Awakenings (A Witch's Coven Novel Book 1) (8 page)

“I might not be too bright, but I’m not the dullest tool in the shed.” He put the flask away and smiled at me, and I could see his brown teeth stained from his tobacco use. “I’ll have a bit but share around. I learned my lesson from last time. I’ll see you both at one.” He walked off and went down to the servant’s entrance.

Stephen and I, arm in arm, headed to the front gate, and I knocked on the door. A surprised older man opened up and asked, “Is there a problem this evening that you need help?”

I had not expected an older servant to be on watch this late, and thought more of the younger staff would be on duty. I doubted that the spirits would work.

Stephen lowered his voice and leaned close to the man. “We are here to surprise the young master of the house with a visit to help cheer him up from his return from the front.”

“But at this late hour, my mistress will not allow that.”

Stephen took his hat off. “Daniel, it’s me, Stephen.” He leaned into the lantern’s light so that Daniel could get a good look at him. “You know the mistress is in bed now and would best not be disturbed.”

Before Daniel could reply, Stephen reached into my coat and pulled out one of the bottles and offered it to him.

A wide smile broke out on his face, and he grabbed the bottle from Stephen. “Where did you get this?”

I chimed in and said, “It is for you for all the great service you have done for the mistress.” Stephen and I pushed passed him as he lusted over the large bottle in his hands. “We will head to the young master’s room and keep quiet and will be away a little after midnight. The bottle should be plenty to keep you and your friends occupied for the evening.”

He looked as though a dragon’s hoard had been given to him. The war had been difficult with all spirits being rationed or saved for medicinal purposes. My house lord would not be pleased to know that I had stolen the bottles. He had plenty more hidden in the wine cellar and would not even miss these two, but if he learned of my theft, he would turn me out of the house. But sometimes, risks had to be taken for the greater good.

Daniel let us in and could barely close the door with the large bottle in his hands. “Yes, thank you. I will see to this and head off for the night. Stephen, you know the way to the young master’s room.”

Stephen smiled and led the way, holding me by the arm. He walked as fast as he dared, using his cane as a guide to help balance him through the house. When we arrived at Charles’ room, Stephen knocked.

“Yes?” Charles’ voiced appeared annoyed. “What is it that you want? I’m busy.”

Stephen pushed the door open, and I followed close behind. I stopped and put my hand over my mouth and tried to stifle a laugh. Charles had his pants down and his hands down his undergarments. When he saw us, he blushed and pulled his hand out and tried to pull his pants back up.

“What are you both doing here?” He stumbled over the words, trying to recover and be as natural as possible.

Stephen laughed. “I do apologize for intruding on you when you were ‘Crowning the King,’ but we thought you might need some company this evening to cheer you up.”

I pulled a bottle out of my coat and handed it to Charles. “I promised we would come, and we thought we would celebrate your return now that you’ve healed up a bit.” I averted my eyes and just offered him the bottle.

He accepted and laughed. “Yes, yes, please come in. I could use some company.”

I turned away while Stephen helped Charles pull up his pants and focused on the fire in the room. “Would you like me to put another log on?”

Charles scooted up in bed and finished making himself more presentable. “Yes, thank you.” He pointed across the room. “Stephen, grab three cups over there. Let’s have a drink.”

I added a log to the fire and then bounded over to sit on Charles’ bed. Stephen brought three glasses over, and using his cane with care, put the glasses on the bed by Charles. The fire sent flickers of red and orange light across the room, and we all took on a ruddy complexion. I jumped back up to pull a chair over for Stephen, and he sat down and stretched out his legs. He put his cane down and pointed over to the bottle. “Will you do the honors?”

Charles read the label and asked me, “Where did you get this?”

“I have my ways.” I put my glass out to him. “I thought it worth celebrating tonight.”

“With a bottle of whiskey that’s thirty years old?” He opened the bottle. “What exactly are we celebrating?”

Stephen leaned in and offered his glass to him as well. “Many things. Surviving this damn war and coming together. Let us celebrate us. Each of us and to new friendship.”

Charles poured a good bit of whiskey into my glass and did the same to Stephen. “To us!”

I shook my head and held my glass out. “Where’s your glass? It’s bad luck for us to drink without you.”

