Chapter Five
“Addie-May and I will be going by car to assist Emesh and Enten in retrieving Kate,” Dorian let Marduk know as a simple courtesy. The warlock had already determined he and his wife-witch would be the ones to drive Kate home.
Emesh and Enten hadn’t brought a car―which Dorian used as a situational excuse for the trip―but in actuality, his Addie-May was nearly out of her mind worrying about Kate. And regardless of popular opinion around the compound, Dorian felt it deeply when his witch became upset.
“I’m not sure that’s wise,” the head god replied, steepling his fingers in front of his chin. “I’ve managed to keep the entire household off your back where Addie’s concerned, but if you take her away from the compound, I’ll most assuredly be faced with anarchy.”
Dorian understood the situation…but it wouldn’t stop him. Everyone believed he treated Addie like shit, but the truth twisted into way more complicated paths than that.
He had married the witch/human/Lorelei hybrid in 1963, and his love for her had been beyond anything he’d ever experienced in his more than two thousand years of living. They’d been blissful, had a child―Angie, now a grown woman―and Dorian had marveled at how vibrant and full of color life could be. Then Addie-May blindsided him and ripped out his heart.
Angie had turned eight when Addie started acting strangely. It presented rapidly, her change in demeanor. She wouldn’t let him touch her, she barely ate, and finally his witch became so withdrawn, Dorian feared for her life. He puzzled, agonizingly, over the cause. He urged her to talk. And she finally did.
Dorian never expected Addie’s revelation—that she’d fallen out of love with him. He became adamant she was wrong…perhaps depressed instead. He made her see physicians, human and other-worldly, but not one of them found any sign of depression.
Eventually, Dorian believed Addie. She had fallen out of love. He could hardly fathom it, but his wife’s obvious misery told a different story. Nothing he could do or say helped, so in the end, he did the only thing possible. He left. His heart shattered into pieces. Dorian figured it would only be a matter of time before she realized her folly and called him back. He waited…and waited. When it didn’t happen, he admitted defeat.
It had been difficult, even for him, to procure a divorce. The witch council always made things difficult, but by making a few concessions, along with his agreement to join their august board, he had severed legal ties to Addie. He remained crushed. Unable to put his hurt feelings behind, but with nothing else to fill his life, he’d used the ensuing years to build up power and strength. Dorian became a warlock to fear. He became known throughout the covens as a harsh and unyielding presence.
Dorian hadn’t seen Addie or their daughter again. Not until earlier this year when she’d finally called on him. Swallowing her pride, she’d asked if he would join forces with the gods in the Blue Hills to help his granddaughter Lenore, a Chosen to the god Anshar, before her mate and his friends could be sent to Hell. He agreed.
She’d summoned him, at long last, and he would have the last word.
To say the couple’s reunion had been painful was an understatement. In the forty-two years Dorian had been gone, Addie had aged. She had the appearance of a seventy-year-old woman and would barely look at him. He, on the other hand, hadn’t changed a bit and didn’t care what she looked like. Damn her to Hell, she was his mate, and buried under his anger, love still kindled. But his ire over the whole fucked up relationship could not be denied, and at first, he could barely speak to her. He wanted to shake her, hurt her as she had hurt him…or hug her to his chest with every ounce of strength he possessed.
He became aware―after not too many days―that because of his nearness and the undeniable connection between them, Addie-May slowly began reverse aging. It amused him to watch, especially since Addie had yet to figure it out. If any of their house-mates noticed, they hadn’t said a word. Dorian figured as long as he continued to live under the same roof and wanted her, Addie’s regression would continue until she ended up back to the age when they had parted company. Twenty-eight years old.
The irony and mind-fuck of the whole situation hadn’t hit him completely until the day he overheard Addie talking to his cousin, Obedience. Her words were nothing he’d ever expected to hear, and the sudden roaring in his head had made him want to rip open the top of his skull.
“I started to look older…, …only a matter of time…, …I’d seen the way women gazed at Dorian…, …I never stopped loving him. I love him still.”
Dorian had gone postal. His smothered, hysterical laughter had scared even him. She’d ruined their lives with a lie and with…vanity? One day she’d peered at herself in the mirror and decided she looked old? Old. At twenty-eight. If she’d come to him…trusted him, she would have found that her aging process had nearly come to a stop. Every witch―no matter how diluted their lines―mated to a full-blooded immortal, ceased their aging process around the human age of thirty.
