Lucas had only whetted his appetite with Elizabeth. He'd forced himself to be careful with her and now he needed more to satisfy his appetite. It had been hard to hold himself back but he had hurt her enough. It was too bad that he'd had to teach her such a painful lesson, but it had been necessary. He hoped he would not have to repeat it.
He turned his big Ford in the direction of Gail Emory's house. Once he'd thought that Gail Emory would provide him with his second heir, now he was not so sure. Like Judith Temple, Gail was just an ordinary woman—a beautiful ordinary woman. What she possessed was a fire that he admired, she wasn't afraid to tell him she hated him while still willing to give in to the physical attraction that both of them felt.
Selena Coombs had a ruthless beauty and animal nature that had drawn him to her when he first laid eyes on the seductive teacher. She also lacked a moral compass which aided her willingness to do whatever he asked of her. At first, she had been an asset but now that there were other women in the picture, Selena was rapidly outgrowing her usefulness.
Elizabeth Bates was another matter. Not only was she beautiful, but she also possessed the power of the witches. What he did not know about Salem Witches could fill a book, but a baby conceived with Elizabeth might possess powers that he could not begin to guess at. Perhaps the baby would be more formidable than either of its parents, but with the proper guidance, they could steer it in the direction they chose?
She was not as strong as him, he'd been able to subdue her, but he was not sure how long that would last. He was afraid of her mind awakening and remembering what had happened and then what? If she attempted to flee, could he stop her? What if there were others she could call on for help? She might be more formidable than he supposed.
But what a child they could make! Caleb could be cast aside unless he proved himself worthy, but even then, her child might thwart him if it chose. What would it be like to co-mingle his genes with hers? This child would be a Buck like no other.
She was no ordinary woman; she was a witch. Perhaps she could maintain control of her body prevent the pregnancy from affecting her as it had Gail Emory and Judith Temple. If she sensed something was wrong, could she blast the baby from her body? At all costs he would want this child to be born, but what if she could prevent it?
He had consulted his vast library of books and had found nothing about bearing a child by a witch, especially a Salem witch. She was an unknown quantity, a new frontier, perhaps his ancestors had mated with witches before but he found nothing of consequence to go on. There were no true witches in South Carolina although voodoo was common enough. Perhaps he should search further afield to find answers.
One thing was certain. He had to convince her to remove the birth control implant from her arm.
Gail Emory had become accustomed to Lucas and his habit of "showing up." She suspected there was more to the sheriff than met the eye but was afraid to put a name to it. He would suddenly be there, sitting in an armchair in her living room, or lying in her bed. Sometimes she felt like she was under a spell, she did not truly like Lucas Buck but she found herself drawn to him.
Tonight, however, he knocked at the door. It was late, but she opened the door for him and he strode into her living room. She could almost smell a hint of brimstone, but tonight a fire seemed to be trailing him.
"What do you want, Lucas?" she asked as if she didn't know.
He crushed her in a painful embrace, "You, naked in your bed and willing."
"What if I say no? It's late, I'm tired and I'd like to go to sleep." She was willing him to leave but he would have none of it.
"Not tonight," he picked her up in his strong arms and carried her to her bed, "Tonight I want you, no questions asked. You can try and say no another time."
There was no telling him no and she knew this. Lucas was like a force, there was no resisting but tonight he seemed, well, off. He was making love to her but his mind seemed to be elsewhere, not on her.
"You wanted to do this but your heart doesn't seem to be in it." She looked at him, trying to penetrate the mask that was his face.
"I'm just tired from the pressures of running this town. You know I'm always glad to be with you, darlin."
"Well, would you mind terribly if I went to sleep, I have to work tomorrow. Good night, Lucas," she said with meaning.
Lucas dressed and slipped silently out. He turned on the radio in his car, then turned it off, preferring to drive in silence.
He chided himself for being so rough with Elizabeth, he could have enjoyed her bed this night but now he had to wait a week or more. How long would it take her to get pregnant after her implant was removed? How hard would it be to move Gail and Selena—who would be a problem, he knew—out of his life.
He went to bed and slept deeply and dreamlessly and woke up feeling more rested than he had in a long time. He had finally made up his mind, after all. The mother of his next child would be the Salem Witch.
