Chapter 15

Mikhail’s apartment was a loft over his warehouse. He said he lived with his lover, and Morgaine noticed a woman’s touch had softened some of the modern industrial feel. One wall was brick, but sage silk curtains and a thick ivory rug covering part of the dark wood floors warmed the place considerably.

“Where’s your significant other?”

Mikhail chuckled. “I can’t get used to that term. She owns a shop in Soho and should be there at the moment. Why?”

“Well, she may not like this, but I need you to put my name on the deed to your warehouse temporarily. In order for me to reseal the doors and invite you back in, I need to have some type of ownership of the property.”

“Temporary, you say? How temporary?”

“You can take my name off the deed as soon as it’s done.”

“In that case, she doesn’t need to know. It’s in my name only and willed to her in the very unlikely event of my death. I’ll probably tell her after the fact just for fun.”

Sly stood by the large expanse of windows, watching the sun set. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of it. And with good reason. If she couldn’t reverse engineer the curative powers of Vampire Vintage, his days were numbered and his nights, never-ending.

“I’ll take care of the deed and get some wine.” He excused himself. Morgaine psychically knew he was heading for his safe. She returned her gaze to his computer monitor.

Concentrate, she scolded herself. Mikhail had the security tape playing in a loop so Morgaine could see the vampire black magician at work. They hadn’t found the scroll, so Morgaine figured it had been taken out of the warehouse to be burned or buried.

She kept all of her parchment ashes and released them on the wind each Samhain. He might do the same. This year, however, Samhain came and went without much fanfare. She and Gwyneth barely spoke that day. She shook her head and realized her mind was wandering again.

Eventually, she called out, “I think I’ve gotten all I can out of this tape, Mikhail.”

He returned with two glasses of red wine and handed one to her. “Okay. I’ll shut it off. Is there anything else you need?”

“Just a place to set up my altar.”

“Here or in the warehouse?” He moved smoothly over to Sly and handed him the other glass. Morgaine’s glass had a purple stem, and the other one was clear. She imagined that was so she didn’t get mixed up and accidentally drink the Vampire Vintage. Blood. Yeachk.

“The warehouse would be best. I can reseal the door after breaking the curse. You’ll need to be invited in again after that, along with any other vampires you want to allow access.”

Mikhail stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’d prefer to keep my warehouse sealed to all but myself.”

“Oh! Then, Sly can’t come with me?”

Sly turned and watched them. He might have jumped in and offered to go with her or stay away. Any kind of hint would be nice, but no. He was letting her decide what she wanted and needed.

“I—I guess I can let him stay here,” Morgaine said. “Or better yet, wait just outside the warehouse door. He can try to come in after I seal it, then you’ll know it worked.”

“Or didn’t.”

“Oh, it’ll work,” she said, slightly affronted. “If there’s one area I’m competent in, it’s magic.”

“I’m sure you’re competent in many things and I apologize if it sounded like I doubted you, but I’ve never seen your work before...”

She took a deep breath. “I understand. There’s no need to apologize. I’m just a little touchy right now.”

“Oh? Is anything wrong?”

She glanced at Sly. He remained as he had been—just watching and waiting for things to play out however she let them.

“No. I’m fine. Let’s go.” She rose and gathered her satchel which she jokingly referred to as Have altar; will travel.

Together they tromped down to the refurbished elevator and rode it to the main floor. Sly took her hand and gave it a squeeze. When she glanced at his face, she saw pride shining there. She smiled and whispered. “Don’t worry. I can do this.”

He leaned close. “I know you can.”

There were two entrances to the warehouse, one on either side of the polished travertine corridor. “He came in this door,” Mikhail said as he pointed to the left.

“It won’t matter which door he used. I’ll need to seal them both. Do you know who invited him in?”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t. No one would own up to it. I was pretty pissed, and I can be an intimidating guy when I’m angry.”

Morgaine could only imagine it. Mikhail was dark, but not swarthy. He could probably get red in the face if he’d fed or had enough wine.

“Sly, you don’t mind waiting right here, do you?”

“Not at all.” He gave her a quick kiss before she and Mikhail entered the warehouse.

Row upon row of wine racks were filled with products. How in hell did he manage to make so much with a long-ago dried drop of blood on a tiny piece of ancient cloth?

Mikhail gestured to his space. “Where would you like to do this?”

