Bailey sees Thomas Again

   "Lee, get out of here now," Darby screamed as Stephen lurched forward toward both of them, fangs bared and a look of death in his eyes. 

    Lee barely managed to slip past as Darby slammed herself into Stephen and wrapped her arms around his torso straining to keep him under control. He hissed and struggled against her grip.

   "Release me immediately, he's getting away!" Stephen demanded. But Darby held fast until Lee was out the door and she could no longer smell his scent. 

   "You foolish girl," Stephen spat once she had finally let him go. He glared at her and paced the floor in an angry circle. Darby looked down at her feet ashamed. Stephen only called her "girl" when he was angry or disappointed.

   "I couldn't let you fight him," she said, her voice small.

   "Kill him you mean," Stephen corrected. 

    Darby shook her head.

   "Lee is strong and he eats much more often than you do. There's no way to be sure you would win in a fight." 

   "Why are you with him?" Stephen asked suddenly. He looked up at Darby with pain filled eyes. "He already took one woman I loved away from me. And now he is trying to do it again." 

   Darby walked over to Stephen and reached up to put her hand on his shoulder but he pulled away and walked into the shadows of the darkened room. Darby sighed. 

   "Lee is not going to take me away from you. I won't let him."

   "That's what I thought about Michelle," Stephen told her. "And look how that ended."

   "I'm not Michelle," Darby assured him. "Whatever power Lee had over me is gone. The only person he may be able to influence here is Bailey. And I'm taking great care to make sure that doesn't happen." 

    "I don't think that will be an issue for a while," Stephen admitted. "When I left the house, Bailey was going downstairs to visit that human boy who used to be her friend.

    "Timothy?" Darby asked. Stephen shrugged. 

    "Something like that. Todd perhaps. I don't know."

   Stephen stepped out of the shadows and looked for a place to sit down. The only thing that presented itself was a dust covered chair that was a faded shade of red. 

  "I told her to be careful going down there though," he said, leaning down to brush the dust off the chair. It stuck fast to the fabric and after a couple of swipes he gave up.

  "She has been down there before," Darby said, unconcerned.  

  "Yes but it's been ten years and you know who is going to be waking up soon."

   Darby's eyes widened and she let out a gasp.

  "It can't possibly have been ten years yet." 

   Stephen nodded. 

  "Ten years next week," he said, walking over to the wall and running his finger around the edge of a dusty picture.

  "He's going to be hungry too so best to tell your girl Bailey to say her goodbyes to Theo. There will be no saving him once you know who catches his scent." 

   Darby shook her head and looked at Stephen in desperation.

  "I can't tell her that. She told me she wants to tell him what she really is. I think she loves him."

   Stephen scoffed. 

   "No good comes from a vampire loving a human. You and I both know that."

   "Yes but Bailey shouldn't have to. I can save her. Her and Travis," Darby insisted. 

   With that she flew from the room before Stephen could protest. He stood alone in the dark abandoned house listening to the sound of the gentle wind blowing through the leaves outside.

   "Well now that I've got rid of her, time to track down Lee's scent." 

   Bailey stood at the doorway to Thomas's cell. It had been a few days since she had been to see him and she had hoped by now she would have thought of an easy way to tell him about her transition. 

   "It just happened suddenly; before I could stop it," she thought to herself. Maybe if she came across as a victim it would be less intimidating for him. She fumbled nervously with the bottle of water and sleeve of crackers in her hands. The taste of food and drink seemed like a foreign memory now; something from another lifetime. She put the crackers in her left hand, wiped the sweat off her right one on her pants and reached up to unlatch the cell door. 

  "Hello? Thomas?" she called out softly, pushing the door open into the cell. In the dim light she could see his body laying perfectly in the corner. 

   "I waited too long. He's dead!" she panicked. Then realized it was almost midnight and he was merely asleep. Deciding to come back once it was morning, she turned and started to leave but his voice stopped her.

  "Bailey, is that you? Did they let you out again?" 

   She felt a twinge of guilt inside at the lie she had perpetuated. Thomas felt comforted knowing they were prisoners together, both suffering at the hands and whims of these monsters. How could she possibly tell him she was on their side without permanently alienating him?

   "Hello, Thomas," she whispered, turning back around. He sat up slowly rubbing his eyes. There was a hint of a smile on his face as Bailey sat down next to him. She handed him the water bottle and crackers but avoided making eye contact. 

   "I'm so glad they are letting you visit me now," Thomas said. He opened the water bottle and took a long drink. He held it out to Bailey but she shook her head. 

   "I already had mine," she lied, kicking herself internally. 

   "So they're treating you well then," Thomas said, tearing open the cracker sleeve and crunching on one. Crumbs flew from his mouth as he looked at Bailey expectantly.

   "Yes I am treated well," she admitted, still not able to look at him. She jumped slightly as she felt his fingertips running up and down her neck.

   "I don't feel any bite marks," Thomas observed. "Have they stopped feeding from you?" 

    His voice sounded so hopeful as if he couldn't bear the thought of her being tortured so cruelly. 

   "No they haven't been feeding off of me," she told him, turning to face him in the dim light. "But there's a reason for that. It's because-"

    Bailey's sentence was cut off by the door swinging wide open suddenly. She leapt to her feet and took a protective stance in front of Thomas. 

