Woman Bewitched Chapter 4

                                                              CHAPTER FOUR









“Autumn…did you hear me?” Sloan tugged on her hand.

“I…um…yeah. I heard you.” She replied faintly, blinking the vision away. She chuckled nervously. She noticed with relief that the lights suddenly seemed to glow brighter at the bottom of the stairs rather than growing darker. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“You looked like you were a million miles away.” Sloan grumbled, slightly miffed that while he was answering all her questions she was off in la-la land. He shrugged his big shoulders and continued on with his lecture about the Craft.

Autumn blew out a shaky breath, unsure if she saw what she thought she saw or if it was just a figment of her fertile imagination. She suppressed another shudder and drew closer to the comforting breadth of Sloan’s back. Hers eyes darted everywhere taking it all in at once. Not that there was much to see but at least she figured out the mystery of the lighting.

Both high on the walls and down close to the floor there were half-concealed gas lanterns providing muted light. Just enough to see but not enough to destroy the ambiance. The half-formed question of how he lit them before they started down snaked through her mind but disappeared as her nerves started to get the better of her.

Sloan could feel the tension and nerves thrumming from her body. He half-considered dropping the live-wire that was her hand. She was sending too much emotion. And he was aware of them all, whether he wanted to be or not. Instead of letting go he held on tighter, telling himself that he was concerned more about her safety than sustaining the intimate contact. He made a slight movement with his shoulders and forced the introspection away. He wasn’t ready for peering into his own secret heart. He would deal with that later…when there was room to breathe.

“There isn’t anything to be frightened of down here.” Sloan told her in a low pitched voice meant to reassure.

“What makes you so sure I was worried about it?” Autumn ignored the obvious answer and aimed a glare between his shoulder blades. Letting others see weakness in her wasn’t something she relished.

“Sweetheart, if you got any closer, you’d be in my back pocket.” Amusement laced the comment.

Realizing that he was right, Autumn’s scowl deepened. There was barely enough room to squeeze a matchbook between them. She still held his hand but put a few inches in between their bodies. That’s just peachy! Imagine, depending on a man that’s a few cans short of a six-pack to help her hang onto her sanity.

“So…what exactly are we doing down here? Is this some kind of dungeon or something? Am I gonna see all your family skeletons down here?”

Autumn knew she was babbling but really couldn’t stop the words from coming out on another onslaught of nerves. The atmosphere suddenly seemed to get a little colder and a little gloomier. Shadows where there weren’t any before seemed to press in from all sides. A tingle of apprehension shimmied through her.

“Is it too dark?” Sloan asked quietly.

“I’m not very…fond of the dark.” Autumn admitted in a whisper.

Sloan transferred the tape recorder to her and gestured with his free hand. At the simplest movement the lamps that burned low, now blazed with light. Earlier Sloan had sensed her fear but it was on a more formless level. What had been just an impression was now a solid picture. She was terrified of the dark. Not just moderately afraid, it went deeper.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He tugged he down until they sat shoulder to shoulder on the steps.

“It’s kinda dumb for a grown woman to be scared of the dark huh?” Autumn laughed self-consciously and shook her head in a negative motion. “When I was a kid my parents went to a lot of parties, mostly for business, and they’d usually bring me along. Most of Dads partners had families too and they hired baby-sitters to watch us. I think I was about six or seven at the time.”

So, anyway, all of us kids got the run of the upper floors while the parents did their thing downstairs. There was about a dozen of us kids and we decided we would play hide-and-seek. The house was so big and there hundreds of places to hide.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“It was.” Autumn sighed and shook her head. “Until I got the bright idea to go up to the third floor. There was huge playroom that connected to the nannies chambers. Anyway there was a little door inside the playroom. It was oak, I think and had one those curvy iron latches. The door reminded me of the door in Alice In Wonderland. I thought that would be a good place to hide, so I crawled in and shut the door behind me.

“It was so dark. No light at all, just pitch black. Well, I got scared right away and I tried to open the door but it just wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t even get the latch to turn. I banged on that door until my hands bled and screamed until I was hoarse. Nobody could hear me, they didn’t even realize I was missing until it was time to go.”