The rows of wine racks were fairly close together, but the perimeter allowed for a nine-foot circle. “Right at the bottom of the steps should be fine.”

As she was preparing her altar and arranging the four woods to break the hex it occurred to her in a flash of vision. They no longer needed the rag. They used a bit of wine from one bottle to pass on the cure to the next. It was like sourdough bread. She almost gasped aloud when she realized she’d uncovered his precious secret. Now all she had to do was earn her case of wine and start adding it to their own concoction. Hopefully, it would take. At least they’d have plenty to experiment with until they figured it out.

“Morgaine, are you all right?”

“Huh? Oh, um, yeah. I just need one more thing and we can do this. I gave it to Sly for safe keeping. I’ll be right back.”

Mikhail frowned, and his eyes followed her as she left.

She didn’t care if he was suspicious or not. She had to let Sly know about this new revelation before she began messing with hexes, just in case something happened to her.

She opened the warehouse door, but before she closed it, she asked Mikhail, “Will this lock if I let it close?”

“Yes. Why don’t I go with you so I can let you back in again.”

“No! Uh, no. I’d rather you keep watch over my altar. I’ll prop open the door with my shoe.” She whipped off her black half boot and stuck it in the door as soon as she was on the other side.

Sly had been looking out of the glass panel in the front door and turned, arching one brow in curiosity. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I just had to come get that…” she winked “ingredient I tucked into your pocket this morning.”

Apparently, he followed her ruse and just said. “Ah.”

Hurrying to his side, she whispered in his ear, “Can Mikhail hear us if I whisper?”

Sly shrugged.

She had to make a quick decision. Possibly let Mikhail know she’d discovered his secret or take the chance of Sly never knowing…

Finally, she just said, “If anything happens to me, tell Gwyneth to use the principles of sourdough bread.”

His brows knit. “What do you mean, if anything happens to you?”

“Look, magic can be dangerous. You already knew that, right?”

He reared back. “No, I didn’t. You’d better rethink this.”

“I can’t,” she said a little too loudly. She coughed, then lowered her voice. “I doubt anything will happen. I just had to let you know—in case…”

“In case what?”

Exasperated, she blew out a deep breath.

“Fine. But will she know what that means?” he whispered.

Morgaine nodded. Then she grabbed him and kissed him hard. “I love you.” With that she whirled on her remaining heel and ran back to the warehouse before he could stop her.

Mikhail was pacing. “What was that about?”

She smiled innocently as she put her boot back on. “What was what about?”

I heard you say, “I can’t.”

“Oh, you heard that, huh? Did you hear anything else?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “What’s this about, Morgaine? Is something wrong?”

“No. Everything’s fine.”

Sly opened the door. Apparently, the lock wasn’t strong enough to hold the door closed against vampiric strength, but he didn’t enter. “Everything isn’t fine.” His expression was stern. “She just told me this could be dangerous. I don’t want her risking her neck for you or me or anyone.”

Mikhail stared at Morgaine. “Is that true? Could you harm yourself, if you do this?”

“It’s very unlikely. I mean, how would he know you’d find a witch to remove his curse? And I’m not sure he could do anything to stop me, even if he did know.”

“And what was ‘I can’t’ in response to?” Mikhail asked.

“I wanted her to reconsider,” Sly answered for her. “Mikhail, invite me in.”

“No, don’t.” Morgaine had to stand up to these two men. Otherwise, the whole trip would have been for nothing. “Please, Sly. Tell you what, I’ll do a spell to increase my own strength first. Now, close the door and let us continue.”

“No.” He folded his arms and planted his feet shoulder-width apart.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, then, I’ll just have to do this with you watching.”

“Mikhail, if she looks at all unwell, you’ll stop her, right?”

“Absolutely.” The two stubborn he-men nodded to each other.

Morgaine threw her hands up. “Fine. Now, let’s get this done. She shoved a box of sea salt at Mikhail. “Start on the opposite side of the altar, pour this salt around us, and don’t leave the circle once it’s been cast.”

He glided around her in a wide circle, spreading the salt. When he finished, he moved to the spot she indicated and stood across from her, hands clasped behind his back.

Morgaine picked up her wand, pointed it at the North until blue light flowed out of its tip, then she rotated in place and drew the circle over their heads chanting, “We stand in circles of light that nothing may cross.”

She remembered her promise to increase her own strength and lay down on the floor.