   "Bailey, are you ok? Is everything ok? What have you told him?" Darby gasped, looking from Bailey to Thomas who had shrunk back into the corner and hidden the crackers under his shirt. 

   "I haven't told him anything. I was about to and then you burst in and ruined it," Bailey hissed, glaring at Darby. 

   "I'm sorry," Darby said, her shoulders slumping as she realized she had ruined an important moment.

   "I didn't mean to freak you out but I came to warn you. If you want Tony to survive, you need to get him out of here as soon as possible." 

   "Uh, it's Thomas," said a voice from the corner. "And why are you two talking to each other like you're friends? 

   "Right about that," Bailey started turning around and looking nervously down at Thomas. 

    "The thing is I've been meaning to tell you that I'm now a...well I'm a-" 

    "So this is where the party's at," said a voice, interrupting Bailey's admission. She and Darby spun around simultaneously and came face to face with Lee. He had a huge grin on his face and Bailey couldn't help feeling a little weak in the knees as she seemed to do every time she saw him now.  It only last a second though before she remembered what she had been trying to say.

    "Why are you here?" Darby cut in, before Bailey could ask. 

    "I was hungry," Lee said with shrug. "And I knew Stephen would be hunting me as soon as you left, so I came back here. The last place he would look." 

    Lee peered over Darby and Bailey to see Thomas in the corner who now stood wobbling on his weak legs. 

   "Is this what we're snacking on today?" he asked, his fangs sticking out. "He looks delicious." 

   "No! You don't touch him," Bailey screamed, pushing her hand firmly against Lee's broad chest and hissing as loud as she could. 

    Lee jumped back startled and Darby backed away as Bailey's threatening gaze turned to her. She put her hands up in a gesture of innocence. 

   "I came here to help you save him," she assured her. Lee stood frozen in the doorway and Bailey could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on her, including Thomas's. She turned around to see his mouth open in shock, the forgotten packet of crackers on the floor at his feet. 

    She quickly retracted her fangs and looked at Thomas with wide scared eyes. This was it. He now knew she was a monster.

  "Lee, I think we should leave now," Darby's voice cut into the silence. She took his hand and pulled him away from the small dark room.

  "I think these two have a lot to talk about." 

Darby and Lee

 "Where were you? I've been waiting forever," Lee snapped as Darby walked into the room. He rose from a chair in a dark corner of the room and stood glaring at her. 

 "I had to make sure Bailey wasn't going to follow me," Darby snapped back, pushing the door shut behind her. It made a horrible screeching sound that made her flinch. 

 "We have to find a new meeting place," she said looking at the cobwebs and dust coating the room. "This place is falling apart." 

  "Yes it turns out no one comes to clean old abandoned houses," Lee sassed. "Who knew." 

   Darby rolled her eyes and looked around to see if any of the furniture was suitable for sitting. Deciding it wasn't, she walked over to the wall and leaned against it. 

  "You're the one who wanted to come here anyway," Lee added. "I was content staying in Steven's guest house." 

  "I know you were but nothing good can come of you being there." 

  "Now don't say stuff like that. It hurts my feelings," Lee said sweetly, stepping toward Darby and running a finger gently down her face. She grabbed his hand roughly and shoved it down. 

  "Don't touch me," she hissed, her eyes glowing red. Lee took a step back.

  "What has gotten into you?" he asked.

  "Into me? What is with you? Why are you even here?" Darby began to pace in frustration. She walked to a small window that looked out at the house's overgrown backyard. The tall grass was bathed in moonlight. 

 "Isn't it obvious? I want you back." Darby heard this and laughed aloud.

 "Is that why you waited twenty years to show up? Because you wanted me so badly?" 

 Lee rolled his eyes and collapsed back into his chair. 

 "Or maybe it's because of Steven?" 

 Darby laughed.

  "So you're scared of him now." 

  In a flash, Lee was behind her breathing into her ear. 

  "I'm not afraid of anyone." 

  Darby turned around and grinned wickedly. 

  "You're afraid of him," she said simply. Lee shivered and took a step back. 

  "I would be a fool not to be," he admitted. "You're just as afraid of him as I am."

  "You're not wrong," Darby agreed. "But if letting him out meant never having to see you again, I wouldn't hesitate." 

  "Wow, is that how you really feel?" Lee asked. Darby could hear the despondence in his voice and felt guilty for being so harsh. She ran a single finger down the dusty window and sighed.

  "You can't want me back when I was never yours," she told Lee. "Whatever we had was fun but it wasn't serious and we both knew that. Besides I couldn't hurt Steven like that." 

  Lee scoffed and shook his head. 

  "Really? You're worried about Steven?" he asked. "The one who keeps you locked up in his fortress so nothing and no one can take you away from him?" 

  "It's not like that," Darby argued, using her finger to trace another line on the window. A firefly landed on the outside of the glass and she watched its belly glow green and then fade back to dark. 

 "And now he has Bailey too. He's just collecting women so he doesn't have to face eternity alone." 

  Darby slammed a fist against the window cracking the glass into a spiderweb pattern and scaring off the firefly.