“I don’t think I could blame you for being scared of the dark. When something like that happens, especially at an early age, it tends to stick with you.” Sloan rubbed her cold hands absently and wondered if there wasn’t more to the story that even she realized.          “You know, I used to have the same problem when I was a kid.”

She slanted him a skeptical glance. “I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“Which, that I was ever a kid or that I was scared of the dark?”

“Maybe a bit of both.” Autumn replied with a laugh.

“When I was young I used have nightmares and I’d see thousands of wee winking lights that looked like evil glarin’ eyes staring at me in the shadows. Well, one night my mom came in after I had woken up from one of these dreams and she asked me why I was so scared of the dark. And I told her about the monsters. And she said that it wasn’t  monsters as I thought it was. She said it was the imps and fairies that danced about my head when I was sleeping and not to fear them because they were just havin’ a wee bit of fun teasin’.”

“And you didn’t have anymore nightmares after that?” Autumn guessed.

“Nope. At least none like that.” Sloan confirmed. He grinned over at her. “Mom always knew how to chase the monsters away.”

“My folks took me to a child psychologist.” She smiled slightly. “They thought I was having a nervous breakdown. So, how about the rest of that tour?”

“Sure, come on.” Sloan stood up and offered her a hand, feeling a small dart of victory when she took it willingly. It wasn’t much but it was a start.

Just around the nest curve the room widened into large circular chamber, stretching at least twenty feet across and about thirty or so feet high. Autumn tilted her head back until she stared straight up at the ceiling. Instead of stone or wood as she expected, a dome made of paned glass topped the odd chamber. The afternoon sun had faded and the first flush of stars appeared, twinkling above them.

“Amazing.” Autumn looked back at him. “As long as it took us I didn’t think we’d ever get here. I had no idea that we weren’t still in the house.”

“The halls we took led us to the back of the house and the stairs brought us down and out a little farther until we were out from under the foundation. It’s a  replica of the original of the Manor in Scotland.”

“The manor?”

“Yes, that’s where we used to live. Then Da moved us to the island after Felicia was born. The houses on Ballentyne Island were built by my great-grandfather Seamus. It appeared he needed some space from his family so he chose to buy this land and build the twin of the Manor.”

“I wonder how long it took.” She mused. “These stones, they’re so…well, they look perfectly matched. They all look like the same size, shape and everything. He must have had someone chisel them or something.”

“Or something.” Sloan agreed vaguely, then directed her gaze to the floor. “He did this too.”

Autumn looked down at the floor, seeing lines connecting here and there, all done in silver. There didn’t seem to be a pattern or connection until she stepped back to get a better over-all view. The lines connected. A large five-pointed star formed and around that there was a circle of glittering stones. All inlaid in dark wood, which in turn, was surrounded by those smooth even stones.

“A pentagram?”

“Yes.” He set his hands on her shoulders and walked her until she stood in between the bottom legs of the pentagram. “Star of the Microcosm, little world. It resembles the human figure. The uppermost point is the spirit and then each point after that is the four elements; water, fire, earth and air.”

“I thought that Satanists used the pentagram?”

“They do but it’s inverted and it means different things to different people. To witches the inverted pentagram means that the elements take precedence over spirit. The inverted pentagram also symbolizes the Horned God in Pagan religion. The Christian church used the symbol to demonize the Horned God by equating him with their Devil in attempt to convert everyone to their religion.” Sloan’s expression darkened. “And when that didn’t work they tried other means of conversion.”

“Are you talking about the ‘Witch Trials’ ?” Autumn walked around the pentagram, studying it from every angle.

“That was part of it but not the whole of it. There were other things. Discrimination that often led to murder of innocent people, even children at times. It isn’t like that now but the discrimination still continues today.”

“Today’s society is more accepting now than what they used to be.” Autumn stopped and looked up at him. “Even though some concepts are harder to believe than others.”

