Free Burkheart Witch Saga Book 3 by Christine Sutton Page B

I can tell you that it is not good. We must fortify to fight against anything that may approach. Are you strong enough, Princess?"
    "Yes. I can do whatever we need to do."
    Joy rose to her feet. "Let's get to the kitchen and start mixing up some potions, then."
    Grace stood up next to her and felt a wave of dizziness that threatened to send her reeling. As she felt herself stumbling, she reached her hand out to stabilize herself on anything nearby. Out of nowhere, a small table materialized just in time for her to grab hold of the edge. The witches watched in wonder as the table disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
    "Whoa, how did you do that?" Violet asked with wide eyes.
    "I'm not sure. It just happened."
    "Can you control it?"
    "Yes… mostly."
    "Well, that should come in handy later," Violet said, following the others to the kitchen.
    The women, along with Jorek, set about mixing potions in the kitchen. It looked like a scene from anyone's Thanksgiving celebration. All of them were tootling about, grabbing pots, pans and wooden spoons. The only difference was, instead of measuring sage and cinnamon, the witches were using ingredients like toadstool and mandrake. Jorek took a jar of wolfsbane and added a pinch to his bubbling pot.
    Violet stood back with her trusty notebook in hand.
    "All right, we have a protection potion, a warding amulet, and a stunning liquid. Can you think of anything else we may need?" she asked the rest of the group.
    "I think that if we need anything more than these, along with our own magic, we have bigger problems to deal with," Joy replied.
    "Right," Vi agreed. "We have the stakes sharpened and the silver knives ready."
    She made a check mark in her notebook after every item she read off.
    "I think we are ready, then," Daisy said, sounding a little shaky in her resolve.
    "As we will ever be," Grace replied, scared to death.

13
    R oland swirled the eighteen-year-old single malt scotch in the crystal glass and watched the amber liquid splash over the clear cubes of ice. He swallowed the remainder in one large gulp, but when he brought the glass down to the desk, it was filled again. One more advantage to being a djinn , he thought to himself, never ending scotch .
    "Also, ice cubes that do not melt," he chuckled aloud and took another swig from the glass.
    He rose from his velvet chair and walked to the mahogany bar. He had no need to do so, but going through the motions felt good to him. It gave him some feeling of normalcy. The array of crystal decanters filled with various colors of liquor reflected the light in the form of small prisms of color. It really was a beautiful sight. He ran his fingers over the cold stone and sighed to himself. There was so much beauty in this world that could not be tarnished by any form of ugliness.
    "What do you want?" he asked the woman that now stood behind him.
    He did not need to turn around to know who it was. He could feel her spirit in his soul. It was black and rancid like rotting meat that churned in his belly.
    "I want you to obey," she whispered. "I am your mistress."
    "You are that." His defeated tone sounded foreign to his own ears. He took a large swig of his scotch and reached for the decanter to pour himself a full glass.
    "Right now, the witch is vulnerable. I could take her over and have the baby to myself. This could be finished tonight."
    "You know that is beyond my power. Souls must be given freely or the vessel must be empty. You know this, so why do insist on wishing for things you cannot have? If it were that easy, there would be no need for this ridiculous charade."
    "Oh, my sweet Am-Sher-Al, you forget the pain," the woman said as her smoky visage took corporeal form. She placed a hand on the djinn's shoulder, slowly running her fingers down his bare back. As the ring she wore touched his flesh, he flinched away. An imprint of the ring's stone burned into his shoulder blade as she held it in place. "You forget how much pain you