A Touch of Magic, page 11
part #8 of True Mates Generations Series
“What?” Silke’s mouth opened. “No, there’s never been anything between us. I mean, he’s hot, c’mon, I’m not blind. But he saved my brother’s life, and I’ll be grateful to him forever.” There was a strained look on her face. “Besides, I’m done with love and men. I’m flying solo from now on.”
Though she itched to ask Silke more, she restrained herself. It was obviously a painful subject, so she didn’t want to bring it up.
The truck ambled through the hills and valleys, and Sabrina took a long, deep breath. When was the last time she’d been outdoors for an extended period? She couldn’t even remember. Definitely more than three years ago, and even then, she’d never really been the outdoors type, except maybe to paint landscapes. But it seemed being out here in the mountains of Kentucky had washed away her anxiety and fears.
“We’re here.” Silke announced as the vehicle slowed down, and they stopped outside a large, log structure. Though it was very similar to the guest cabin Sabrina was staying at, it was expansive, taking up what was probably the equivalent of half a city block in New York and had multiple stories. There was a beautiful painted wooden sign outside that proudly proclaimed Seven Peaks Mountain Lodge and Cabins.
“It’s gorgeous,” she said with awe.
“That she is,” Silke said as she exited the truck. “The real love of my life.”
Sabrina didn’t blame her. The lodge was impressive—made of reddish-brown pine logs topped with a green steep-sloped roof, stonework pillars, and surrounded by lush pine trees. She followed Silke inside, and they entered the rustically decorated lobby, waving at Arlene who was waiting behind the front desk. The interior wasn’t fancy like the four-star hotels in New York, but it was obviously lovingly done and fit the rustic feel of the place.
“I grew up in the main cabin in the MC part of the land,” Silke explained as they walked down the hallway. “Ransom lives in it, and although I still keep a room there, I prefer to stay in the manager’s suite upstairs.”
They entered the dining room, and there was a table in the corner set up with sandwiches. “It’s nothing fancy, but our chef’s still prepping for dinner.” They sat down and ate their lunch, chatting amiably.
“Thank you for inviting me,” she said when they finished.
“No problem. Besides, it’s nice having another woman my age around. I’m always surrounded by guys, and it can be tiring. I feel like their mother most of the time.” Silke pushed her plate away. “Do you have any more plans for the day? I rarely get any time off, but since we only have one check in today, I thought I’d take advantage. Maybe we could do something fun?”
“I don’t have any plans or anything. Cross left, and he says he’ll be back, but I’m not sure what time.”
Silke’s face brightened. “Oh, do you want to see the horses? The stable’s just out back.”
“Hmmm … I’ve never been around horses. Or animals, actually,” she admitted sheepishly. “Horses seem so … intimidating.”
“Our horses are very gentle,” she said. “I promise. We don’t have to go riding or anything.”
“All right.”
After clearing up their plates, Silke led her outside and to the back part of the property. She pointed out a structure in the distance and the fenced corral around it. “It’s right over there.”
They walked together, and it didn’t take long to reach the small building. “Logan’s probably out patrolling still,” Silke said as she opened the door. “He’s pretty territorial when it comes to the horses. You’d think he owns this place from the way he acts. It’s strange, really, how the horses seem to like him. None of the other Lycans can even come near the animals, which is why I tolerate Logan’s poor manners.”
“They can’t come near the horses?” she asked. “Why not?”
“Hmmm, well I’m human, so I don’t really know how it works,” Silke began. “But see, for Lycans, they share their bodies with their wolves. It’s always there, like having another consciousness in their thoughts.”
“Huh.” She never realized that was the case.
“And, well, Logan says the horses can sense the wolves. It’s like, they have a sixth sense that there’s an aggressive, dominant animal in all of them. He says they can even sense when there’s something bad around. I’m still not sure how Logan manages them, but that’s one reason why I can’t fire him. No one else would be able to do his job.”