“Society, as you call it, is only accepting of differences when a person can be neatly labeled into a nice little slot that they can understand. If they don’t understand you... well, let’s just say they’re less than accepting.” An old bitterness that he thought he was well rid of swelled in him.

“Was it hard on you growing up, being different from the rest of the crowd?” Compassion for him warred with common sense that sneaked in the awful thought that he could have made it easier by not announcing to all and sundry that he was a witch. “And what about school? Did you go to a regular school or were you home schooled?”

“We all went to a regular school. The only thing that was really difficult about going to school with other…non-witches,” His mouth quirked into a grin as he borrowed one of her terms. “was restraining myself. We had to put up with a lot of teasing and harassment but other than that it was ok. It helped that we all went to school with each other. There isn’t that much of an age difference between all of us.”

“Your mom must have had one right after another.” Autumn smiled.

“Yep.” Sloan grinned. “When you meet her on Friday you’ll have to ask her what it was like.”

“Maybe I will. It can’t have been easy. It would be hard having six kids that didn’t have special talents.” Her expression turned wistful for a moment. “It must have been a blast having brothers and sisters.”

“Only child?” Sloan took her hand and led the way back upstairs.

“Yeah, unfortunately. I always wanted siblings but when mom had me there were complications. The doctors told her she couldn’t have anymore children.” There was a lingering trace of guilt there, even though she knew that it wasn’t something that could’ve been prevented.

“You must have been spoiled rotten then.” He teased in attempt to lighten the shadows that darkened her pretty green eyes. He was gratified when she chuckled ruefully.

“Terribly spoiled.” Autumn tossed her hair and manufactured a snotty look. “Daddy always gave me everything I wanted.”

“Daddy’s girl huh?” Sloan laughed lightly and raised their joined hands to brush a kiss across her knuckles. “While we’re walking around, let me show you your room.”

“After the maze you just led me through I hope it’s somewhere easily navigatable. I might get lost.” She shook her head in wonder. “This place is even bigger than the governor’s mansion.”

“Rub elbows with politicians do you?”

“Well you know, friends in low places.” Autumn grimaced. “I should be nice. Most of the politicians I’ve met are somewhat decent, if longwinded. My father’s friends are a good example for the most part.”

“Here we are.” Sloan opened a thick oak door and gestured with an out-swept hand. “I thought all politicians were long winded.”

Autumn just grinned. “Wow, this is some room. It’s gorgeous.”

“This used to be my great-grandmother’s room before they were married.” Sloan paused and looked around the room, seeing it through her eyes. “Most of the furnishings are they same as when she stayed here. They met and fell in love on this island.”

“I’d like to hear the story sometime.” Autumn fell in love with the room itself.

It was beautiful. Dark stained wood floors and walls contrasting with the pure white trappings. She trailed a hand over the white eyelet bedspread and grasped the tall post that held up the canopy. Sheer curtains hung from the canopy and were pushed aside to sway by each post. Matching curtains fluttered by open windows and the French door that opened to balcony that stretched the length of the house.

As with just about every room in the house that she had been in, plants decorated every corner. Some of the bigger-leafed trees stood tall in large pots, while the bushy ferns and hostas hung on the walls in half-pots. They were a pleasing addition to a room that was fit for a princess. 

  “Oh! What about my clothes and things?” She nearly forgot all about them. Autumn eyed the darkness of the night. “It’s dark out and we can’t get back to the mainland now.”

Sloan pointed to the armoire across the room. He leaned against the door frame, unwilling to enter the inside. Why tempt himself any more than necessary. He was glad he remembered to gather her clothes while she was occupied with Breena. He smiled faintly as he picked up on her sudden suspicion, alarm and then the relief that followed.

“I guess you already had someone deliver it.” Autumn almost laughed at the way her imagination took off when she first opened the armoire to see her clothes all neatly hung up and folded inside. The first thought that entered into her mind was that he did some kind of a chant or little dance and summoned the bags flying to the room. “Thank you.”

“You’re entirely welcome.” Sloan grinned and thought that what she was imagining wasn’t all too far from the truth but he decided to keep it to himself for now. “Would you like to freshen up before supper?”