  "You have no idea what you're talking about," she growled. "I am the one who brought Bailey there. She's practically a child and she needed to be looked after." 

   She walked over to Lee and stood in front of his chair towering over him.

 "And you don't get to talk after you took Mary from him and then tried to take me too." 

  Ignoring Darby's previous warning not to touch her, Lee rose from his chair in a flash, put his hand around Darby's neck and pushed her across the room against the wall. At the impact, a picture frame broke loose from its nail and fell to the floor scattering glass everywhere. 

  Darby's eyes went wide and she tried desperately not to look afraid. As confident and strong as she was, deep down she knew that Lee was stronger. 

  "Don't play the victim here, Darby. You wanted me as much as I wanted you."

  "If you wanted me so badly, why did you leave? You let Steven scare you away and you left me alone," Darby said, feeling close to tears. 

  Lee loosened his grip on her neck but didn't let her step away from the wall.

  "It wasn't like that," he said softly. "You don't know the full story. The night I left, it wasn't Steven who scared me off it was-"

  Before he could finish his sentence, the front door of the house swung open and Steven walked into the room. 

  "Get away from her," he said to Lee through gritted teeth. Lee released Darby's neck and cautiously stepped back into the shadows. 

  "How did you find us?" Darby asked, running a hand over her neck that was sore from Lee's choking grasp.

  "Bailey told me you were at your "place." She wanted to follow you but you left before she woke up."

  Darby rolled her eyes. 

  "I knew it," she muttered. 

  "Why are you here, Steven?" Lee wanted to know. "I left your house. That was what you wanted. You won." 

   Steven shook his head and took a step into the room.

  "No, not yet," he countered. "I won't really win until you're gone forever. So I'm here to kill you."

  I still remember the last time I saw her face, her tan skin crinkled as a wide smile lit up her dark brown eyes. Her usually brunette hair had streaks of blonde running through it from hours in the summer sun. She tossed her head back laughing at a joke one of the boys told. Most of what they were saying was nonsense to me but it was worth listening to if it made her happy. Everything was better when she there and life seemed lacking when she wasn't. 

 

  The light from the setting sun seemed to curl around her body as she gracefully danced through the sand. She reached out for my hand inviting me to dance with her. To feel joy and peace and completeness with her. I willingly put my hand in hers trusting her to lead me into a world I'd never known and could never imagine. The sound of the waves, the laughter of the boys, the mournful call of the seagulls become a distant whisper barely perceptible through the exquisite sound of her heart beating. 

  She pulls me into the swells of the ocean and uses her free hand to splash the cool clear water over my body. I shiver with pleasure and splash her back watching each drop of water caress her smooth skin. She closes her eyes and faces into the wind letting it stream over her shoulders and through every tendril of her hair, her chest swelling with a deep breath of sweet evening air. I find myself wishing I could breathe her in forever, an exquisite high that would never end. 

 

 In a moment she turns and we are face to face. Her lips brush a gentle path across my cheek and as they reach my ear, they part and deliver a message more beautiful than all the colors of the sunset: "I love you." 

 In another moment I am walking the beach alone. The sun, the sea, the sand hold no color. There is no sweet music in the air for her to dance to, no hand extends to grab mine and show me the beauty in life and in love. The waves lap against my legs not in a welcoming embrace but a shameful slap as if demanding to know how I let her get away. The gulls call out asking, pleading for me to bring her back. When will she come back? But I remain silent. 

 The sun is setting into the sea but I am numb to the streaks of orange and pink it leaves in its wake. Somehow it feels as if I am losing her all over again with the passing of the daylight. I will be left in darkness without her smile to light my path, without her soft words to guide me, her gentle eyes to watch over me. 

  

  I am stuck in this moment forever. The perpetual setting of the sun and the perpetual loss of her, my love. 

  Juliene, sweet Juliene, come find me. I'll be here forever...waiting for you...

** inspired by the song Juliene by Daya

  

Bailey Hears a Story

   "Where have you been?" Stephen demanded, appearing out of the shadows. Michelle shut the door behind her and pulled her hood back revealing her long beautiful hair.

   "I was hunting with...friends," Michelle said tactfully. She slid across the floor to her coffin and opened the lid. 

  "You mean with Lee," Stephen corrected, the name hanging in the air between them. 

  "So what if I did?" Michelle asked. "He is a friend."

  "He is your friend," Stephen corrected. "Not mine." 

   Michelle leaned her backside against the coffin and ran her delicately painted fingernail back and forth on the rim of it. Her lips curled into an evil smile.

   "Is someone jealous?" she teased. Stephen glared at her.

   "I'm not jealous I'm worried. You've totally changed since you started spending time with him."

    Michelle rolled her eyes and dropped her teasing persona. 

   "This again? Before you said I was too soft, now I've changed and that is also wrong. What are you looking for, Stephen? The perfect vampire woman?" 

   "Maybe I am," Stephen shot back, running a finger through his hair in exasperation. "Would that be so wrong? Wanting to spend eternity with the perfect person?" 

   "And you think you are the perfect man, is that it?" Michelle demanded. Taking a step toward Stephen folding her arms across her chest. 

