she held fast, her eyes pleading with me not to turn away from her. But… damn . I mean, we had voodoo priestesses and witches here in New Orleans. And over the years, we’d learned to live together in the same city, thanks to the agreement that allowed us to coexist. Some of them were even mated to members of my coven. And hell, we just found out that Kenya had voodoo blood in her.
But this was different.
Witches are the spawn of Satan.
And Esme was no normal witch. She was a blood witch.
What the fuck had I done, bringing her here? Asking the others to help her? I'd put them all in danger, and for what? Because I wanted to fuck her? Because I thought there was something special between us?
I was a damn fool. A fool who'd let his dick do the thinking instead of his brain. And now we would all pay the price.
Jesus Christ. Maybe Killian was right and she was working with the djinn. And I'd just invited her into our fucking home.
I finally managed to yank my hand away from hers and stood up, backing away from the table, putting the island between us. I needed to get her the hell out of here. "I can't do this.” I shook my head. "I'm sorry. I can't help you. I won't put my coven at risk."
She stood also. "Brogan, please. I'm not what you think."
But I wouldn't let her near me. "I've been around a long time. I know exactly what you are."
She shook her head. "No, you don’t,” she insisted.
"Are you telling me you don't practice blood magic? You don't create curses? Hexes? Love spells?" My voice rose, edged with panic as the implications crashed through me. A seriously fucked up thought suddenly occurred to me, making my stomach drop like I'd just stepped off the edge of a cliff. "Is that what this is? Did you put a goddamn love spell on me? Is that why I can't stop thinking about you?" I practically vibrated with tension now, my hands clenched into fists at my sides to keep them from shaking.
"No!" she insisted. "I haven't done anything but try to get to know you."
"I don't believe you," I growled, shaking my head vehemently. She had lied before. "This...this thing between us," I waved my hand back and forth between us, "it's not natural. It's not real ."
Esme took a step towards me, her dark eyes pleading. "Brogan, please. I swear to you, I didn't cast any spell. What we feel for each other, it's very, very real."
But I couldn't believe her. The lust I felt, the pull toward her, it was too strong, too all-consuming to be anything but magic. "Stop lying to me!" I snapped, my fists clenching at my sides. "You've been manipulating me from the start, haven't you? From the moment you walked into our club! You’ve used your spells to make me want you, so you could trick me into feeling sorry for you and drag me into a war that isn’t mine.”
She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. "That's not true. I would never do that to you, or to anyone! Yes, the magic I practice is…different, but I've never used it to control someone's feelings." She took a small step toward me, her hands reaching for me. “You must believe me.”
I laughed bitterly. "And why should I? Hell, you've been keeping secrets from me this whole time."
She came around the island and tried to take my hand again, but I jerked away from her touch. "You asked me to trust you," she said. "And I did. So now I'm asking the same of you. What we have, it IS real. I feel it too, this connection between us. I felt it the first time I saw you. What I am and where I came from doesn't change anything."
I wanted so badly to believe her, to give in to the part of me that yearned for her touch, her kiss. But I couldn't take that risk, couldn't put my faith in a witch who dealt in darkness and deception. "I can't do this," I said again, my voice rough with emotion. "I won't let you use me or my family for whatever twisted agenda you have."
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she stared at me, her expression a mix of hurt and desperation. She took a step back, her arms hanging limply at her sides, her dark hair falling forward to hide her face as she hung her head and spoke to the floor. "This is exactly why I didn’t tell you."
An ugly laugh burst from me. "Don't try to guilt trip me."
"I'm not. I just…" She trailed off, wrapped her arms around herself and sighed heavily. Then she lifted her chin, and I could practically see the shields she raised around herself. "Never mind. It doesn't matter anymore."
I wanted to tell her to leave, but couldn't bring myself to say it. Instead, I told her again, "We can't help you. I'm sorry." Because despite it all, I was.
Dark, haunted eyes met mine. “ Por favor …please…don't push me away,” she whispered.
But I had to. For the sake of my coven, and for my own sanity, I had to end this now before it went any further. Before I fell any deeper under her spell.
When I didn't respond, she straightened her shoulders, walked back to her chair, and grabbed her jacket. Without another word and without looking at me, she shrugged it on.
And although I didn't utter a sound as I watched her walk out the door, the screams in my head were so loud I thought they were going to crack my skull in half. My body leaned forward of its own accord, as though it wanted to follow her.
With a low sound of anguish, I forced my feet to turn around and take me to my room.