“That would be lovely.”

“Just come down to the kitchen when you’re ready.”

Autumn blew out a relieved sigh. Being alone with him all day had been enough to get her all hot and bothered but being alone in a bedroom with him added a whole new dimension of temptation. Autumn grimaced as she thought of all the naughty thoughts that had been crowded in her head. She swore she had more of them in the last couple of hours than she had in the last couple of months. A cold shower was definitely in order. A very long, cold shower.

Sloan went to his own room which, conveniently, was just down the hall. The contrast between the two rooms couldn’t have been more obvious. Where her room was light and airy, his burst with bold colors. The floors and walls were a light honey, matching the few pieces of furniture. Vibrant scattered rugs, wall hangings, the jewel toned silks on his bed, they all added colorful chaos. While he never considered himself and interior designer, he thought the room turned out fairly well. It well reflected his love for the bold.

Sloan crossed to the smallish desk he had in the corner and scanned the items before picking out the one that he wanted. He bypassed the crystal ball that sat in the center and picked up the silver mirror with the black glass. He traced the swirls of silver with one long fingertip before settling himself to looking for the reassurance that the feeling he sensed was right.

He knelt on the floor. Knowledge and the power he had from the instant he drew his first breath rose in him. As old as time, his gift to cast aside, his to accept. His eyes grew as dark as a thousand storms. The glass in the mirror swirled with smoke, black and white before bleeding with color. An image appeared in the smoke and colors.

What had been just smoke and color was now an image of him. And her. Sunlit rays painted Autumn’s hair with tones of brilliant fire. Her fiery waves fanned out on the emerald grass beneath her and the sound of rushing water could be heard, along with the mist of the spray. Her eyes as bright as the grass beneath her, welcomed him with a strength of emotion such as he’d never received before. Her eyes drew him, her hands caressed him and her body accepted him.

Sloan drew a painful breath as the scene changed. The scrying mirror turned dark with violent colors, indicating that there were going to be pain for both of them in the future. As much as he wanted to see how it was going to turn out the mirror turned to smoke and then only showed a reflection of his own troubled features. It seemed fate didn’t want him to see too much.

Sloan wasn’t sure if he was relieved or upset that fate stepped in and took the choice away from him or not. He turned it over in his head as he slid down the balustrade to the first floor. He still hadn’t come up with a conclusion mid-way through cooking supper. Sloan let the rich aroma of seasoned meat chase away the heavy thoughts and concentrated on preparing the fresh vegetables for the stir fry.

“Need any help?” Autumn leaned against the center island and watched those strong, confident hands efficiently slice and dice the vegetables.

Sloan looked up at her and saw her watching him. He smiled. His eyes traveled down the multi-green hued shift-dress that she was wearing and then to the strappy tan sandals that more or less left her feet bare. And he knew. He knew that it didn’t matter that he couldn’t see exactly what was going to happen. He couldn’t turn back now, not if it meant never experiencing the magic between them.

“You can get the wine glasses in that counter over there if you wish.” Sloan turned back to the stove and added the veggies to the browned meat.

Autumn let out a small shaky breath and wished for the first time that she had the gift to read minds. She would have loved to know what was going on in his head when he looked at her like that. His eyes were so…tender but they looked as if they held the slightest trace of sadness at the same time. She was going to have to put some distance between them or all the resolutions she made upstairs were going to fall by the wayside.

“You know, I’ve asked you all sorts of questions about your beliefs but there is another thing I’m curious about.” Autumn set the glasses down and started setting two places at the table.

“What’s that?” Sloan drained the rice and carried the small kettle to the table.

“What do you do for fun? When you’re not uh…busy being a witch?” When she glanced up from setting silverware just so next to the plates, he was studying her as if he could see the gears turning in her head. “Besides buying businesses for the sole purpose of owning them.”

“I suppose I do the same things that everybody else does. Every once and a while I go to movies, dancing or go catch a game somewhere.” He dished up the plates. “And I do date occasionally.”

