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Besides, the more I thought about it, I’d spent the last few days running away. If you added in the years that Celia and I were on the move, it was almost twenty years of hiding with no end in sight. I was heartily sick of it and more importantly, I didn't want anyone else to be hurt because of me.

As much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, I was partly responsible for the death of my father and all the guards killed the last few days. Wretchedly, I knew that my mother and Taryn were in danger or already dead because of me and I was the only one that could help them.

I turned back and saw that the lights were on in the house. In every window, upstairs and down, light glowed warmly cutting through the coastal fog making the house look like a giant lantern. My bare feet crunched painfully on sharp edged rocks and pine needles as I walked slowly, back to the house. I could feel the blood draining from my face and my heart rate sped up the closer I got.

This is the right thing to do I told myself frantically. What else was there? I was out of options, I might be able to help Taryn and my mother this way. My hands shook a little and I clenched them at my sides as I moved carefully towards the double doors that opened onto the dining room.

I took shallow breaths to control my emotions, but it didn't help and I felt a tide of rage, hatred and fear rising. A shout rang out as I neared the doors and I watched, as if from a WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 117

distance, as the door was thrust open and two flack jacketed men rushed out at me.

Their hands gripped my shoulders and they were rough and careless as they pulled me towards the door. My feet were dragged over the ground and I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out at the abuse I was taking. They laughed and talked over my head about 'capturing the prize.'

I tried to keep my head at eye level not wanting to see any dead bodies, but almost against my will, my eyes dropped to the floor as they pulled me around the edge of the table to the living room. A long smear of blood ran from the doorway of the kitchen on the left out to the white carpet of the sunken living room, but there was no body immediately visible and I could only hope that whoever left the smear of blood had somehow managed to get away.

I was roughly pushed onto the sofa and Hugo’s men took up positions behind me as I sat on the edge of my seat, waiting for him to arrive.

A cool voice interrupted their boisterous banter, “Shut up and secure the perimeter. Do I have to do everything around here?”

The question was clearly rhetorical and the men with quiet, 'yes, sir's,' hurried from the room. I didn't turn my head to look at him. I recognized his voice from the night before. It had a vague continental accent, as if he had spent time in many countries in his long life and picked up a vestige of accent from all of them.

He stopped in front of me and I refused to look away as he studied me with a critical eye,

“You look like your father; the same hair and skin. You're tall too, sturdy. Your mother's a good breeder, I expect you will be too. You're young enough to get seven or eight babies out of you before your hips give out.”

Was he going to check my teeth, or look in my ears now? I didn't have a response to what he said, so I didn’t say anything. He was dressed in white again. A caricature of a southern aristocrat's Sunday best, with a waistcoat, black string tie and a gold pocket watch looping across his flat belly.

“Colonel Sanders called, he wants his suit back.” I was being a bitch, but it was an improvement over groveling for him.

He laughed, but the humor didn't reach his eyes. Here was a man that didn't find many reasons to chuckle and even less reasons to be merciful. I reminded myself that being a smart ass would get me nowhere with him.

“Where's my mother and Taryn?” My voice had the slightest quaver to it and I met his eyes squarely as I asked him.

“Well, that depends on you Anna. Or, do you prefer Amelie?” His face was all courtesy and ease as he said this, like we were two old chums, chatting over coffee.

“Explain what you mean, please? Have you hurt them? Are they dead?”

He rocked back on his heels as if I had mortally wounded him, “I would never hurt a woman. Someone has been telling tales, I think.”

I wanted to ask about Gage, Laurent and the Coalition's attack on his Idaho compound, but, I could be giving away their surprise attack and putting them in danger so I held my tongue.

But I had to wonder what he was doing here, when he was supposed to be in Idaho getting his ass handed to him by some seriously angry witches, warlocks and werewolves.

“I can almost hear the wheels turning, my dear. You are wondering why I am here. Why am I not at home in Idaho waiting to be attacked by your fiancé and his friends, hmm?”

