The Wedding Spell Read online

  “Oh, the poor, dear witch has limited powers,” Sydney said with a sad shake of her head. She reached out and patted Dagon’s arm. “You simply cannot fire her, my dear boy. It would not be appropriate.”

  Dagon stared incredulously at her. “I most certainly can. My whole staff—faithful staff might I add—is threatening to quit. Right there is grounds enough for severing her employment.”

  Sydney shook her head. “I am warning you. Do not fire the poor unfortunate. You don’t know truly what you are dealing with.”

  “I am dealing with a bumbling, inept witch who has no place in my home and—”

  Sydney silenced him with a searing glare. “Be careful, Dagon, this is more than you can handle.”

  Dagon didn’t take well to her reproachful warning. “I think not. I will deal with it directly and swiftly upon my arrival.”

  Sydney spotted Sebastian talking with the maître d’ and leaned over to whisper to Dagon, “Remember my advice.”

  Sebastian walked up to the table and graciously placed a tender kiss on Sydney’s cheek and a more familiar one on Ali’s lips before taking the seat next to her.

  “Good to see you again, Dagon,” he said.

  Dagon nodded, raising his glass in a salute. “I’m impressed, Sebastian. You don’t seem the least bit intimidated by the presence of three witches.”

  Ali shot him a lethal look, and Sydney remained Sydney, in control and dignified.

  “You mean in the presence of two mannered witches and one ill-tempered one,” Sydney corrected.

  It was Sebastian’s turn to be impressed as he watched Dagon turn contrite and apologize.

  “Forgive me,” Dagon said, “there is no excuse for such abhorrent manners.”

  “Bad morning?” Sebastian asked.

  Dagon smiled graciously. “Extremely bad.”

  The waiter appeared and took their orders.

  Sydney started the conversation. “I also must beg your forgiveness, Sebastian. My niece holds a soft spot in my heart, and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.”

  “See what I must contend with,” Dagon said teasingly.

  “I envy you the special bond you share,” Sebastian said.

  “Our heritage allows for nothing less,” Dagon said. “We protect each other out of necessity for survival, but we care because we’re aware.”

  “Aware?” Sebastian asked, wondering if he was being drawn into the world of the insane or actually facing reality.

  Sydney continued from there. “Life is awareness. Awareness of all, everything, though particularly yourself. With this knowledge comes great power and with that power responsibility.”

  “Responsibility?” He knew he sounded naïve like a young schoolboy uncertain of his lessons, but you didn’t learn if you didn’t question. And he wanted to know all. It was the only way he could completely understand and cope with their belief in witchcraft.

  “Study the lesson, Sebastian,” Sydney offered. “Then you will learn what you seek.”

  Sebastian couldn’t curb his curiosity. “I thought witches cast spells, chanted, and held ceremonies. Yet here you speak to me of awareness and responsibility, more mortal traits than witches.”

  Ali wasn’t surprised at his genuine interest. His practical side urged him to search for the logical behind the illogical. And if anyone could initiate a neophyte to witchcraft, it was her aunt.

  “Mortal traits?” she asked with a smile. “What makes you think they first belonged to mortals?”

  Sebastian shook his head.

  “Witches introduced many wonders to mortals. It was up to them to learn and grow.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately their growth has been slow.”

  The food arrived, giving Sebastian time to pause and think. Sydney was obviously an intelligent woman, and yet she believed herself to be a witch. A six-hundred-year-old witch to be exact. How did he rationalize that? Did he join them in their insanity? Or allow them their fantasies? Not once had any of them offered to prove their so-called powers, and he had not requested a demonstration. Was that the simple answer to this whole strange situation? Request a show of powers?

  “Have I challenged your mind, Sebastian?” Sydney asked, adding a sprinkle of pepper to her roasted baby potatoes.

  “Enough to learn more,” he said.

  Dagon remained skeptical and concerned. “You are willing to learn?”

  Sebastian smiled at Ali and reached out to squeeze her hand. “I feel as Sydney does. Ali has more than a soft spot in my heart, she has my complete love, and there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.”

  Ali smiled in return, though her heart ached. He thoughtfully did this for her out of love, a generous reason and a reasonable one. An unreasonable one would have been him believing, honestly believing her to be a witch. Unfortunately, he found that difficult to do.

  “Does that include believing in witches?” Dagon asked, voicing everyone’s concern.

  Sebastian spoke firmly and with a sense of his own beliefs. “Yes, it does and I respect your beliefs and practice in the craft. I have read extensively on the subject since meeting Ali, and I have come to realize just how many practicing witches exist today. It is an old religion that has seen a tremendous revival.”

  Dagon said nothing, neither did Sydney. They waited for Ali to speak.

  “You accept me as a witch?” she asked him with trepidation.

  Sebastian didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want her placed in an awkward situation, didn’t want to embarrass her.

  “If it is a witch you believe to be, then it’s a witch you are,” he said.

  “You believe because I believe?” she asked, her heart filled with pain, having hoped he would have truly believed.

  “I believe in you, Ali.”