He grabbed his glass, and I took the bottle from him and poured him an ample amount. He held up his glass, and I watched the flickering firelight play in the crystal patterns. “Thank you for coming tonight. I needed some company.” He looked to Stephen and then to me. “To old friends and to new.”

We each drank the whiskey down straight, and it burned its way down. I pounded his mattress and thought my throat on fire, feeling the spirits burn through me. Smooth yet strong, I closed my eyes and twisted my body, but refused to cough. With teary eyes, I threw my head back and made a goofy sound. “Wow, that was strong!”

Charles coughed once into his hand. “I think it just fixed anything inside me that had been broken.”

Stephen shook his head and pounded his left thigh. “Why didn’t we have some of this before each battle? That would have motivated us in new ways.” He put his empty glass down on the nightstand next to Charles’ bed. “Damn, that was good.”

I don’t know why, but a part of me awoke that night, playful and free. I glanced over to the door and asked, “How safe are we here tonight?”

“Do you mean if anyone will come in to bother us?” Charles asked.

“Yes.” I could already feel the effects of the whiskey.

“My mother sleeps on another level of the house and she’ll be asleep by now. No one will bother me until morning unless I ring the bell.” He put his glass down and set the bottle on the nightstand. “What are you thinking, my lady?”

He smiled at me, and I knew that, if I were to risk it, I could help him forget his trouble for the evening. We would be young and free, unfettered, and in the morning light we would be different people. But in the dark night of a frigid winter, we were two boys and a girl. “Let us play a game.”

Charles laughed. “Do you wish to play some cards and win to humiliate me?”

“No, that is not the game that I wish to play. This is a game of fun and skill.” I folded my legs up under me and faced both of them.

Stephen put down his glass, curious. “What is the name of this game that you wish to play?”

“Risk or honesty.” I pretended that I had another bit of whiskey and sipped a few drops from the bottom of my glass.

Stephen’s right eyebrow rose. “The children’s game?”

I gave my glass back to Charles. “We are not children here. But it is a game that will test us beyond our years and show our true courage.” I turned to Stephen. “Are you game?”

“Me? I’m always up for some fun.” He scooted his chair closer to the bed, and then handed the whiskey to Charles.

“I like the sound of this game. But I’ve not played it since I was a boy. Start off easy with us.” Charles poured me another bit of whiskey and passed me back my glass.

“Who would like to start?” I took a sip, and over my glass I watched both of them. Charles squirmed, a bit shy and reserved.

Stephen raised his hand. “I’ll go first.”

“Thank you.” I took a sip of whiskey and asked, “Risk or honesty?”

“Risk.” The word rushed out of him. “Let’s start this night out right.”

Charles clapped his hands together. “Risk on the first try, I’m impressed. I don’t think I would have had the courage to do that.” He glanced over to me. “What’s your risk for him?”

“Give me his tumbler.” Stephen leaned over and handed me his glass, and I poured half of my whiskey into it. “Here, take this.”

He accepted the tumbler back. “Now what?”

“Balance it on your head and walk like you’re on a tightrope from here to the fireplace.” He frowned a bit, and I could see a flicker of shame cross his face.

“Can I use my cane?” he asked.

“No, you cannot!” I pointed across the room. “Come on, soldier, go!” I had seen him practice the exercises the doctor had given him, and this was one of them. He’d been trying to do this morning and night of each day, practicing and practicing.

He pushed himself up and out of the chair and stood straight. He glanced back at me and a flicker of fear crossed his face, but he stood tall and took a moment to balance the tumbler on his head.

Charles clapped his hands. “You can do it. Come on!”

Stephen took one step and placed it solidly on the ground and followed up like a man on a wire at a circus. He took his time with his arms out and made his way across the room toward the fire. Right before he reached the fireplace, his right leg nearly gave out, but he held strong and wavered a bit but kept his head straight. When he arrived at his destination, he took the glass off his head, and then shot the whiskey down his throat and turned back to us and bowed.

Charles and I applauded him as he limped back to his seat. I toasted him with my glass. “Fantastic! Now it is your turn.”

Stephen sat down and looked to his friend and asked, “Risk or honesty?”

Charles thought a moment and replied, “Honesty.”

