Authors: Marilu Mann
Mari smiled even as she realized her father had lost his mind. He’d always emphasized the difference between stage magic and what he called real magick by adding the letter “k”.
“I have left you several important keys along with some written instructions. I have also left Rosier here with you. Ignore his surliness, he can be very instructive. Rosier 9
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will remain with the house, even after you depart, so be careful with your treatment of him. Though he looks human, he is a powerful being, and it is in his nature to lie and to try to trick you. Don’t believe everything he tells you.” Rubbing a hand through his thinning hair and adjusting the wire-framed glasses perched on his nose, he sighed.
Mari hit the pause button. Her father stared back at her, caught on screen in a posture she remembered well, though his shoulders drooped in a way she didn’t recognize. For just a moment, she wished she could rewind time, make more of an effort to contact him. With another sigh, she hit the play button.
Augustus looked over his shoulder, shaking his head at someone or something behind him. He turned back to the camera. “It’s time, my darling child. Time for you to take up the mantle of your powers and learn more about your heritage. Time for you to begin your training and become the witch you should have been all along. Use caution, my dear. Remember, you have always had my love. To protect you and your brother, I locked you both away from your power. I had hoped to be there for both of you but now I know I cannot. I have left instructions for you throughout the house. The first key can be found in the master bedroom. The other two keys will reveal themselves to you in time. Thank you for coming home. And Marielle?”
She stopped the tape again. Mari spared a muttered expletive for her missing brother. If he hadn’t disappeared, maybe he would be the one sitting here trying to absorb the fact that their father was apparently a paranoid delusional. Drawing in a deep breath, she hit the play button one more time.
Her father’s image started moving again. She couldn’t get past the initial shock that her father had gone off his rocker. Augustus leaned toward the camera, his expression serious, his voice lowering. “My darling child—this is most important. My enemies would love to have this house and access to our family power. This cannot happen. You must guard against them. You must particularly be on guard against James LaPierre. I am out of time, my darling girl. I know this may be hard for you to understand. I’m sorry. Find the keys to your power, my daughter.”
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The video ended as her father finally gave her the smile she remembered then abruptly muttered a word that sounded like no language she knew and vanished.
Stunned, Mari rewound the tape only to hear the sound of sizzling from the VCR.
A faint bluish smoke wafted out as she yanked the tape free. It was no good. The case was cool but the reels were completely free of any brown ribbon that might allow her to go back over what her father said.
“Oh how very
Mission Impossible
, Dad. Could you have been any more of a freak?”
A tear escaped. She swiped at it with a hurried movement. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail with one hand then let it drop again. “I don’t know what this is all about, Dad. I thought your tape was going to give me information I needed. Now what?
Dammit, Marcus. This should be your problem not mine.”
Leaning her chin on her fist, Mari tried to list what she knew. Unfortunately the list of what she didn’t know was far longer. She heaved a sigh as she realized she might as well head for the master bedroom and see what her father meant by keys. Probably to a safe with useless stocks or maybe Confederate money—nothing valuable. Then maybe she could just turn everything over to the surly hottie and go back to her own life. It might be a bit boring, but at least she hadn’t inherited the craziness she’d just seen in her father.
Having completely forgotten about Mr. Burns, Mari drew up short as she opened the door to his slightly musty smell. The lawyer leaned leaning against the opposite wall. As soon as he saw her, he straightened and cleared his throat.
“Is everything all right, Miss Greenlea?”
The man had a wary look in his eye. Mari imagined if he knew anything about her father’s weirdness, he was probably waiting for her to run. But she was her mother’s daughter. If she’d learned anything from her mom, it was the art of delay and distract.
“I suppose so, Mr. Burns. If you don’t mind, however, I’d like to just explore the house on my own for a bit. Would it be convenient for me to come to your office tomorrow or later in the week to discuss the rest of my father’s will?”
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“Of course, I am at your service. I left my card for you in the library. Just call and come by whenever you wish.” With another murmured condolence, the stodgy older man left. Mari let the front door support her for a moment, then glanced up the stairs.
Somewhere up there was another mystery she had to figure out. Just who exactly was Rosier and what was his purpose in her father’s house?
With one hand clutching the round locket that nestled at her throat and the other trailing on the wood banister, Mari started slowly up the stairs. Her father had given her the locket on her sixth birthday, the last time her family had all been together. She’d rediscovered his gift in her mother’s jewelry box two years ago.
When she’d touched it, her skin had tingled. She’d put it back where she found it, but had given in to the overwhelming need to put it on. Holding it gave her a feeling of calm that had helped her through her mother’s death. Without Marcus there, she’d been a wreck, so anything that settled her a bit helped.
The stairs were familiar old friends. She smiled as the fourth step from the bottom creaked when her foot struck it. The last one from the top still had a scratch in the wood from where Marcus had dragged his ice skate across it.
Six closed doors, three on each side of the hall, and an open door at the opposite end of the hallway from where she stood, held memories. She knew four of the closed doors led to bedrooms, one to a shared bath for the last two bedrooms on the left and the open door led to the master suite. The largest four bedrooms each had a private bath. It surprised Mari that she could remember it all so well.
Mari’s childhood room had been the second door on the right and her brother’s the first on the left. Resisting the urge to open those doors to see if her father had kept things the way they were when they’d left, Mari headed straight for the master suite.
Before she reached it, however, the last bedroom on the right caught her attention.
Light shone from under the closed door. She could hear, almost feel, the beat of music coming from the room. Tapping on the door, she waited a moment, then knocked a bit 12
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harder. The door was yanked open from the inside and every question Mari had for him went right out of her mind.
