The warlocks bride, p.2
The Warlock's Bride, page 2
The face of a certain brown-eyed witch flashed in his mind. Everything he wanted was waiting for him in Zamerra.
“Well, I do hope to call on you before you leave, Signore. Delle Rose won’t be the same without you,” Signora Donatella’s sugary voice interrupted his thoughts.
She brushed a hand suggestively across his chest, holding his gaze.
“There are plenty of other warlocks and witches in the city. I’m sure they’ll be able to supply all your needs,” Dante replied.
Carnal or otherwise.
She huffed. “The ones who make house calls aren’t nearly as… talented as you.”
“There are the shops then,” Dante said, nodding in the direction of one of the potions shop he’d been heading for.
The woman’s lip curled. “As if I’d be caught stepping foot into one of those places.”
Normally, Dante would hold his tongue. Play the part of the charming warlock everyone knew him to be. But this was his last day in the city. The last time he had to put up with their snide remarks about magic and those who used it.
“How unfortunate,” he said, leaning in toward her, “that last skin potion I made for you won’t last for long. In fact, it looks as if it’s already starting to wear off. I’d say you have about a week. At most. Then you’ll have to find another way to hide your crowsfeet, Signora.”
She gasped, a hand jumping to her face. Dante turned away from her and started walking, smiling at the angry sputter that echoed behind him.
An invisible bell jingled as he entered Signora Gavella’s potion shop. The elderly witch looked up from the counter and gave him a wide smile.
“Ahh. There’s my favorite warlock,” she crooned.
Dante gave her a mock look of worry. “Careful! The others might hear you.”
Ignoring him, the wizened woman hobbled toward him and gave him a tight hug that belied her frail appearance. Her frizzy gray hair tickled him as she nestled her face into his side, her head barely reaching his chest.
“I’m going to miss you so, amore. Promise you’ll write as soon as your settled?”
She pulled away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.
A lump grew in Dante’s throat. He cleared it and squeezed her lightly on the shoulder. “Promise. Now, no more tears, Signora. If you cry, I cry and I’m an ugly crier.”
The witch scoffed. “Nonsense. You couldn’t make yourself ugly even if you wanted to. I’m sure all your admirers would agree with me. I hope you’ve let them all down gently. The poor dears.”
“All my admirers? Signora, you make me sound like such a rake. It hasn’t been that many.”
She gave him a flat look.
“Well, I’m a changed man now. No more parties and scandals. And you’re the only one I’ll miss.” Dante flashed her a smile. Though his tone was teasing, he meant every word.
The witch snorted and motioned him over to the counter.
Dante followed, glancing around the quiet little shop. All her potions were lovingly displayed on the shelves behind enchanted glass. The distinct smell of roses and candlewax filled the room. He would miss coming there. Signora Gavella had become somewhat of a mentor to Dante. More a mother to him than his own mother had been.
“This is for you. A going away gift, if you will,” the witch said, pulling out a small vial of black liquid.
Dante accepted her gift and held it up to his eyes. “What is it?”
Her grin widened. “A love potion.”
Dante chuckled and started to hand it back to her. “Thank you, Signora, but I don’t need it. I’ve never had trouble in that… particular area.”
She pushed the vial back toward him. “Not for stamina, you fool. Love is more than a tussle in the sheets. Or carriage,” she added with a faraway look.
A startled cough escaped Dante, making the witch frown.
“Listen to me, amore. There’s more to life than magic.”
Dante grunted, holding back the argument on his tongue.
The witch gave him a sad smile. “You may fool the others, but you can’t fool me. You’re not as happy with being alone as you pretend. Take it. Drink it. It will reveal your true match.”
“Thank you,” Dante said, pushing the vial deep into his pocket.
A love potion. What did that even mean? Magic couldn’t make someone fall in love. Not permanently, anyway. Though Dante was no expert in the matter.
Pushing away the thoughts, he smiled at the witch. “Are the other potions ready?”
She nodded. “All set. If you need more, write me and I’ll send them. Anything you need and don’t be a stranger. I hope this won’t be the last I see of you.”