   "You think you are perfect so you hole yourself up inside this dim dingy castle because you cant condescend to grace other lesser vampires with your presence." 

   "Yes I am. I am better than them and better than any other vampire that has ever lived." 

   "There's no way Stephen said that," Bailey cut in. "I haven't known him for very long but that's just too unbelievable."

    Lee sat back against the couch cushion and smiled coyly. 

   "I'm just telling you the story how I remember it," he said shrugging. George rolled his eyes rising from the chair he was sitting in and stretching his arms over his head. 

   "Isn't it about time we all went to sleep?" he asked. "Darby's already been asleep for like two hours." 

   "You can go to bed if you'd like. I want to hear more of Lee's story," Bailey said to George. 

  George walked over where his coffin leaned against the wall and pulled the lid open. 

    "Suit yourself but just remember, every story has two sides and the truth," he advised, stepping into the coffin and resting his body against the plush velvet insides. 

    "Oh George, you are ever so wise," Lee mused. George rolled his eyes and pulled the lid closed before Lee could taunt him anymore. 

    Bailey shifted nervously on the chair where she sat. She had meant what she said about wanting to hear more of Lee's story but now that she was alone with him face to face, she felt intimidated. The way his eyes looked at her made it feel as if he could see into her soul. 

   "So um...Stephen doesn't like you because you stole Michelle from him?" 

   "You can't steal something that comes with you willingly," Lee quipped. 

   "But she chose you over him," Bailey submitted. 

   "Wouldn't you?" the handsome vampire asked, pushing himself up from the couch and taking a step toward Bailey. She felt her muscles tense and she scooted back as far into her chair as she could. Lee continued to move forward, his lips curled up in a friendly smile, his arm muscles bulging against the sleeves of his shirt. 

   Bailey opened her mouth to reply to him or kiss him, she wasn't sure which, but before she could decide, Darby had shot across the room from her coffin and stood firmly in between them. Lee's face stayed frozen in the same smile but he took a small step back. 

   "She would never choose you," Darby spat. "Especially if she knew the whole story." 

   "You mean the story that Stephen tells," Lee argued. 

   "It's ok," Bailey cut in. "I already know Lee stole Michelle from Stephen." 

    Darby kept her back turned to Bailey but audibly scoffed. 

   "Is that what you think? He didn't steal her he-" 

   Lee held up a hand in front of Darby's face and his eyes went from kind to full of anger. 

   "Don't you dare say it," he warned. Darby considered him for a moment and decided to hold her tongue. 

   "Bailey, go to bed," Darby ordered, staring straight at Lee with a look just as stern as his. 

   "Aw don't send her off now," Lee protested. "We were about to have such a good time together."

   In the blink of an eye, Lee maneuvered around Darby to Bailey's chair and stood behind her with one hand clamped firmly around her throat. 

   Bailey flinched and looked at Darby in fear. Just as quickly, Darby rushed at Lee pushing him across the room and slamming him hard against the wall with a resounding thud. 

   "Lay a single finger on her again and I will let him out of the dungeon and tell him exactly where you are," Darby threatened.

   Bailey had no idea to whom she was referring but it was enough to erase the smile from Lee's face fear creep into his eyes.

   "He's still in there?" 

   Darby nodded, knowing she had won this one. Sure enough Lee nodded humbly and agreed to her terms.

  "I won't touch the girl. I was just teasing anyway," he said, looking over at Bailey who stood quivering next to her chair. 

  "Get out," Darby told him, releasing her grip. "Take my cloak and go to our place. I'll meet you there later tonight." 

  Lee looked at Darby, back at Bailey and then without another word, took a black cloak from a hanger by the door, pulled it over him and disappeared out the door.

  Darby exhaled as if she'd been holding her breath the whole time. She looked Bailey up and down.

  "Did he hurt you?" 

   Bailey shook her head remembering the feeling of his hand against her throat. Had it been exciting or terrifying, she wondered. Maybe both.

  "You should get some sleep. Lee is gone for now but he will be back. Don't worry though, he won't touch you again." 

   Bailey couldn't tell if that made her happy or sad.

  "You said if he did you would get 'him' from the dungeon. Who did you mean?" 

  Darby shook her head as she walked across the room to her coffin.

   "That is a story for another day," she said.  "Get some sleep." 

   The lid to her coffin closed and Bailey was alone. Her mind was abuzz with questions. Why did Michelle choose Lee over Stephen? Who was the person Lee was so afraid of in the dungeon? And where was the place Darby referred to? 

    Bailey knew the only way to answer the last question: she would have to follow Darby. Laying down on the couch, she threw a blanket over herself in lie of a coffin lid and tried to quiet her mind till she could fall asleep. 

Under A Spell Pt. 3

 "He said I am to be his wife. It doesn't make any sense," Marguerite said to Isabella. They sat together in the kitchen, Isabella chopping vegetables while Marguerite stared at the wall. 

"Why else did you think he had brought you here?" Isabella said with a flat tone in her voice. Marguerite contemplated this. What had she thought was going to happen after William heaved her up onto his horse and took her away? After putting her under a spell obligating her to do whatever he said, why not seal it with marriage vows? 