If he’d known her fears! If she had only talked to him.
But still, he felt betrayed. How could she have done it? Renounced her love, instead of trusting in it? When Dorian overheard her present-day confession, he had been shredded anew, and darkly vowed then and there to make her pay for every gut-wrenching year he’d had to spend away from his family. He’d sneered. After all, Addie had turned him into the hard, unrelenting warlock he eventually became, she should be the one reaping the benefits of that ruthlessness.
The upside of becoming so powerful? He always got his own way…always. And because of that, when he petitioned the rest of the witch council to swap his cousin Bee-Dee’s divorce with a reinstatement of his own marriage, the old biddies on the board had no choice but to titteringly agree.
So here they were. Married again and this time, it would take the finality of death to separate them.
He only foresaw one problem. He had a difficult time keeping up his charade of coldness. So far, he’d done an okay job, practically alienating the gods who had previously befriended him. Not to mention their goddess wives, who made their displeasure abundantly known.
Of the group, Marduk had managed to maintain his aplomb, waiting to see what Dorian would do next. And Obedience, his cousin, remained as warm as ever, clearly full of faith that Dorian’s head would eventually come out of his ass. But Dorian put on a good show. He wouldn’t cave too soon.
For the past several days, he’d kept Addie under a semi-spell where he had her performing his every wish. It remained highly illegal to have one’s mate under such a thrall but let someone try to take him to task on it. She deserved the distress. Or so he thought. In truth, the more subservient Addie became, the less happy it made him. First, it hurt him terribly to see her miserable. Secondly, the witch he’d fallen for many years ago had been impudent and blasphemous. He didn’t like this zombie he’d created. He wanted his vibrant wife back.
Since understanding her pain became his, he’d slowly eased off on the hex he’d placed. He’d attempted to be civil and engage her about her friend, Kate, and questioned Addie at length about the woman. Finding that his wife had actually been helping to alleviate the woman’s deteriorating condition, he felt a surge of pride at her accomplishment. Apparently she’d happened upon a combination of herbs and spells that had stimulated Kate’s cerebral cortex into making new connections, connections that might eventually bring her back from the illness which threatened to swallow her up.
Dorian had gravely promised his help with her endeavor when they got Kate back to safety.
Ashamed of himself at the gratitude Addie-May had shown, he realized what a shit he’d been. He’d used Addie badly for the past few days...but he’d make it up to her by bringing Kate home.
“Just tell Ishkur we want the keys,” Dorian told Marduk, turning his mind back to the task at hand. “If the twins haven’t found her yet, I can lend my expertise.”
“If you give me a minute, I’ll contact them and see what’s happening. They found Glory’s brother you know.” Marduk let that slip, and Dorian showed appropriate surprise. No one had expected it. Kate hadn’t been delusional after all. The thunder god held up a finger to still any questions.
Dorian witnessed Marduk travel to his inner space to contact the far away deities. The thunder god’s face clouded, his forehead creased in consternation. Within the next few seconds, the normally in-control immortal looked like he’d blow a gasket. Dorian didn’t like it. What the hell was going on?
Marduk picked up a pen to jot down an address, then glowered and paused to write another. Times like these Dorian wished he could connect to the god-head-network, but those neural pathways didn’t belong to him, like it or not.
When Marduk’s eyes refocused, Dorian could hold back no longer.
“What in hell…?”
“That’s right.” The god ran a hand back through his thick, dark hair, looking far from pleased. “What in hell is an appropriate question,” he agreed. “Douglas, that’s Glory’s brother, has led our guys to an address where he suspects Kate might have gone. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Enten, but Emesh is in a world of shit. The doctor once in charge of Douglas’ care in a state facility? He’s not even remotely human.”
“What is he, then?” Dorian’s brows came together in a scowl. Some other-worlders could be nasty beyond imagining, and never easy to deal with.