“Is she okay?” Sly shouted.

“I’m fine. It’s part of the ritual. Now, please stop worrying and don’t interrupt—no matter what, okay?”

Sly didn’t respond. She’d just have to hope he behaved himself. At least Mikhail still hadn’t invited him in.

She lay with her hands crossed over her chest as if dead. Closing her eyes, she went into trance, then slowly sat up and mumbled, “On, Oron, Doron,” she raised her voice as she rose. “Radoron, Gorradoron, Rogoradoron!”

Next, she took the small ball of parchment paper on which she’d written the spell and set it on fire in her censor. Holding the twigs she’d brought with her over the smoke and taking in a deep breath, she looked up and cried out, “Goddess, hear me. Turner be turned, burner be burned; Let only good come of this wood.”

She spit on each stick, broke them in two and tossed them into the fire. Then she said, “The curse will die with the fires’ death. So mote it be.”

She watched the fire in trance until the last flicker had disappeared and a few tendrils of smoke rose from the glowing embers. “It is done.”

She opened the circle and came out of her trance.

Mikhail still looked vaguely uneasy. “Let me try something, just to be sure the curse has been broken and we don’t have to worry about freak accidents anymore.”

“Of course,” Morgaine said. “What did you have in mind?”

Mikhail strode to a workbench and plucked a pair of scissors out of a drawer. Jogging up and down the aisles of wine racks he shouted to some unknown power, “Hey, I’m running with scissors here!”

When he returned unharmed, he and Morgaine laughed and shared a congratulatory high-five.

Back in their room for the night, a combination of victory and relief filled Sly. Morgaine had succeeded. She’d lifted the curse, resealed both doors, and more than earned the respect and gratitude of her friend. He hoped she was as proud of herself as he was of her.

“You did it,” he said as they slipped into bed.

She grinned. “Yes, I did. Now I hope both of us will do it, if you catch my drift.”

Sly laughed and pulled her soft, naked body against him. “I think I know what you mean, but just to be sure, why don’t you show me?”

One side of her lip raised in a knowing smile, then she feathered the tip of her tongue down the column of his neck until he groaned.

“I could let you do that all night, but you’re the one who deserves something special.”

She lifted her head and smiled. “Oh? Like what?”

In one smooth motion, he had her positioned on her back with her legs spread. He knelt between them and scooped her up, lifting her mound to his face.

“Like this, love.” Sly’s tongue flickered softly along her labia.

She arched and moaned.

Her eyes dilated and her heartbeat quickened as she watched him continue to explore her. Morgaine pulled in a shuddering breath when he slid two fingers inside her, slowly and gently. Moaning, she ground her hips against his hand.

He mimicked a rhythm of love making as he stroked in and out of her core. After several moments of caressing her intimately, he lowered his head and found her clit with the tip of his tongue. She bucked and gasped. Good. She was almost as sensitized as he wanted her to be.

He whirled his tongue around her clit and she quietly whimpered. He could have teased her like this longer, but he sensed she needed release.

He zeroed in on her clit and flicked his tongue as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. She cried out and climaxed. Her legs vibrated uncontrollably as she alternately screamed and emitted unintelligible sounds.

Finally, after her body’s powerful reaction disintegrated into a weak, panting, quiver, Sly settled gently on top of her. His cock nudged her opening, and he tingled with the contact.

“You’re wonderful” he whispered. “Beautiful.” With a gentle thrust he pushed the swollen head of his erection in and stopped.

She caught her breath.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?”

“Goddess, yes. It feels so good.”

He smiled. “It does for me too, love.”

Sly braced himself on either side of her with his hands pressed into the mattress. He’d massage her clit with his pelvis as he moved in and out of her. He began his thrusts, escalating a bit faster each time.

The friction rubbed her already sensitized area, and she moaned with her head tilted back. His cock throbbed with pleasure too. As if she wanted to increase his joy, she squeezed her lower muscles around his shaft.

He groaned and pumped faster.

She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, softly moaning as he rode her. Suddenly he reached his peak. His balls drew up and he cried out as his cock pulsed inside her. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and followed him over the edge. Hoarse from her previous orgasm, her voice took on a lower, raspier sound as she cried out her blissful release.

The tension had run out of his body. His damp skin fused to hers. He gently lowered his full weight onto her boneless torso and met her mouth with a long, deep kiss.

Yeah, I could get used to this.