 "The woman at the tavern said he has done this same thing to many women. Am I to assume he has many wives already? What happened to them?" 

  Isabella shook her head as she began cutting into a carrot. 

 "Master William does not have a wife right now. But he did once. She was a young beautiful girl named Alanna. Her mother and father betrothed her to William when she was barely more than a baby. As they grew together, William loved her but she always resented him and her obligation to him."

  "She was forced to go through with the marriage but no one could convince her to love and respect him as a husband. She shirked all her wifely duties and refused to show him any kindness or affection. One morning Master William woke up and she was simply gone. Rumor has it she was secretly in love with another man and he came in the night to take her away." 

 "So now he is so desperate for a woman to love and obey him that he uses a magic spell to bend them to his will?" 

 "Desperate is such an ugly word," William's voice drawled. Marguerite jumped off of her stool and Isabella dropped the knife she held. William stood in the doorway holding a half-eaten apple and smirking. Marguerite found herself drawn to him despite everything she'd just heard. 

 "I have never been desperate for a woman," William continued, stepping into the room. The midday sun shone through the window and seemed to add a sparkle to his eyes. 

 "I simply know exactly what I want from them and the best way to get it." 

 "So you're a wizard then?" Marguerite postured. William took another bite of apple and the clear juice dripped off his chin. 

 "A student of the dark arts, yes. But not a wizard. It took me many years to perfect this spell and so far it has profited me nothing. But that is all about to change tonight," he said, walking up to Marguerite and putting a single finger under her chin. 

 "Smile for me," he said simply, and Marguerite felt the corners of her mouth turn upward in compliance.

  "My beautiful bride. You will find your dress in you room. Go put it on and make yourself pretty for me. We will be wed at sunset." 

  "Yes of course," Marguerite answered. William bent over her hand and kissed it, then left the kitchen leaving his soon to be bride staring after him. 

  "There was another woman once," Isabella said after he'd gone. "Another woman he'd put under his spell. She died giving birth to his child and the little one passed soon after. He was in so much pain I thought he would never find another love. Until you came along." 

  Marguerite looked over at Isabella who seemed to be frowning now as she put the cut up vegetables into a pot. 

 "You best go and get dressed," she suggested. "I'll be up to help you in a bit." 

  Marguerite left the kitchen and trudged up the stairs to her room. Sure enough there was a beautiful long white gown laid across her bed with long sleeves and lace around the neck. She held it up to herself and spun around. A small part of her felt the urge to throw the dress down and run away but even stronger was her desire to obey William. 

 "It's perfect," she said to herself with a smile.

 "And I'm sure it would have looked perfect on you," Isabella said from the doorway. Marguerite looked up to see her standing there staring intently, the vegetable chopping knife clasped firmly in her hand. 

 "What are you doing, Isabella?" Marguerite asked, her voice quaking. 

 "I am stopping Master William from making another mistake," Isabella said, taking a step forward. Her eyes were wide and seemed to dart all around taking in the whole room at once. Her hand grasped the knife so firmly her knuckles were white and she kept the tip pointed right at Marguerite. 

 "Alanna didn't run away to be with another man. I woke her up in the night and put this knife to her throat and told her to leave and never come back. And the other one. I let her bleed out on her bed and did naught to save her. Neither of them deserved to be with William. Only I do. Only I have been loyal to him and loved him all these years. It should be me wearing that white dress walking to meet him, not you."

  Isabella's voice rose to a shrill pitch and she raised the knife over her head. Marguerite took a step back and screamed as the knife came down. She ducked to the side and it glanced across her shoulder cutting open her dress and slicing into her skin. 

 Wincing, she managed to slide around Isabella and make a break for the door. Yanking it open, she lunged forward and landed in the arms of William. 

 "My love, why are you screaming?" he asked, lines of concern across his face. He took in the image of Isabella behind his bride holding up a knife and immediately pulled Marguerite away.

"What do you think you're doing?" he yelled, his voice echoing in the hallway. Isabella dropped the knife and looked at William with pleading eyes. 

 "I was doing this for you," she told him. "For us. You don't love her. You don't need her. You have me." 

 "Isabella, what are you saying?" William asked. 

 "I am saying I want to be with you," she told him, taking a careful step forward and offering a pitiful smile. "That's why I got rid of the others and why I was about to be rid of her," she explained, gesturing at Marguerite as if she were a piece of unwanted trash.

"I want to be your bride, William," Isabella cooed. "I love you." 

"Do you now?" William asked, a coy smirk on his face. Isabella nodded happily, unaware of the precarious situation her heartfelt words had landed her in. 

"Well then, do as I tell you now. Walk away from my house and never return." 

 As Isabella heard his words, the smile vanished from her face and a look of horror replaced it. 

"Why are you making me do this?" she asked, her eyes filling with tears as her feet moved to obey. 

"You do not love me," William answered shortly. "If you did, you'd not have tried to kill my bride or my other wives. You disgust me and I wish to never see you again." 

  Isabella walked past William and raised a hand to caress his face one last time but he batted it away. 

 "Be gone, you evil wench," he spat at her. Her tears turned to sobs as she disappeared unwillingly down the hall. 