“Of course not, Signora. Can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Oh, I’ve also got your honey cakes ready. Let me wrap them up for you,” Signora Gavella said, turning away.
Dante grinned at her words. “And that’s why you’re the only woman I’ll miss.”
Dante stood in the middle of his villa and sighed. Memories, both good and bad, flooded his mind as his gaze swept the room. Blood red carpet, forest green walls, and black and gold accents everywhere. It was moody, dark, extravagant, and totally at odds with his usual sunny disposition.
He loved it.
A wave of sadness struck him as he realized he could no longer call the place home. The new owners, a non-magical family, would no doubt make it their own. Another respectable villa that looked identical to all the others on the street.
How boring.
Despite his sorrow at leaving, Dante was also excited. The change of address had been a long time coming. With his best friend, Massimo, now a count and living in marital bliss, there wasn’t much keeping him in Borgo Delle Rose.
He’d spent nearly fifteen years there, but it had never truly felt like home. Signora Gavella’s words echoed in his mind. You’re not as happy with being alone as you pretend.
Maybe she was right. The parties he used to love had grown dull. Even flirting and romance had lost their excitement. What had changed?
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Dante walked over to the black iron chest and unlocked it with a quick spell. He pulled out the small vial the witch had given him and looked at it once more.
Love potion.
Perhaps he could sell it to one of the townsfolk in Zamerra. He certainly wasn’t going to waste it on himself. Placing it carefully beside all his other potions, salves, and ingredients, he turned to look at the small wooden box of potions he’d bought from Signora Gavella. A mixture of healing and beauty tonics. Perfect to sell in his apothecary.
With Massimo’s fae blood and his new bride, Alessia, being a witch, Dante hoped magic would be more accepted in the mountains. Even so, he didn’t want to use the term potion shop just in case.
Give the townsfolk a chance to warm up to him. Though, if he was being honest, he didn’t much care about their opinion of him. There was only one woman in particular that he hoped to impress.
Liliana Silveri. Alessia’s sister.
Her face flashed before him. Sharp, brown eyes framed with long dark lashes, glossy black curls, and full lips. She was stunning. Even when she was glaring at him.
The few interactions they’d had, he’d attempted to charm her, but everything that usually worked on other women didn’t work on her.
She was smart and her quick tongue was a match for his own. Despite his best efforts to get to know her, she’d made it clear she was not interested in him. There had to be a reason she’d built such a high wall around herself, and Dante was determined to find out what it was.
Golden streaks of waning sunlight streamed in from his large windows. Soon it would be nightfall and Ometta, his owl familiar, would be ready to hunt. The move to the mountains would be good for her too. There would be much more forest and wilderness for her to explore.
The bells of a wagon cart sounded from outside, interrupting his thoughts. Dante walked to his front door and opened it to see a mail carrier heading toward his villa. He gave the man a friendly wave as he came to a stop.
“Good evening, Signor Lazzaro. I have a letter for you,” the young man said, reaching into his satchel.
“Thank you,” Dante replied as he took the outstretched letter.
He watched as the mail carrier took off, his wagon cart nearly empty of packages. Glancing down at the letter in his hand, Dante’s eyebrows arched in surprise.
It was from Zamerra, from his friend Massimo. He opened it eagerly and skimmed over the greetings and updates.
A masquerade.
Massimo and his bride were hosting their very first masquerade. The first one in Zamerra. It had to be her idea. Dante couldn’t imagine Massimo would want to put on such a thing. Though he couldn’t imagine Alessia as the fancy masquerade type either.
Very curious.
Tucking the letter into his pocket, he glanced around the quiet, cobblestoned street. Dark iron lampposts lined the road. The brick and stone villas were clustered together, window planters filled with dying flowers and brown leaves.
Cold, autumn air swirled around Dante as he took it all in. The closer they were to Hallow’s Eve, the stronger the pull of magic was. Dante hoped to be completely settled with his shop all set up before then. That would give him time to work on some new potions and spells to have ready in time.