“Oh?” Autumn felt a twinge but kept it to herself. “What kind of women do you date? What’s your type?”

“Is this for the article?” Sloan rounded the table and held out her chair, pushing it in as she sat.

“Nope. Just curious.” Just how did she get on the whole dating line of questions? Autumn muffled a sigh, asking personal questions about his dating habits wasn’t what she wanted to come out of her mouth but there it was.

“I don’t know if I really have a type.” He mused.

“Everybody has a type.” Autumn shoved a bite of stir fry in her mouth before she could blurt out anything else. She made a small noise of appreciation.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Let’s see what was your type again?” Sloan asked mockingly. “I seem to remember you mentioning stable, responsible…was that it?”

“You didn’t give me a chance to finish.” Autumn protested. “And there’s nothing wrong with wanting someone who is stable and responsible.”

“So what else would your dream guy be like?”

“Well, he’d have to be fairly intelligent, serious but have a sense of humor, sensitive, and entirely dependable and down to earth.” The opposite of you, she added silently.

“That’s really important to you, isn’t it? Being dependable?”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

“Yes, it is. I remember this one interview I did for extreme sports week. She was the wife of an extreme sports fanatic. Anything that crazy and dangerous, he was up for it. This poor woman loved him so much, that was easy to see but bit by bit he was killing her.” She frowned and stabbed at a carrot.

Every time he left, she’d be sitting there wondering if he was going to make it home this time. The eight months before the article he was parachuting out of a plane with a snowboard attached to his feet. When he hit the mountain the bindings came loose. He almost died there was so much trauma to his body. As I was talking to her, he was back up in the plane preparing to jump again. That’s not the kind of man I want. I don’t want someone that takes it for granted that I’m going pick up the broken pieces of our life while he’s out seeking self-gratification by cheating death and pushing the limits of reality.”

“Extreme sports isn’t my idea of a good time either but not every man that’s goes on an adventure is looking for a death wish. And not every guy with the qualities you mentioned is gonna be a good husband.” Sloan pushed his empty plate away. “Besides you don’t need a man like that.”

“I don’t? What makes you say that?”

“You need a man that going to compliment your own sense of adventure and one that will be content just being with you. Someone that inspires your imagination. Someone with passion strong enough to match your own.” His words echoed the challenge that burned in his intense eyes. “You just have to decide if your up to the challenge of being with a man that’s your equal.”

“Why do you think the guy I described wouldn’t be my equal?” Autumn rose from the table and carried the plates to the sink, her back straight and stiff. Damn him for making her feel defensive. “I never said anything about wanting a wimp.”

“With a  guy that you described you’d be walking all over him inside of a week.” Sloan snorted disparagingly, following her to the sink.

“And I suppose you’re not the type of man that would let a woman use him for a doormat?” Autumn turned, only to find him close behind her.

“Any woman of mine would be cherished more than queen that ever lived but-“

“I knew there would be a but in there somewhere.” Autumn teased lightly, leaning back against the counter in effort to widen the gap.

“But I would expect her have the same amount of feeling and commitment to me as I would have for her.” He didn’t smile. His emotions were too close to the surface. The one woman for him was standing right in front of him, all he had to do was convince her of that fact.

“So, Your Majesty, will you and your queen hold court here or in the castle in Scotland?” Autumn stubbornly refuse any implications he was making. She wasn’t his queen, she never would be.

Sloan sighed and reminded himself that he did have some time. “I thought maybe the villa in Italy.”

Autumn kept her expression relaxed and smiling. “I’m sure the two of you will have a fairytale kind of life.”

“Will you stay for a week?” Sloan almost cursed at what sounded more like a plea then an invitation.

“Sloan, I can’t stay that long. I have a life to get back to. You get me for two days. That’s it.”

“Make it four and you get a bonus question.”

“Four and I get a bonus question. Hmm, three days, a bonus question and you have to show me some of your magic.” She patted his chest and sidled past him.

“You drive a hard bargain Autumn.” Sloan sighed and slid his hands into his pockets. He studied the floor at his feet then slanted a glance up at her. “Three days but you can’t leave till the morning of the fourth day. Deal?”

