O NE MINUTE I WAS EXITING my room and the next I’m standing in a house of horrors and Raul is asking me if I trust him. How could I not? If he wanted to kill me, he had plenty of opportunities.
“Do I have a choice?” I ask as he takes me by the hand and leads me over to a chair.
“Of course you do. Sit,” he says. He settles himself on the coffee table in front of me and hands me a glass of liquid courage. “What is this?”
Raul looks at me. “It’s cognac... old cognac,” he replies, studying my face.
I sniff it and ask, “How old?”
“Not that it matters,” Mickle said. “But if you must know it’s five hundred years old and from my own collection.”
“Is it any good?” I look at Raul.
At his nod, I take a sip, only to spit it out accidentally, in his face. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’re trying to poison me, aren’t you?”
I notice the man with a bouncy knee lean forward, his knee no longer bouncing. I frown at him, knowing he’s likely the mastermind behind my demise. “What does it taste like?” he asks.
I feel my brows lift skyward. “What?!”
“For Christ’s sake Mickle. An introduction would help.” A tall blonde man that looked like he just stepped off the set of Peaky Blinders sits in the chair to my right and holds out his hand. “Cassidy, I’m Jake. It’s nice to meet you.”
He looks harmless enough, so I take his offered hand. Noticing how cold it is, I mumble. “Nice to meet you too...I think.”
Jake laughs as the man across from him leans forward. “Hi. I’m Peter. Sorry for reacting the way that I did when you screamed. I’ll learn to better control myself around you.”
I look at Raul and see him slowly shake his head. My eyes widen when I can hear his voice inside my head saying, “I’ll tell you later.” He then cleared his throat. “The one hovering in the corner over there and who brought you here, is Ivan.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at bouncy man. “And you already know that’s Mickle... and I’m—”
I whisper, “Cashel... I can tell from your voice. How—”
“How did I change my looks?” he asks, as he morphs from Raul to himself right before my eyes.
“Whoa!” I climb up the back of the chair and over it to stand on the floor, needing to put some distance between us.
“What the fuck is going on?” I whisper. My voice rises an octave higher with each word I say. “Did you put something in my drink? PCP’s, magic mushrooms, peyote? Is that why it tasted like dirt?”
That got a chuckle out of all five men in the room.
“No Cassidy.” Mickle stood. “But magic is correct. Cashel is a witch. A very powerful one. But not as powerful as you...”
Now it was my turn to chuckle, only I didn’t just do a few ha ha’s, I was full blown out cackling like the witch they accused me of being.
When none of them joined in I realized they were just as delusional as me, thinking I was getting a cottage in the countryside.
“Cassidy.” Cash said my name like freshly shaved legs on satin sheets; cool, smooth, and sensual. I clammed up and stared at him. “Yes?”
“Are you done?”
I fold my arms across my chest. It irked me that he had such a command over me, making me cream in my pants by just saying my name. Suddenly, horrifying thoughts entered my brain. He knew about my clitoris toy and what it was, and he knew I thought his voice was fucking hot as hell. He probably even knew what color of underwear I was wearing. Instead of looking for bugs in my room he was probably hiding tiny cameras all over the place.
“Green with a lacy fringe and if I must say, sexy as fuck. And no... no cameras, that would be an invasion of your privacy,” he murmured.
My vision went from fuzzy to black in a split second and the next thing I know I’m flat out on the floor as they converse amongst themselves.
“I told you not to read her mind,” Mickle tsk’d.
“Do you think she hit her head?” Peter asked.
“I don’t know, but cover her mouth, I don’t think I can handle another screaming bout,” Ivan muttered.