My stomach churned and my breath escaped my lungs as if I had been knocked to the WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 118

ground. He knew. Oh God, he knew it all.

“Well, you can keep wondering, I wont say. I love secrets. Especially secrets that play out in my favor and believe me, this is a good one.” He chuckled at his own joke and my heart was pounding as I waited to hear what else he had to say.

“I have a nice little surprise all set up for Gage, Gerald and your brother Laurent, too.

Yes, I know he joined them yesterday. Your Aunt Celia watched as he left the house to join the others in Seattle. This has been a very profitable weekend for me.”

His hands smoothed over his waistcoat with a practiced movement and I lunged up from the couch. My hands reaching for him before my conscious mind had caught up with my body.

I saw his eyes widen in shock and I was able to get in one heavy slap to the side of his face before he pushed me away. My knee hit the edge of the coffee table as I made a grab for his foot while I fell. I felt the fine linen pull as I held on and he drew back and kicked me while yelling for his men. I didn't scream or cry when his foot landed a second time on the inside of my thigh.

A pain like lightening ran up the inside of my leg and I was so intent on trying to drag him to the floor that I didn't hear anyone come up behind me until strong hands plucked me from the floor and pulled me back from him. I screamed so loud, fire raced up my throat and my arms strained to reach him when he moved back a step with a loathsome smirk stretching his face.

My breath came out in excited wheezes. Hugo's face had a dark pink hand print on the side of it now and I felt fiercely glad to have been able to land at least one good blow. My rage had caused a leaking of magic and I watched as all the candles on the mantle melted and the art above the fireplace caught fire. With a lazy movement, Hugo waved his hand and the flames were extinguished.

I tried to pull away from the man holding me, but his arms were tight vises over my own and the more I struggled the more he squeezed until I gave a breathless cough and let my head roll forward in defeat.

Just to tease me Hugo stepped closer, goading me to try for him again, but I couldn't move and he knew it. He clapped his hands in glee and looked me over with satisfaction.

“What a challenge you will be to tame. But, you can be a lady, can't you Anna?”

Hugo's question seemed incomprehensible to me but I gave a small nod as his henchman squeezed me so hard,I felt a sharp pain in my ribs. He gave me a small grin and patted me on the arm. I flinched away, but he didn't seem to notice.

“I knew you could. Your Aunt, she raised you right. Brought you up to know your place in the world?”

He nodded his head in satisfaction and looked me over. I wasn't sure what he saw that made his face wrinkle up into a smile. My heart was breaking over Gage, Laurent and everyone else who attacked Hugo's compound.

“So here's the rub, I think you are a very forceful young woman. A little too hysterical perhaps, it's not your fault, it's the fatal flaw in all women. Their emotions are stronger than their intellect, reason takes a back seat to sentiment. They are the weaker sex, after all.”

“But I can work with that. I require three things from you.” He was pacing as he said this and stopped suddenly and turned to me, his face expectant.

Did he expect me to guess what the three things were? My mind was in turmoil, part shock that this was happening and the other part angry that I was helpless to stop it.

“Trust, love and acceptance. That's all. Then you will be ready to take your place in my WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 119

coven,” Hugo said with a gentle smile and spread his arms wide like he was going to embrace me.

I shrank at the thought of him touching me again. His words flowed so smoothly, it sounded like a well practiced sermon but it washed over me in an incomprehensible wave because all I could think of was Gage. Gage dead and gone forever. His body beginning to rot in some shallow, unmarked grave.

Hugo was making grand sweeping gestures with his hands as he laid out his plans, the state of the world in general and his thoughts on me and other women in particular. Uh oh, I had a bad feeling about what exactly that place in his coven would be and if he thought I would go along with it, he was crazier than a crackhead in a house of mirrors.

“Two, maybe three months dear one and you will be ready to bear the seed of the coven and bring forth the chosen children.” I almost gagged at the thought of it.