They headed inside, and the smell of hay, leather, and animals assaulted her senses. From the entrance, she could see several horses sticking their heads out of their enclosures.
Silke gestured to follow her as they walked along the stalls. “Horses aren’t our bread and butter, but it’s nice to have that option for the guests. We have twelve horses in total, none of them are from any fancy bloodlines, but we love them just the same.” A friendly white horse neighed at Silke, and she caressed its nose. “Hey, Daisy, how’s it going? Sorry, no treats today.” The mare blew out a breath, making Silke laugh. “I—” A ringing sound interrupted her and she fished out her phone from her pocket. “Hey, Arlene, what’s—” Her pretty face drew into a frown. “All right, all right, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’ll take care of it. Gimme a few minutes, okay?” With a shake of her head, she turned to Sabrina. “Sorry, I need to run up to the lodge. There’s a problem with our check-ins.”
“Oh, no worries, we can go back.”
“No, no,” she said, putting her phone back in her pocket. “You stay put, sugar. Won’t take me too long. I’ll be back in two shakes of a tail feather.”
Before she could protest, Silke strode out of the stalls. Sabrina sighed, wondering if she was meant to stay put inside the stables or wait outside. Shrugging, she continued down the walkway, gazing warily at the horses. Their heads turned as she walked by, and a weird feeling crept over her. It was like an energy, as if she could tell the animals seemed … wary of her. Which was strange because they were huge—much bigger than she’d thought as she’d only seen horses in pictures. But there was something about them … she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
She neared the end of the stable, and she saw that one of the stalls was empty. Huh. Looking back, she counted the stalls. There were exactly twelve, six on each side. Where was the last horse? She jogged over and stuck her head into the enclosure. It wasn’t as empty as she first thought; rather, the humongous black horse was inside, backed up toward the rear, whinnying unhappily.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. The horse’s ears were flattened back and hooves pawed at the ground. “Are you hurt?”
The horse let out an angry neigh, making her jump in surprise. “Well, I never!” She grumbled. “I’m not doing anything to you, Mr. Horse!” Okay, she was crazy, right, talking to a horse?
All of a sudden, the horse charged forward, its muscled body hitting the metal bars with a loud clang. She screamed and leapt back. “Stay away!” She put her hands up in front of her defensively, but that only seemed to make the horse angrier. It reared up and then kicked at the metal gates.
“What the fuck is going on here?”
As her heart beat a tattoo in her chest, she turned her head to the sound of the voice. A very large silhouette engulfed the doorway of the stables. “Who the hell are you?” he shouted.
The horse once again neighed angrily and reared back. This time, the gate flew open, and the animal went charging at her.
“No!” she screamed, raising her arms higher. A strange electricity filled the air, crawling over her skin and making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Her vision turned to darkness—or was it that the room turned dark? A ringing sound deafened her, and she slumped on the concrete floor, covering her face with her arms.
It seemed like forever before her hearing returned. She could hear the sounds of soft, nervous hooves stamping and heavy thuds hitting the floor. When she put her arms down and looked up, she saw the man in the doorway, kneeling down next to the black horse, which was now lying on the ground. Horror filled her veins when she saw the animal’s glassy, dead eyes staring at her.
“No, no, no.” The man cradled the horse’s head, rocking it back and forth. “Georgie, no … no!” He let out a pained growl, then turned to Sabrina. “What did you do?” The man snarled at her, his face twisted into an expression of hate.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Slowly, he got to his feet. Even if she was standing up, he would have towered over her. His shoulders were massive, and his arms were like tree trunks as he extended them. “I said, what did you do to her?”
“Logan!” They both turned to the sound of the voice. “Logan, what’s going on? Sabrina?” Silke’s face was drawn into a mask of worry as she helped her up.
“She killed Georgie!” Logan accused. “Look!”
The redhead let out a gasp when her gaze landed on the horse lying on the floor. “Oh, no. Poor Georgie,” she choked. “She was pregnant, right?”
Logan let out a snarl and stalked Sabrina. “What are you? A witch or something?”