Elizabeth woke up in her bed, not remembering how she had gotten there. The last thing she could remember was finding Lucas sitting on her couch and then her memory was fuzzy, perhaps from the Demerol she had taken? But she hadn't taken that much, only the prescribed dose.
Maybe the Demerol had caused her to fall asleep and rather than leaving her to sleep on the couch all night he had been thoughtful and put her in her bed. But why were her clothes off?
She sat up, her muscles still aching but some of the pain had eased. She was still badly bruised but she was sure it would have been worse if not for the intervention of Lucas. He'd told her that he and Deputy Healy had interrupted her attackers before they had killed her and she was grateful. What if he hadn't arrived in time?
It was painful getting out of bed, but she forced herself to put her feet on the floor then make her way to the kitchen to prepare her coffee. Lucas had thoughtfully put in fresh grounds and filled the carafe with water, all she needed to do was turn it on.
Sunlight was coming in through her yellow curtains. It was funny how little she could remember these days, some things were crystal clear but other memories faded and became distant as if they had happened a long time ago. Maybe when she stopped taking the Demerol this would stop and life would return to normal.
She took a step, then stopped, paralyzed, holding onto the edge of the counter for support. A bright light seemed to be exploding in her head and she could see shadows and hear voices but the words seemed garbled and what should make sense didn't.
"Stop!" she cried out, not knowing what was happening or why. The light was making her head ache until it stopped as quickly as it started. She tumbled to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair and sat down, breathing heavily, then laid her head on the smooth surface of the table.
This was the first time she had experienced a spirit attack, although members of her coven had spoken of them. It was not a good sign, sometimes it was a warning, sometimes it was an all-out attack by a hostile spirit. It could be something aimless, perpetuated by a force that she had simply been in the way of. For now, she would ignore it, but she would attempt to find her sage bundles and smudge the house just in case.
The coffee was done and she got up and poured herself a mug of the hot, steaming liquid. She sat on the couch and blew on the surface then took a long drink.
Then it happened again, but this time the voice was familiar, Lucas telling her that she had brought it on herself and she would be wise to not let it happen a second time.
"Don't let him do this to you again." Elizabeth looked around, she had heard a girl's voice, she had distinctly heard a girl's voice but there was no one there.
"Where are you, why are you talking to me? What are you trying to tell me?" She waited but nothing happened. The light that had come back faded to nothing and nothing was left but the sunlight streaming in through the curtains.
She was sure that Lucas had done nothing to her, but the voice had been so clear. She closed her eyes and for a moment she could feel Lucas's hands on her, gentle, then ruthless, and cruel. He had had her again and again until her insides had burned and she had begged him, without success, to stop.
No! This was not what had happened. She liked Lucas, he had taken care of her when she'd been injured by the invaders. He had been a careful, considerate, and very satisfying lover. He could not be the man who had brutalized her so cruelly. And now he was taking such good care of her!
"You can't trust him, you can't!" There, the girl's voice again, telling her things she did not believe. As soon as she was well, she would ask her aunt to send a medium to her so she could read the house. The house was older, after all, built sometimes in the nineteen-twenties. Old houses attracted spirits.
She took a shower and dressed, then went to the spare room to resume setting up her altar. Everything was as it was before she was attacked, her crystals even lay in a pile in the bottom of a box. She picked them up and placed them carefully on her alter, the sun catching their light and making them sparkle.
She lit the candles and a stick of incense, then sat back to meditate on the picture of serenity she had created—until the statue of Horus flew off the altar, barely missing her.
"Who are you? What do you want from me? What are you trying to tell me?" The same questions she had asked before. As if in answer, the candles snuffed out and the room grew cold.
"Beware of Lucas Buck," the girl's voice repeated, and Elizabeth felt the world grow dark.
Lucas rang her doorbell, waiting on the porch in frustration as he received no response. He jiggled the door handle, but it was locked and no matter how he tried he could not get it to yield. "Elizabeth!" he called, and then again, "Elizabeth," but she did not answer.
He drew from his pocket the set of lock picks he carried with him. The lock yielded under his careful ministrations and he opened the door, only to feel a rush of cold air flow past him.
He looked in her bedroom, then went to the spare room and found her lying on the floor, the statue of Horus not far from her feet.
"Elizabeth, Elizabeth," he patted her cheeks, trying to rouse her only to see a look of fear on her face when she opened her eyes.
"You." Her voice was barely a whisper then he watched in horror as she fainted again.