“That’s the problem. Emesh isn’t sure. The doctor could be an unidentified demon species, a bogeyman, or the undead. All he knows is that the guy’s got the smell of the bad part of the Underworld on him.” Marduk turned the paper around to Dorian and slid it across his desk. “Here’s the address. It’ll take you two hours to get there. He says if there’s a blue tractor out front, come in and be very careful. If the truck is gone, they’ve headed back to Douglas’ house.” He stabbed the paper. “That’s the second address.”
“Shouldn’t we all just show up and bust the whole situation wide open?” Dorian didn’t want to piss-ass around. A pile of gods with some witch back-up could do some serious damage.
“Emesh is afraid too much god energy encroaching might endanger Kate. So far, the doctor hasn’t picked up on Emesh’s immortality and is treating him with the right amount of unconcerned disdain. He wants to keep it that way. Emesh says Enten is having an invisible look around and also trying to stay off-grid. Hence, his communication shut-down.”
Dorian still didn’t like it.
“My inclination is to leave Addie behind and pop in on the situation, warlock style,” Dorian suggested.
“Not necessary,” Marduk assured him. “If Emesh sends a mayday, I’ll give you a call. Keep your phone handy, and we’ll all show up at the same time, bringing our own brand of trouble.”
Finally, a plan Dorian could get his head around.
“And don’t forget,” Marduk continued. “We still need a car out there to get Kate home. Ishkur is in the garage. He’s been told not to give you shit about spiriting Addie away from the house.”
Dorian nodded at Marduk and left the office. He wasted no time but spelled himself back to the cottage where he’d kept Addie waiting. With barely a word in her direction, besides an order barked to pack a small bag, he collected his own effects and steered them toward the basement of the main house. It took no time before he had a big-ass, American gas-hog of a convertible on the Mass Pike.
****
Twenty miles into the trip, Addie finally dared speak. “What are we going to find when we get there?” She could barely make her voice heard above the sound of wind whipping through the breaches in the old vinyl top, but she hadn’t spoken with much force, either. Addie grimaced at her timidity. She’d made the conscious decision to remain docile with Dorian, but to feel actual fear? Hard to swallow. She’d spent her entire life being a strong, independent woman and now, with the way her husband treated her, bye-bye backbone.
Addie stole a glance at the man who had once loved her with all of his being. His hard, cold face told her nothing. But looking at him continually brought back feelings she’d mourned as long dead and stirred parts of her she’d suppressed for decades. That he still moved her so, made her heart wring with sadness because what did she, a seventy-year-old woman, have to give a young-bodied, vibrant warlock? And that begged the bigger question. Why had he tied himself to her for the final ten or twenty years of her life? She’d been asking herself that for days. His cold, hard voice, when he answered, made her shiver.
“Emesh and Enten have found Kate’s son, Douglas, and have accompanied him to a doctor’s office where he suspects Kate might be stashed. The problem they’ve found is that the guy calling himself a physician is not human.”
“Oh, no,” Addie-May gasped. “Then what is he?” A greater fear than that of Dorian gripped the witch’s body. Her friend Kate would have trouble dealing with a difficult human, and wouldn’t have a chance against an immortal. Addie jumped when Dorian’s hand-picked up her cold one off the seat between them.
“Don’t worry. Whatever he is, the twins will take care of it or call for back-up. Marduk’s putting everyone on alert.” The warlock looked over at her. “We’ll probably be the first on the scene.” Did his lip twitch? “I’d tell you to stay in the car, but I’m pretty sure you’d ignore me.”
Surely Dorian joked. Since he removed the spell that had her doing his every bidding, Addie had consciously continued to remain subservient, figuring it would make both their lives easier. He would gain a servant, and she’d live out the rest of her days near him which is all she wanted. So why did he poke at her now?
“I’ll do whatever you tell me to, Dorian.” She called on all of her fortitude to force those words past her lips, lowering her head in case he recognized the defiant gleam in her eyes. Dammit. She would not be the one to rock the boat. Addie acknowledged she’d ruined Dorian’s life once. She wouldn’t disappoint him again. The warlock seemed almost frustrated with her reply. His next words baited her again.
“Name the last time you did what you were told…when you weren’t under a compulsion,” he qualified.