“What—no!” She pressed herself against the stall behind her. “I’m not!”
“I saw what you did. Your eyes—”
“Logan, stop!” Silke called from where she knelt by the poor horse. “She’s not a witch. And there’s no way she could have killed Georgie.”
He slammed his meaty hand against the metal bars behind her, making them clank loudly. “You’re a witch. Don’t deny it! Your eyes turned black.” he spat. “You raised your hands and everything went dark, then she was dead. What the hell else could it have been?”
“Please, I swear!” Tears pooled in her eyes. “I didn’t do anything. The horse—she was aggressive, and all I did was ask her what’s wrong.” Her chest felt like it was imploding, contracting so hard she couldn’t breathe. “I didn’t kill her.”
“Sabrina? What’s going on?”
She sagged against the bars in relief at the sound of Cross’s voice. He was standing by the doors, but then his eyes went wide when he saw Logan. In an instant, he appeared behind the other man and grabbed him by the shoulder.
“Get away from her,” Cross snarled, as he pulled back Logan then slammed him against the bars. His hand snaked out to Sabrina, tugging her behind him so he was between her and the furious giant.
“Warlock,” Logan sneered as he righted himself. “I knew you had something to do with this.” His voice dripped with vitriol. “Why Ransom let you stay, I don’t know. Your kind ain’t welcome here!”
“He’s a Lycan,” Silke reminded him. “One of your kind.”
Cross turned to Sabrina. “Did he hurt you? Are you all right? What happened?”
“Oh, Cross.” The last of her strength seemed to crumble, and she collapsed against him, gripping his shirt with her fingers. “I … I don’t know …” She hiccupped as tears spilled down her cheeks. “I was standing here one minute, then the horse came at me, and I raised my hand, and then there was this darkness.”
He stiffened. “Darkness?”
She nodded. “Everything went dark and … and then it all went back to normal and the horse … that poor animal.” More tears poured down her cheeks. “He said I killed it. But I didn’t.”
“I saw everything,” Logan accused. “Georgie was pregnant, that’s why she was so aggressive. And horses can sense evil magic.” He pointed a finger at Sabrina. “Were you planning on using her for a ritual or potion or something?”
“Put that fucking finger away if you want to keep it,” Cross warned.
“I didn’t do it, I swear,” she cried. “I’m human. I’m not a witch.” She looked up at him, wanting to find comfort. Wanting to find something in them that confirmed her innocence. But that wasn’t what she found in their stormy, ocean-colored depths. A pit in her stomach formed, and she dropped her arms to the sides. “You think I did this.”
“Sabrina—”
He didn’t have to say it; she saw it in his eyes. “How could you think that?” She pushed him away and wrapped her arms around herself as a shiver went through her. “I would never kill an innocent creature.”
“I know, Sabrina.” A hand came down on her shoulder, and it took all her might not to shrug it away. “I know you didn’t mean to.”
“What?” Her head snapped up to meet his gaze.
“Sabrina … you didn’t mean to kill the horse. And you can still reverse this.”
Her eyes widened. “Reverse? What are you saying?” Her hands, her voice, her whole body shook as a pounding began in the base of her skull.
“You just have to remember, Sabrina.” He took a step forward and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Remember, Sabrina, you can do it. You did it before.”
The thumping on her nape spread, becoming a full-blown headache that made her vision blur.
And she began to remember.
Three years ago …
Dinner went much better than Sabrina had imagined. Cross picked her up at home, and then they made their way to The Metro Union, a private club she and her father belonged to located on the Upper East Side. She had always loved coming here, because since she became a member herself, they would always dine here once a month, no matter how busy he was. It was their special father–daughter time, and for him to invite Cross was a big thing. Though he’d met most of her previous boyfriends, he’d never invited any of them here. Jonathan always said he had a good instinct when it came to people, so she hoped he could tell that Cross was a wonderful person.