  When she was gone and the house was quiet again, William turned to Marguerite.

 "Now where were we, my love? Ah yes, you were about to put on that beautiful-" 

  William stopped midsentence and his eyes went wide with shock. His skin became deathly pale and he looked down at the knife sticking out of his chest. Marguerite stood in front of him, her hands shaking. 

 "It seems your spell only works on one woman at a time," she told him. 

 "When Isabella declared her love for you, I felt as if I'd woken from a dream and I saw you for who you really are: a conniving and controlling wretch of a man. I'd sooner kiss a toad and hope to find a prince than to marry you. And now, no one else will have to suffer at your hands." 

  William collapsed on the floor at Marguerite's feet, his breath coming in short little bursts. 

  "My darling," he gasped, reaching out to touch her. She skirted past him and looked down with disgust.

  "You will die the way you lived: alone and unloved."

 Marguerite pulled her skirts out his reach and walked away resolutely as William took his last breaths. 

  

  Reader be warmed by this tale of Marguerite and William and be careful to whom you give your heart. For many people are not who they seem. 

Under A Spell Pt. 2

   I felt myself bobbing up and down on William's horse, felt his arms around me holding me tightly, felt the cold wet rain against my face. How did I get here? The last thing I could remember clearly was asking Jillian about the mysterious man in the corner and then walking to his table to share a drink. Everything after that was a blur. And now I was here. On a horse with a stranger riding deeper and deeper into the woods. 

  How long had we been riding and in what direction? Why did I agree to go with him in the first place? I had been to many inns and taverns and been sweet talked by many men but I always had the good sense and self control not to leave with them. Until now.

  "Where are we going?" I asked, turning my head as much as I could. But either my voice was too quiet to be heard over the wind and rain or William pretended not to hear me. 

  William. That was his name. Why was that what I remembered and not anything else? And why did the sight of his face even in the darkness spark a sense of joy inside me? 

  We rode for what seemed like an eternity until finally we came to a clearing with a large stone house in the middle of it. The rain had diminished to a light mist and the first rays of dawn were beginning to pick their way through the tree branches. William pulled on the horse's reins and it slowed to a walk and then finally stopped at the front door of the house. 

  I slid off the horse and William followed. Before I could ask where we were and why, the large front door opened and a man in a dirty white shirt and simple brown slacks walked out to greet us. He was older than William, his hair graying, but he gave a friendly smiled and a wave.

  "Be so kind as to stable my horse and give her some fresh hay, Anthony," William said to the man. He said nothing, just smiled and gave a slight bow of his head, then took the horse's reins and led her away. 

  William stepped in front of me then and spread his arms wide as if he could encompass the entirety of the large stone building before us.

  "Welcome to your new home," he told me with a shameless grin. I stood there dumbly and could only muster one word in response:

   "Why?" 

   "Oh my dear, you look so cold," William told me, ignoring my posed question. "Let's get you inside and into some warm clothes. Although I am rather fond of this dress," he told me, eyeing me up and down. 

    "We can save it for a special occasion," he said with a wink. Taking my hand, he pulled me toward the door that stood open still and inside the house. The circular entryway was dimly lit by one simple candelabra on an ornate wooden table. Across from me was a wide stone staircase and descending it was a woman in a simple black dress. 

  "Isabella, this is Marguerite. She will be staying here with us now. Take her upstairs. You know what room. Light her a fire and let her rest. She has had a long night," William instructed. Isabella nodded and took me by the hand, leading me upstairs.

  I followed her down a long hallway to a door. She pushed it open and I stepped in to a large room. On one side was a bed big enough for two covered in colorful blankets. Next to it stood an ornate wooden wardrobe and across the room from that was a small vanity with a short little cushioned stool and a mirror. 

  Isabella instantly set to work lighting me a fire and I sat on the edge of the bed playing with the ends of my hair.

 "Take off your wet boots and dress," she said to me, as the fire sparked to life and she rose to her feet. Dumbly I nodded and slipped off my wet boots. Peeling the soaked green dress from my body I let it fall in a pile at my feet. As I stepped out of it, Isabella knelt and picked it up. I stood before her in my stockings and simple white shift. 

 "In the wardrobe you will find all the clothes you need. Take a rest and I will fetch you in a bit. Master William will want to see you. 

 "Oh yes, thank you," I replied. Isabella looked at me strangely for a second, then bowed her head slightly and left the room carrying my wet things. 

  I wriggled out of my wet shift and stockings and opened the wardrobe. As Isabella had promised, there was everything I needed inside of it. I quickly pulled on a fresh clean shift and dry stockings and crawled into bed under the soft blankets. The fire was beginning to warm the room and I laid my head against the pillow. I still couldn't remember how I got here but Isabella had said William would see me later. Surely he would answer all my questions. I put the worries out of my mind and let myself fall asleep.

  

  I was awakened by the sound of persistent knocking on my door. I sat up slowly and yawned, stretching my arms above my head. 

  "Come in," I muttered sleepily as I rubbed my eyes. Isabella entered and dropped me a small curtsey.

  "Master William wishes to see you now," she said softly. She padded over to the wardrobe, opened it and pulled out a lovely dark red dress. 