Rosier stood there, hair tousled and one hand on the edge of the door, the other on the doorframe as though to block her way. That wasn’t what had her so tongue-tied, though. It was the man himself. He’d taken off the black t-shirt and the first two buttons on his black jeans were unbuttoned. Mari had a hard time not staring at the vee of skin exposed there. When she did manage to drag her eyes back up to his handsome face, it was to see the same pissed-off expression he’d sported downstairs.
“So, all your questions answered, then?”
“Not hardly. My father was never the most forthcoming man. I still don’t know who you are or why you’re here.”
“Ask.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re the new owner of this house. If you command me to tell you the truth and ask the correct questions, I can answer them.”
“Wait…command you?” Mari wondered if he shared her father’s craziness.
“Yes, command me to tell you the truth. As the owner of this house, you have that right.”
“Fine.” Crossing her arms over her chest, Mari stared straight into Rosier’s green eyes. “I command you to tell me the truth. Were you and my father lovers?”
For a moment Rosier didn’t even seem to be breathing, then he burst into laughter.
He stepped back, one arm wrapped over his stomach, the other still holding onto the doorframe. He laughed until tears ran down his cheeks and his breath hitched. Mari propped her hands on her hips and tapped her foot, her eyes narrowing. Rosier finally brought himself back under control, wiping his face with one hand and pressing the other to his side as though he had a stitch.
“No, no. Your father and I were not lovers. In fact, I loathed the man.”
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“If that’s true, then why are you still here and why are you stuck with the house?”
“I am bound to this house until I earn my release.”
She wondered at his emphasis on the last word, but she had more pressing concerns. “Very well, my father has just informed me in the video that he was a witch.
Was he crazy?”
“No.”
Mari rubbed her forehead. “Okay, prove it. Prove to me he was a witch.”
“I cannot.”
“What do you mean? I command you to prove he was a witch.”
A snort answered her. The damn man was laughing at her again.
“You’re just as weird as he was, aren’t you?”
He clipped out one syllable. “More.”
His brief answers were ticking her off. “What are you, then?”
“I am a fallen angel, more commonly known as a demon although it’s more complicated than that. Your father captured me. He bound me to this house until I gain my release.”
Mari stared at him for a moment. “Right. Okay, obviously the truth portion of the evening has ended. Excuse me. I have some sort of key or something to find.”
She whirled around and practically ran to the end of the hallway, shoving the door open and slamming it behind her. She leaned against the smooth wood. “Witches, fallen angels, demons and some old cranky lawyer who smells like mothballs. Just what my life needed. Thanks, Dad.”
Debating about whether to just pack up and leave, Mari shook her head. She was already here, so why not see what the evening and morning would bring. Besides, her curiosity drove her to try to figure out if her father was completely bonkers or if he could have been telling the truth. Her mother had always said her father was “a little off”, she figured she might as well find out how bad it really was. With a sigh, she 14
Sex and Trouble
turned the light on and caught her breath. Her father’s message said the master bedroom was hers now. But how had he known what her taste was?
Things had changed since her parents had split up. Back then her room had been decorated in shades of pink and cream. Now her favorite color was blue, the blue of the ocean, and this room was that exact shade. A comforter in a paler blue shade lay over the queen-sized bed. A dresser, headboard and nightstand in a light wood graced the room. A lamp sat on the nightstand with a small red leather journal beside it. The lacy curtains on the windows were white while the rug under her feet was thick and soothing. Paintings of the ocean adorned two walls and bookshelves lined the short passage leading to the walk-in closet.
A small carved jewelry box sat on the dresser. Mari opened it. The only thing inside was a ring with a red stone. Picking it up, she tried it on, but it didn’t fit. She decided it was too masculine for her, anyway. “Must have been Dad’s.” She stuck it in her pocket, then headed into the bathroom.
When this had been her parents’ room, the bathroom had been done in black and white. Now it was a similar to the bedroom, a lovely pale blue with green and white accents. The garden tub looked very inviting, but she turned her back on it for the moment. The fact that her father seemed to know what would please her when they hadn’t even spoken in so long gave her chills, which she staunchly ignored. Unpacking should probably be her first priority, then sleep. After that she’d tackle both the annoying man down the hall and her father’s insanity. Witches and demons, indeed.
Rosier stood outside the master bedroom with his hands on the door panels.
Marielle Greenlea was not at all what he expected. Truly, he’d envisioned a female version of her father, short, round and dark with an aura of power any first-level demon could sense. Instead he’d come face to face with a gorgeous blonde with the most beautiful brown eyes he’d ever seen in a human face. Her golden skin tones, 15
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generous lips and truly awe-inspiring curves nearly had him on his knees agreeing to anything she asked of him.
Being a demon of sexual pleasure meant he had a very high sex drive and was very easily aroused. It took every ounce of his considerable will and some long-buried anger to keep his body from reacting to the woman now wandering around on the other side of the door. Truly, Augustus Greenlea had produced an amazingly beautiful daughter.
Her mother must have been a stunning woman and Marielle certainly must have gotten her looks from her mother.
With a sigh, Rosier pushed away from the closed door. Was it his fault Marielle hadn’t believed him? He was bound to the house and compelled to obey the owner of the house. Had she ordered him to go to his knees and pleasure her until morning, he’d have gladly complied. Had she commanded him to follow her into the bedroom and spend the next several hours until daylight bringing her to ecstasy again and again, he’d have done so with glee. But even though she’d demanded that he tell her the truth, she hadn’t believed him.
He would have to show her the truth. Keys she wanted? Very well, then, keys he’d help her find. He’d learned more about witches than he’d ever really wanted to know from his now-deceased captor. Power could be locked away so keys had to be created to unlock that energy. After all, Augustus had used Ros’ strength and knowledge of the ethereal plane on more than one occasion. How much more difficult would it be to work with someone like Marielle? At least he would have something pleasant to look at while they worked together.