They all met up at the reception area and then headed to the dining room, where they were led to their usual table. During the dinner, Jonathan had been amiable and inquisitive, asking Cross questions about himself, normal things one would ask if they were trying to get to know someone. Sabrina had to admit there were some things about Cross even she didn’t know, but then again, they’d hadn’t known each other very long or spent a lot of time talking about themselves.
Cross was polite and answered all his questions, and the rest of their conversational topics ranged from sports, to art, and world news. Her father would catch her eye sometimes and give her a knowing smile and wink. Cross, too, would look at her warmly and squeeze her hand under the table. All in all, the evening was a success, and suffice to say, she was on a happiness high by the time they all walked out of the restaurant.
“How about a nightcap?” Jonathan offered. “I have a seventeen-year-old whiskey from Japan that I’ve been saving up for a special occasion. It just so happens I have it in my limo. Maybe we can have it at your place, sweetheart?”
Sabrina suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. This was obviously a ploy to prevent them from being alone. “Dad, it’s getting late. Maybe we should call it a night.”
“Are you sure you don’t want any whiskey, Cross?” Jonathan asked. “Just one drink.”
He glanced at Sabrina, who shrugged. “Sure. One drink would be good.”
“Excellent. Let me call my driver, and I’ll meet you outside.” Jonathan took his phone out of his pocket and began to walk toward the door.
“You don’t have to have that drink, you know,” Sabrina said. “I think he’s trying to prevent us from being alone. So, you know … we won’t …”
“Won’t, what?” he asked, but the corners of his mouth were curling up. “It’s all right, Sabrina. I enjoyed talking to your dad.”
She sighed. “He still thinks that I’m a kid.” Or a virgin, she added silently. “I want to be alone with you,” she confessed in a low voice.
His eyes darkened, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Me too.”
“But my dad …” She blew out an impatient breath. “I hate to say it, but he’s kind of a cockblock.”
He laughed. “You’re his daughter. In his mind, you’ll always be his baby girl. It’s just one drink. If it makes you feel better, I can follow him out and then I can come back after he leaves.” A thumb brushed her collarbone, and she shivered. “We’ll have all the time then.”
“Let’s play it by ear, okay?” She’d waited this long, she figured she could wait another couple of hours.
They walked out of the club, and Jonathan’s driver was already waiting there, so they climbed into the vehicle. The limo drove them back downtown and dropped them outside Sabrina’s building, and they took the elevator to her top floor loft.
“I’ll get the glasses,” she said as they entered. “Go ahead and get comfy.”
Her father and Cross walked toward the couches as she went to the kitchen area. She was about to reach for the glasses in her cupboard when her phone rang. Huh. It was late for anyone to be calling. Who could it be? Grabbing her purse, she fished her phone out and read the name on the screen. “Barbara?” she read aloud. With a shrug, she picked up the call. “Hey, Barbara, what’s up?”
“Sabrina, doll!” Barbara’s nasal Brooklyn accent burst through the speaker, making her wince. The agent was boisterous and loud, but still, she loved the woman’s sass and confidence. “Are you sitting down?”
“What?”
“I said, are you sitting down?”
There wasn’t really anywhere to sit in her kitchen, so she leaned against the island. “Uh, sit down? Why?”
“Doll! I have the best news. I’m here in LA, right? And I’m talking to this gallery owner friend of mine. Well, he’s not really a friend, friend, more like a friend, friend. Ya know what I mean?”
Not really, but sometimes she didn’t know half the things the other woman said. “Yeah, sure.”
“Anyway, this guy knows everyone who’s anyone in LA. We were having dinner at the Beverly Hills Hotel and we run into these friends of his. We invite them to hang out with us, and I’m talking about what I do, and one of these guys asks me if I know any up-and-coming artists, and I say, ‘sure I do,’ and I whip out my phone and show him your paintings. And guess what?”
Frankly, she had only been half listening to what Barbara was saying because she kept one eye on her father and Cross in the living room. But wanting to get on with her night, she answered, “What, Barbara?”