   "He will like you to wear this," she instructed. I swung my legs to the side of the bed out from under the blankets and stood before Isabella. I felt like a doll as she put the dress over my head and let the dark red fabric fall around me. The back of the dress plunged down in a deep V shape and had buttons down the whole skirt. Isabella fastened each one and then motioned for me to sit back down. Taking my boots from in front of the fire, she knelt before me and slid them onto my feet. When they were both securely laced, she rose to her feet. 

   Looking me up and down, she smiled as if satisfied at my appearance. I glanced over at the mirror on the vanity to see my reflection. My hair had dried in large delicate waves that cascaded over the beautiful new dress. 

  "My master will be pleased," Isabella assured me. She took my hand again and led me from my room down the hall and back to the stairs. We walked up to the third and final floor and she stopped in front of a pair of double doors. She knocked, turned and curtsied to me and then hurried away. 

  "Come in," said a voice. It was William's. I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It was larger than my bedroom with bookshelves lining three of the walls, a desk in the center and in front of me stood a sofa where William sat smiling. 

   "Sit by me," he said invitingly. "I want to see you."

   I was nervous but felt oddly compelled to do exactly as he had told me. Walking to the sofa I sat down next to him and spread my skirts around me. 

   "You look exquisite," he said, running a finger gently down my cheek. I felt chills go up and down my spine. Was that excitement or fear?

   "How did I get here?" I asked suddenly without thinking. "Why did I leave the tavern with you?"

   William pulled his hand away.

   "My dear Marguerite, do you not remember? You said you loved me and you begged me to take you home with me." 

   "I did?" I asked, trying desperately to remember. 

   "Oh it hurts me so much that you recall so little of our first meeting. I thought for sure after your rest it would all come back to you." 

   "I suppose if you say that is what happened then it must have," I admitted, looking off into space. I had never been so foolish before as to tell a man I loved him on our first meeting. But perhaps there was something special about William.

   "Of course that is what happened," William said, taking his hand in mine. He squeezed it gently and I looked into his dark blue eyes. 

   Suddenly in an instant I remembered everything: asking Jillian who he was, her warning to stay away from him and the stories she had heard that he could cast a spell over a woman who said-

   "You tricked me!" I exclaimed, pushing his hand away and jumping to my feet. "You tricked me into saying that I loved you so you could get me under your spell and-"

   "Marguerite, shut your mouth and sit down," William ordered sternly. It was the last thing I wanted to do but even as my mind resisted it, I felt my body obey. 

   "Control me," I finished my sentence as I sank back against the sofa. 

   "I wanted you to remember our first meeting a little differently but even my magic is not strong enough to change someone's memory. It is true, you are under my spell now. But it is nothing to fear," William said, his tone becoming suddenly gentle and comforting. 

   "I am not here to hurt you or cause you to suffer. In fact, things will only get better for you from here on out," he assured me, stroking my hair.

   "What...what do you mean? Where am I? Why have you brought me here?"

   "Oh my dear is it not obvious?" William said, rising to his feet with a chuckle. "You are in my home. And the reason I brought you here is simple. You are of course to become my wife."

Under A Spell

  Marguerite pushed open the door to the tavern and threw off the hood of her cloak. The curly red hair around her face was wet and clung to her cheeks. She could feel the warmth from the fire in the dining room caress her cold limbs through the thick wetness of her cloak. Within seconds she was approached by a short friendly looking woman with a smile just as warm. Her brown hair was pulled back into a simple bun and her heavy frame was draped in a plain blue dress covered by a dirty apron. 

  "My goodness, dearie, come and get warm by the fire. I'll fix you a bowl of soup and pour you a mug of ale." 

   The woman pulled her by the hand around the maze of tables filled with loud drunken men shouting over each other to a small table by the fire with two wooden chairs.

  "That's very kind of you," Marguerite responded gratefully, slipping out of her cloak and revealing a long flowy emerald green dress with a plunging neckline covered in black lace. 

   "Well you'll catch the eye of every man in here with a dress like that," the woman said eyeing Marguerite up and down. 

   "Thank you, it cost me a pretty penny," she admitted. She sat down on one of the chairs while the lady hung her wet cloak on a peg. 

  "My name is Marguerite by the way."

  "Jillian," the lady said, giving her another warm smile. "I'll be back in just a moment with your food."

 She walked away briskly disappearing through a door into the kitchen. Marguerite rubber her hands together slowly getting the feeling back into the tips of her fingers. A rowdy tavern was not her favorite place to be on a rainy cold night but the promise of warm soup made up for some of the noise. 

  As she looked around the room she noticed another small table in the corner across from her where only one chair sat. The man in it had short black hair that seemed to shine even in the dim firelight and eyes as blue as the sea. They seemed to be looking at all of her at once and as she looked back at him, his thin lips curved upward in a sly smirk. 

  "Who is that man over there?" Marguerite asked Jillian as she came back to the table carrying a bowl of steaming soup and a mug filed with ale. She set them down and looked where Marguerite pointed.

   "Oh you'll want to stay far away from that one, miss," Jillian said, her previously happy face turning deadly serious. 

   "People around here tell strange tales about his power over women."