“Fourth day, in the morning.” She said by way of agreement. That would give her enough time to meet the family as well. “You have a deal. Thanks for supper. It was good. Goodnight.”

“Autumn. If you need anything I’m just across the hall.” He told her in a voice filled with heat and longing.

Autumn made herself walk out of the room at a normal pace. She waited until she was out of his line of sight before giving into the shiver that teased her. And to think she had two more days of this. Unless she finished the article ahead of time then there wouldn’t be a need to stay any longer. That’s what she would do. Finish it early, otherwise she would end up acting like a cat in perpetual heat.

With a clear plan in mind, Autumn threw open the door and shut it firmly behind her and then after a moments hesitation, snapped the lock. She didn’t bother to delve into the reasons for the action, she just grabbed the laptop, the recorder and the headset and settled herself comfortably on the huge bed. A couple of false starts and frustrated curses later, the words finally started to flow smoothly.

Once she got past the distraction of his smooth, smoky voice murmuring in her ears, the beginning of her story filled out on the screen. As she always did, she started the article with a question. She always tried to show both sides and then let the readers decide for themselves, instead of telling them what her opinion of the subject is. Autumn had always figured there were enough people in the world telling others what to believe, she didn’t want to do the same.

When she could go no farther with the information she had. It wasn’t much but at least it was a start. Autumn put her things on the small desk in the corner and wandered around the room. Now what was she going to do until it was time to go to bed? Autumn looked around the room a bit desperately. As comfortable as it was, there wasn’t a whole lot of distractions.

Perhaps listening to the tape hadn’t been a very good idea. She was filled with a restless energy that she didn’t want to put a name too. She paced back and forth, from one end of the bed to the other.

“Damn, it’s warm in here.”

Autumn muttered irritably and without hesitation she ripped off her clothes and jerked her favorite camisole top over her head. Suddenly deciding it was too dark she turned up the lamps till the room fairly blazed with light. She checked her portable clock, five after eight. She tapped her hands on her thighs, edgy and discontented.

With a small sigh Autumn toyed with the pendant around her neck, twisting it this way and that, watching as the light caught and shimmered on the silver. She smiled at the serene looking fairy and placed it gently against her skin. The tension and nerves just seemed to…drift away. She closed her eyes and let her body relax fully.

Drifting on in contentment, she was caught somewhere in between the door of sleep and wakefulness. A small smile curled at her lips as she slipped into dreamland. Unbeknownst to her the lights dimmed until there was but a faint blush of illumination. The gauzy netting swept from the posts with a sigh, enveloping her in a comfy nest of champagne-colored mist. 

Sloan closed the door quietly and went back to his own chamber. Stripping down to nothing, he climbed beneath his own sheets. A small frown creased his brow as he tucked an arm beneath his head and stared at the ceiling. Sleep would be easy for Autumn tonight but he had doubts it would be so easy for him.

Within just a few scant hours he’d found his match for life but just how was he going to convince her of that. Sloan had a feeling that candy and flowers just weren’t going to do the trick. With only two days he was going to have to do some pretty heavy groundwork. He couldn’t let her leave without at least getting a glimpse of how happy they could be together.  A sly stab of old insecurity warned him that if he didn’t, she would walk away from him without a second thought. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been used then tossed aside after his usefulness was over.

Sloan idly ran a finger over the Alexandrite stone set in silver on his left pinky. The last time he trusted a woman without the same heritage as his, it ended horribly. If that was a strong enough word. It had been bad enough to set him traipsing around the world like a bird without a perch. Most of it was his own fault. That was what had hurt the most. Instead of trusting in those who loved him and trusting his own instincts, he’d fallen blindly in love with a vivacious Italian news show host. Not real news either but sensationalism-type of news. That should have been his first clue.

Sloan closed his eyes and conjured her face in his mind and then let it fade away until he only saw Autumn, peaceful in sleep. So beautiful. So dangerous to him and his dented heart. He just hoped he wasn’t wrong about her. Him or the mirror.