Addie swallowed hard. What game did he play? She wracked her brains for a suitable answer. She didn’t have much to go on. She’d worn white to their wedding instead of the traditional black, had insisted on an Alaskan cruise honeymoon to replace the flight he’d wanted to take to Catalonia, and when she’d gotten pregnant with their daughter, Addie had insisted on working right through her ninth month in direct opposition to the warlock’s wishes she take a month off to ‘nest.’ Their entire relationship had been a clash of wills, and they’d both thrived on it. Her new, complacent demeanor might be the reason Dorian seemed angry all the time. Something to ponder, anyway.
Back to his question, Addie remembered one instance where she let Dorian have his way.
“I let you name our daughter Angela,” she reminded him.
The smile that touched his lips reminded Addie of the softer Dorian to whom she’d once been privy.
“That you did,” he acquiesced. “After my mother…and a good thing, too. I think you had something inappropriate like Prudence or Gladys in mind.”
“I did not.” The heated reply popped out of her mouth before she could stop it, and the chuckle from Dorian made her bones melt. Well, well. He’d meant to get her rattled. Certain of it now, she tried to calm her fast beating heart and see how he responded to total acquiescence.
“Just let me know what you’d like me to do when we get there,” she managed to say blandly. “If you need me to stay out of your way, I’ll sit in the car. If you want me for a little magical back-up, I’ll be happy to help.”
She could almost see the gears turning in Dorian’s head...and he’d actually scowled the moment she reverted to a neutral position. The look that replaced it―if she remembered the Dorian of old―told her that something fresh and outrageous was about to be suggested. What would it be? She didn’t have to wait long.
“You know I plan on having you back in my bed soon.”
He couldn’t have dropped a bigger bomb if he’d had weeks to think on it. Addie had never expected to hear such an outrageous statement from his lips. Certainly, she’d expected him to use her as a housekeeper, a cook, and an errand runner; those things she had imagined. But sex? It boggled the mind. Why would he ever contemplate taking her aging self to bed?
She closed her eyes, envisioning his hard, young body poised above her and remembered how his ropey muscles used to bunch under his skin before Dorian plunged into her without preamble. She had always been wet and ready. A gripping blush spread throughout her entire body, directly to her core. Could she pass out from a memory?
Addie quickly derided his taunt as just that and pondered what he would expect her to say. Damn. She’d have to agree with him. Even though it just about killed her, she modulated her voice to stay light and devoid of emotion.
“If that’s what will make you happy, Dorian, I’ll come back to your bed.” She tipped her head, refusing to look up at him. Intense heat gripped her body.
“Wh…what?” The single word, albeit stuttered, escaped Dorian in a hiss.
Okay, then. She’d caught him off guard. Good.
His hand tightened over hers, and warmth crept up her arm. She dared peek up from under lowered lashes to see the single, silver dagger earring in his right ear glint in the sun. He turned his head to study her.
His eyes widened, and he smiled. “Ahh.” Dorian sounded satisfied.
Why? Surely, he hadn’t meant what he said. He let go of her hand and lowered the visor on the passenger side, then flipped up the little door on the vanity mirror.
“It’s time you looked at yourself, Addie.”
So that’s what he wanted to give her. A lesson in humiliation. He wanted her to remember how aged and wrinkled she had become. She’d read him wrong and given the incorrect answer. She should have known better and told him sex couldn’t be contemplated. Then he would have had nothing to use as ammunition to demean her. Now, she had to look at herself while he told her she’d had her day, blown years of opportunity, and from now on, only the choicest young females would be asked to join him for sex.
Addie needed to finish this. Let Dorian have his revenge. She gritted her teeth and looked up into the mirror. And blinked twice. It had to be a trick of the poorly lit interior, or perhaps the glass had turned so old, it had gone foggy. She brought up a sleeve and wiped it over the surface, gazing again.
Same results.
She’d worn her hair primly, up in a bun, and now, with shaking hands she tugged out the three pins that held it in place. Holding her breath, it tumbled around her shoulders, and she swallowed hard before reaching up with a trembling hand to draw one curl forward. Good heavens. No trick of the light, her hair gleamed as auburn as the day she’d been born.
She turned her eyes to Dorian’s flaming orbs, only to be met with a look of lust so familiar, it nearly stole her voice. She cleared her throat and expelled the question trembling on her lips.
“Dorian,” she whispered. “What have you done?”