   "Power?" Marguerite laughed. "I'm not sure I would consider flirting to be a man's power."

    "I don't speak of flirting, miss. Folks say he can put a woman under his spell. As soon as the words "I love you" pass her lips, she is his slave forever and must obey his every word." 

    "Surely you don't believe that," Marguerite answered, pushing her long red hair over her shoulder as she leaned forward to take a spoonful of soup. The hot liquid on her tongue sent warm shivers down her body.

    "I'm not saying I believe it but I also am not calling anyone a liar."

     Marguerite looked back at the man in the corner. She had been on the road for what seemed like an eternity always having to take care of herself and find her own way. It might be nice to have a man to lean on for a change. 

   "I'm going to sit with him for a bit," she decided, picking up her mug of ale and rising from the table.

   "As you like, miss," Jillian said with a small sigh. "But I'm warning you, don't say you love the man. Whisper as many sweet nothings in his ear as you like. Tell him he is kissed by the gods. By golly tell him he is a god himself. But don't say the words 'I love you." 

  Marguerite smiled and shook her head. 

    "You're sweet to worry about me so but I will be alright. I have met many men in my travels and none of them have ever gotten one over on me." 

   Marguerite smoothed her skirts and strode confidently toward the corner table. Jillian followed behind with the bowl of soup muttering under breath. 

     "Good evening, fair lady," the man said, rising as soon as Marguerite approached. He gave her a slight bow and she dropped a small curtsey in return. Jillian pulled a chair from one of the surrounding tables letting the legs screech loudly across the floor. Reluctantly she set it down at the man's table and plopped the bowl of soup down in front of it.

    "Thank you, Jillian," Marguerite responded, ignoring her obvious bad mood. "More ale please for me and-" she stopped and looked at the man.

   "William," he finished. Jillian gave them both a hard stare and then swiveled on one heel and disappeared behind the bar. 

   "The rain is making her joints sore," Marguerite explained, not wanting to divulge the ridiculous tales she'd just heard about this handsome stranger. 

   "And what brings a lovely lady like you into a place like this?" William asked, leaning forward with an elbow on the table. He wore a crisp white shirt with a tie-up collar and frills on the cuffs. 

   "I am a simple traveler looking for shelter from the storm," she answered, batting her eyelids gently. 

   "There is nothing simple about you," William countered. "You're exquisite." 

   Marguerite felt herself blush as Jillian came back with two mugs bubbling over with ale. She set them roughly down on the table without a word and walked away. 

   "I don't think she likes me," William whispered, taking a sip from his mug.

   "She is just jealous because I have all your attention," Marguerite said. "Or is that presumptuous?" 

   "Not at all, my dear. You have already fascinated me. I must know everything about you." 

   For the next hour Marguerite regaled her new friend with all the stories of her travels and all the people she had met along the way. Jillian came back occasionally to refill her mug of ale, always with a stone cold face and not a single word spoken. After a while she noticed her words beginning to slur and the room seemed to be wobbling. 

    "I think I've had one mug too many," she told William. She hiccupped and looked down at her now empty mug.

    "That is my fault," William admitted. "I was so drawn in by your stories I did not pay attention to how much you were drinking. You're so beautiful you make me forget everything else around me."

    He looked at her intently, his blue eyes shining. Marguerite smiled back, leaning slightly to one side. 

    "I don't usually say this to women I just met but I feel so compelled. Marguerite I think I love you," William told her. 

     Marguerite's eyes lit up but even as she blushed, something in the back of her mind told her something was wrong. 

   "He's not supposed to say that. Or I'm not supposed to say that. Which was it?" Marguerite tried to make sense of her jumbled thoughts but she was in such a drunken stupor it was no use. 

   "Come, my darling. Say you love me too," William pleaded, taking her delicate hand in his. She could feel her heart beat faster and she nodded.

    "I do, I do love you," she told him.

  William let go of her hand then and sat back in his chair. His face seemed to disappear into the darkness behind him but Marguerite could see what looked like an evil smile. She felt an odd sensation like chills go up and down her body and a warm happy feeling inside at the sight of William. 

   "What is happening?" she said out loud, not really to anyone in particular. 

   "You told me you loved me," William reminded her. "And now I have all the power." 

   In an instant, it all came rushing back. Jillian's words about the spell he could cast, her warning not to declare feelings of love for him. Had it all been true? Suddenly she felt stone cold sober and feelings of panic rose in her chest. 

    "Now you're going to get up from your chair, gather your cloak and meet me outside," William said. Marguerite heard his words and before she could think, she felt herself moving to obey. 

    William stood up, pushed his chair under the table and walked past her to the door. He disappeared through it as she walked across the room to where her cloak hung on a peg. 

    "Miss, are you alright?" Jillian asked, suddenly appearing by her elbow. 

    "I don't know," Marguerite said, absentmindedly. She took her cloak from the peg and threw it over her shoulders. 

    "What did he do to you?" Jillian wanted to know. She followed Marguerite across the room but to no avail. She walked through the door without even a look over her shoulder. 

     Jillian stood in the open doorway as rain poured down around her and watched as Marguerite climbed onto William's horse in front of him, he put his arms around hers and together they disappeared into the darkness of the forest.