  She smiled as best she could, though the sorrow showed. She excused herself and retreated to the ladies’ room to quell her tears.

  Sebastian confronted the two as soon as Ali was out of sight. “I am a practical man. Sound reasoning is what makes sense to me. If you believe in witchcraft fine, but to contend to be hundreds of years old? Why? What good does it do but label you eccentrics.”

  Sydney spoke softly and with a hint of disappointment in her persuasive voice. “We have worn many labels over the years, some far worse than others. We hope and often pray that mortals will eventually come to understand our ways, perhaps even accept them. Unfortunately, we are always disappointed. I had thought you were different, capable of stepping beyond the ordinary, or to you the reasonable. Please, don’t disappoint me.”

  Sebastian felt chastened like a child who had badly disappointed a favorite parent and whose apology would not be enough to make amends.

  Ali returned to a silent table, and she began to chatter to fill the void, to ease her ache, to stop the pain. Dagon joined in, sensing her distress, and Sydney did the same.

  Talk eventually turned to laughter and an awkward meal was soon transformed into a pleasant one.

  Sebastian departed from them with a strong sense of camaraderie and an equally strong sense to take heed of Sydney’s words.

  o0o

  It was late. Sebastian sat on his deck alone. He had had a late night meeting with prospective clients. He had hoped to see Ali, but she had a previous commitment with her aunt, so here he sat in solitude.

  Where did their relationship go from here? He wanted a firm commitment. Marriage. Children. A lifetime together. Could he have one with Ali?

  He certainly loved her enough, and he had no doubt of her love for him, so what now?’Did he demand she reject this crazy notion of being a witch? Did he accept her for who she was?”

  He stood and paced the deck. He had always found sound logic comforting. It was solid and could be counted on to solve any number of problems. But Ali defied logic and because of this he found it hard defining who she was.

  And no amount of research had solved his problem. Sound deductive reasoning didn’t apply to Ali. She was different
in every sense of the word, and in a strange way he was drawn to her individuality.

  So why would he want her to change?

  He shook his head. Perhaps he was the crazy one and she sane. All families had their strange quirks, so what if Ali’s family believed themselves witches.

  Six-hundred-year-old witches? His rational mind argued with him.

  He had driven himself crazy since meeting her. He could find no sound explanation for her undetected entrance into his office, except for fairy dust. Not an acceptable reason. He found no sensible answer for his vision of a fairy, namely Beatrice.

  He peeked cautiously to his shoulder, shaking his head at his own ridiculous actions.

  “Delusion might suffice,” he told himself.

  The only logical answer he had for anything that had occurred since Ali had popped into his life was that he had fallen completely and madly in love with her.

  And love certainly made no sense, so how did he expect to understand anything at all that was happening to him?

  In some way his rationalizing the situation seemed to make cohesive sense, which pleased him and gave him purpose.

  He would call Ali now. Right now, no matter the hour. He would tell her how very much he loved her. How he couldn’t live without her. How he wanted her to be a part of his life always. He would propose to her and finally end this madness.

  He marched into the house and grabbed for the phone.

  Ali sat by the pool in her white nightgown. It was late, but she wasn’t tired. All she could think about was Sebastian and where their relationship went from here.

  He agreed to accept her as a witch, though only because she believed herself one. Did that really matter? He accepted her and that was all the spell called for, his acceptance.

  He truly loved her; she had no doubt of that. So what was the problem? What prevented them from sealing their love forever? Her powers? He loved her, and wasn’t love acceptance? So there was nothing to stop them. Really nothing stood in their way except their stubborn pride. And why shouldn’t their stubbornness interfere? He was practical. She was a witch. But he accepted her in his own sensible way, and she certainly accepted him.

  So what were they waiting for? She should call him this very minute. She should tell him she must see him now. Right now. She would admit her complete, undying love for him, and if sound logic was to follow, the next step would be a proposal of marriage.

  She smiled wide. That is what she would do. She would purpose and end this crazy business once and for all.

  She reached for the phone.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Ali was waiting impatiently at the door for him. His arrival was imminent. They had talked briefly, both surprised when they picked up the phone to find that the other one waited on the opposite end. There had been no dial tone, no ring, just a connection.

  A magical omen, Sebastian had suggested with a laugh, and her heart had soared with happiness. Now he was on his way over, insisting he had to speak with her and her insisting just as strongly that she must do the same.

  His car headlights appeared down the long driveway, and Ali fluffed her long loose hair with her fingers and gently nibbled her lips to rush a dash of color to them.

  She was so excited that she tingled. The evening would end wonderfully, with them planning an immediate wedding.

  His car so sooner came to a stop than he sprinted out and up the steps. His attire confirmed his eagerness for a speedy arrival. He wore dark trousers, a tan cotton shirt, minus a tie, and rolled up sleeves.

  He took the steps two at a time, hurried over to her, grabbing her around the waist and lifting her to meet his mouth. His demanding kiss stole her senses. He tasted delicious, warm, sweet, and appetizing. If she didn’t focus on the matter at hand, they would soon be naked and furiously making love.