I took another sip from my glass and then asked for more from Charles. He refilled all of our glasses, and Stephen waited before he asked, “Have you ever had amorous congress with a woman?”

I was in the process of swallowing some whiskey when Stephen asked his question and tried to laugh, but the whiskey came out my nose. I sprayed Charles’ bedspread with whiskey, and then started coughing. Charles and Stephen came to my aid, but I held them off. “What the hell is that?”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “My lady of the rags, I’m trying to be polite.”

“Are you asking if he ever fucked a girl?” I faced Stephen and stuck my tongue out at him.

Charles blushed and took another sip of whiskey to hide his embarrassment.

“Well, you could put it that way, but I was trying to be more sensitive to a man of his upbringing.” Stephen leaned forward and nudged his friend. “Well, ever been with a girl?”

Charles put down his drink and stared right at me and said, “No, I haven’t.”

Stephen clapped and patted Charles on the back. “I give you credit for telling the truth and not lying. I’m impressed.”

“We’re playing a game and I didn’t want to cheat.” He still did not take his eyes off of me and asked, “Risk or honesty?”

I pretended that I didn’t hear him and asked, “Are you asking me?”

“Yes, I am. Risk or honesty.” He took a big swig of whiskey and waited for me to answer.

I dipped my pinky finger in my whiskey, swirled it around, and then pulled it out and sucked the whiskey off. “Risk, of course.” I flashed a brilliant smile at him and stared him down. There was no use holding my cards now. I wanted him, and the whiskey eased any inhibitions I once had.

“Good, a risk. Let me think.” He kept staring at me, and I leaned forward to show him a little bit of my cleavage. He was lost in thought for a few moments, and then pointed to Stephen. “I want you to kiss him like he’s your boyfriend who’s just come home from the war.”

I shot a quick concerned glance at Stephen, and he shrugged at me, willing to play along. “Come on over here, my lady of the rags, and let me kiss you good!”

I stood up off Charles’ bed and took a step and wobbled. The whiskey had hit me faster than I had expected. I caught myself from falling by grabbing the side of Charles’ bed, and both of them laughed at me. Stephen patted his lap, and I placed myself there and wrapped my arms around him and kissed him right on the mouth. I exaggerated the kiss, pushing Stephen back in his seat and pretended to kiss him deep and long, but all the while I kept my eyes open and stared at Charles. I let him watch me and let him drink in all of me. Stephen played along and he finally pushed me off. “You she-devil, I can’t breathe! Get off of me.” He pushed me off and I fell back onto Charles’ bed.

Charles caught me, and I rolled over onto my back and then kicked my legs up into the air, threw up my arms, wiggled my whole body, and then pretended to be dead. He glanced over to Stephen and asked, “Do you think she’s still alive?”

Stephen reached for his cane and, prodded me, but I stayed motionless. “I think my kiss has killed her. It was so horrible that she needs her prince to kiss her and wake her up.”

Charles bent over and tried to tickle me, but I resisted and refused to laugh. “You are right. Where do you think her prince is?”

Stephen took his cane and hit Charles lightly in the back of the head. “You’re her prince, you dimwit. Kiss her!”

I held my breath and kept my eyes closed, waiting for Charles’ kiss. There was a moment in which I could feel my heart beating fast, and I wasn’t certain if he would come to me or not. But then he bent over me and pulled me to him and kissed me lightly on the lips. I could taste the whiskey on his lips, and his kiss was soft and tentative. I fluttered my eyes and opened them and stared back into his blue eyes. His blond hair hung over his face and he looked at me like a boy who had just had his first kiss. I let my legs and arms fall to the bed, and then came to life and kissed him back.

Stephen stood up and balanced himself with his cane. I glanced at him and for a brief moment saw a pained expression cross his face. He limped toward the door with the bottle of whiskey under his arm and tried to make a graceful exit.

“Where are you going?” Charles sat up and pushed me away.

A look of longing crossed Stephen’s face, but he smiled and said, “I forgot something in the kitchen. I’ll head down there and go get it.”

“Stay with us, don’t go,” Charles said.

I took my cue from Stephen’s body language and chimed in. “Charles, let him go to the kitchen if he wants to go.”