His eyes strayed to my abdomen and a speculative expression came over him, “Of course, I will have to make sure you aren't carrying Gage's brat. I don't want any cuckoo's to spoil the nest, if you take my meaning?”

At that moment I knew that if I was pregnant, I would do anything to save our child. I couldn't allow a monster like Hugo to touch my baby.

“That wasn't the plan Hugo!” Celia screeched from the bottom step as she hurried into the room.

She was wearing a pink and gray twin set with matching pants and would not have

seemed out of place at a church social. Her hair was smooth and tidy and her makeup lightly and expertly applied as usual. My hands curled and I felt the sharp pain of my fingernails digging into my palms as I watched her stride into the room.

I was so angry, I felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. Everything about her was hateful. Her tiny feet in suede half boots, her dimpled cheeks, even the way she walked, her short legs mincing across the room, pissed me off. If all was right with the world I would have a few minutes alone with her to settle our differences. There wouldn't be much talking either.

Hugo ignored her to say something to one of his guards. Celia flushed red then white as he continued his conversation as if she hadn't spoken.

“Hugo, that wasn't the plan!” She reiterated to his back. My eyes glanced between them, I tried to catch her eye, but she was focused on Hugo.

His back was turned to her and he continued talking, like he hadn't heard her. With an annoyed sigh, she walked up to him and grabbed his arm, giving it a little shake.

“Don't ignore me you petty, old ….” I didn't see where he pulled the gun from, but with a quick movement for an older man, he turned the gun on her and for a split second I thought he was just going to wave it at her for effect, but with a loud crack, crack! He fired twice. The first shot hit her lower abdomen, pushing her back and down to the floor. The second shot clipped her shoulder as she lay on her back with arms and legs akimbo.

There was so much blood, it soaked into the plush white rug and spread out in a star shape on the front of her jacket. She was crumpled on the floor just a few feet from me and I struggled to get to her. She had betrayed me so many times. Lied and stolen me from my family, but she was the only mother I had ever known. I felt a tightness in my chest as I watched her. She lay so still with the red stain on her front growing larger with each passing second.

Her head turned to me and she mouthed something, but I couldn't be sure what she was trying to say. I strained to get closer, but the guard holding me was strong and I swung my heels WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 120

back fruitlessly, trying to hit his shins hard enough to get him to let me go. But he had tall boots on and with my bare feet I ended up hurting myself more than him.

I gave up and tried to focus on what Hugo was saying when I heard a high feminine scream from above. This was followed by the sound of glass breaking and I heard my mother upstairs shout, 'Taryn, nooo!'

Hugo smothered a curse and shouted up the stairs, “What the hell is going on up there?”

A heartbeat later, one of the guards appeared at the top of the stairs and said, “the Were bitch threw herself out a window!”

He looked dazed as he said this and jumped when Hugo roared, “well go and grab her you moron before she runs away.”

“Boss, she fell on her back. It must of been, like fifteen, mebbe twenty feet. No one could survive that and run off,” he raised his hands in a beseeching manner.

A long sigh issued from Hugo, before he said, “she's a werewolf, dimwit. She could survive a fifty foot drop, okay? Now, go grab her before I shoot your leg off and make you crawl after her!”

Hugo was muttering to himself as three guards raced down the stairs and out through the back door.

“Now you see why I need you so much. We need new blood, my followers are stupid and impulsive. It's not my fault, they come of inferior stock, there's nothing I can do to fix that.”

He had a rueful smile on his face and I had to look away and bite my lip before I said something rude.

“I see that you do not approve. Women never do. You only see the present, never the future. You are like the grasshopper, wasting the summer instead of preparing for winter.

Warlocks are the future and I will lead the way.”

“Listen, if you let me go now, I wont hold a grudge, okay? But if you insist on taking me with you, someday, when your back is turned, I'll kill you,” I didn't add that I would kill myself before letting him or his men rape me.

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