  Awareness must have dawned on him as well, for he lowered her feet to the floor and reluctantly eased her away from him.

  “Later,” he said with promise. “We need to talk.”

  She took his hand and pressed her finger to her lips cautioning him to remain silent. All in the house were asleep, and he willingly followed her through the foyer, down the hall and to the indoor pool area.

  “This will give us privacy,” she said, refusing to relinquish his hand. His long, lean fingers felt strong and secure being locked solidly with hers.

  “You have been on my mind all night,” he said. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t want to stop thinking about you. I never knew love could feel like this.”

  “How?” she asked, wanting to hear how he defined love.

  He slipped his hand from hers and turned away from her raking his fingers through his dark hair. When he swerved back around, the expression on his face stole her breath.

  He wore his emotions openly for her to see, the torment, the doubt that tore at him, and the love. A love so strong that it shined in the depths of his eyes clear down to his soul.

  “I can’t live without you, Ali.” He shook his head. “That’s crazy. In reality I could, I would have no choice but I don’t want to. I don’t want to wake without you beside me in the morning or drift off to sleep without you in my arms. I want to share laughter and tears. I want to hold you when you need comforting, tease you when you need to laugh, and love you every day for the rest of our lives. We belong together. One cannot exist without the other. Your breath is mine, mine is yours. Your heart belongs to me and mine to you. Our souls are one and forever. I love you, Ali, and I want—”

  “Marry me,” she said sealing his words.

  He laughed and grinned. “I can’t wait for our children to hear the story of how I proposed marriage to their mother.”

  She poked him in the chest. “You haven’t accepted my offer yet.”

  “Yes,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Yes,” he repeated, kissing her eyes. “Yes,” he went on kissing her chin. “Yes, I will marry you,” he finished and planted a kiss on her lips that left no doubt how he felt about her.

  Ali sighed, completely satisfied. It was done, all taken care of, and finally finished. They would spend the rest of their lives together.

  “I think we should marry immediately,” she said, tugging his hand for him to follow her to the chaise lounge.

  His firm grip on her hand stopped her from going far. “If we sit on that, talk will be quickly forgotten.”

  She eyed the chaise and eyed him up and down and nodded. “You’re right. We better stand and discuss the wedding plans.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Don’t ever change, Ali, I love you for who you are.”

  Her heart soared. His love was strong for her. He loved who she was, not who he wanted her to be. She had chosen an extraordinary man.

  “Now about the wedding,” he said. “While I would love an immediate wedding, I also would love a wedding where I can show off my bride.”

  She grinned with pleasure. “Aunt Sydney and I could put together a wonderful wedding celebration in two to three months. How about October or November?”

  “A perfect time,” he agreed.

  She grew excited at the prospect of planning the special event. “Of course we must be careful of the date so it doesn’t interfere with the Autumn Equinox or All Hallows Eve.”

  She continued not noticing the odd look Sebastian sent her. “And we should marry before either festivity so you will at least be familiar with my family before the first seasonal celebration.”

  A warning bell went off in Sebastian’s head. A tiny ping reminding him that this issue needed addressing before they committed completely to each other, and there was only one way, one way to settle it once and for all.

  He cleared his throat and the attention-getting sound did exactly that. It caught her attention and jolted her senses.

  He took a step away from her and Ali sensed the flight without him. She couldn’t bear to feel his distress and decided the moment was at hand. If they were to marry, then he had to be
aware, had to believe.

  “You want a display of my powers,” she said softly.

  He stared at her. “I should be accustomed to you reading my mind, but your skill takes some getting used to.”

  What would he do when he discovered just how much skill she actually possessed? Would he run? Would he believe? Or would her love her?

  “I understand and it is best that you know what you are getting yourself into.”

  Her words didn’t help to convince him. He feared that it would be he who would need to comfort her when her little tricks failed to work and then what? How would she feel? And where would it leave them?

  “Let’s get this over with,” she said, suddenly feeling nervous. A reaction she had not experienced since she was young and had been directed to perform her first magical feat before her family. Of course it had been simple, but she had been merely a child and understandably nervous. Now she was an adult with controlled and precise powers that were hers to command. And still she found herself nervous but now for a vastly different reason.

  “Anything in particular you would like me to do?” she asked, uncertain as to where to begin, especially since he was a nonbeliever and so damn practical. A small feat probably wouldn’t convince him, yet a large feat might just frighten him away.

  He found his nerves on edge, more for her than for him, and he wanted this over and done. He shrugged. “You choose.”

  She glanced around the pool area and noticed her empty teacup on the table beside the chaise. “I could float that teacup in the air.”

  He nodded.

  She pointed her finger at the delicate china cup and it slowly rose to steadily float over the glass-top table.

  “Good,” he said with a nod, realizing any first-rate magician could perform such a trick, and perhaps she was skilled in magic. She could, after all, read minds, another magician’s trick.

  His thought hit her full force. He didn’t think it real.

  He actually thought she was using mortal magic. So annoyed with his doubting thoughts she forgot herself and swung her finger away from the cup. It crashed to the tabletop and splintered in pieces.