He didn’t know what to expect in Zamerra, but if people were as superstitious there as they were in the city, he wanted to have enough talismans to go around. Though he doubted there were many spirits looking to cross over in the little mountain town. They were usually drawn to bigger crowds.
Dismissing the thought, Dante turned to go back inside. He patted the letter in his pocket with growing excitement. A masquerade could be fun. I’ll need a new suit.
As soon as he stepped inside, Ometta flew at him, her shiny black wings flapping gracefully. Her bright yellow eyes met his. She was ready to hunt.
Dante opened the door wider to let the giant owl out. She glided out the front door without a glance back. Dante watched her disappear before closing the door. He’d leave his bedroom window open for when she was ready to return.
Growing weary, Dante sank into his armchair and lit the candle on the side table. He turned over the letter in his hand. As if it would reveal more details the longer he stared.
Would Liliana be there? The memory of their last encounter flashed before him. He’d come on too strong and she’d given him a verbal lashing that made his ears burn… among other things.
A snort escaped him, sounding loud in the quiet. Dante hated the silence. It was when he found himself alone in the quiet that the voices of the past echoed loudest. Namely, his father’s.
Why do you waste your life with frivolous magic? You could have been so much more. You are a disappointment.
No matter what he did with his magic, it would never be good enough. He would never be good enough. His father was long gone now, but his words still lingered.
Dante stood up and turned on his phonograph. Soft music filled his villa, silencing the voices and memories.
Chapter 3
An Unpleasant Surprise
Liliana
Liliana sat at her sister’s long kitchen table and sipped her caffé by the cozy fire. Strings of garlic hung from the wooden rafters, their sharp scent clashing with the freshly brewed caffé and sugary treats Pamina had brought.
They were gathered together to discuss the upcoming masquerade. The first official masquerade ever held in their little mountain town and, hopefully, the last. Franny, Alessia’s little house elf, sat atop the wooden table beside them, her pointed red hat placed next to her.
While the others mulled over tablecloths, décor, and menu items, Liliana sat and listened. Alessia hadn’t asked for her opinion yet, which was probably for the best. Liliana doubted they wanted to hear what she thought.
A masquerade. It was stupid. A waste of time. Their mother no doubt had a hand in convincing Alessia and Massimo into this, but why?
Liliana had a dark suspicion it had to do with matchmaking more than easing the townsfolk’s fear of Hallow’s Eve. After her scheming to push Alessia and Massimo together, her focus had turned to Liliana.
Mama thought she was so subtle, but Liliana was no fool.
Their mother was seer and the vision she had shared of Liliana’s supposedly future child was a sore subject between them. One that Liliana had refused to entertain.
Children. Matchmaking. Marriage.
She wanted no part in it.
The warm liquid filled Liliana, settling her nerves. Pamina’s special brew. Her sister’s magic was with food and drink. Particularly, sweets that brought healing and peace. Unlike Liliana, Pamina didn’t have to worry about accidentally poisoning anyone with her magic.
“You’re quiet,” Alessia finally addressed her.
“Hmm,” Liliana returned.
She met her sister’s gaze and held it, speaking volumes with her silence. As the oldest Silveri sisters, she and Alessia had a special bond. They were best friends. Or had been until Alessia had gone and married the fae count. At least they had built a villa right up the road. Liliana couldn’t stand the thought of living far from any of her sisters.
Alessia frowned. “What is it? I know dances and parties aren’t usually something you enjoy, but don’t you think the townsfolk deserve a celebration? Something to look forward to before harvest time? Everyone has been working so hard.”
“Does it even matter what I think?”
“Of course, it does.” Alessia’s brown eyes narrowed. Like Liliana, she had inherited their mother’s black curls, dark eyes and bronze skin, but that was where the similarities ended.
Alessia and Pamina were the nicer sisters. Liliana was stony. So, she was told.
Headstrong. Standoffish. Sharp.
“Don’t be such a sour puss,” Serafina piped in with a mouthful of cannoli.
Liliana ignored her, staring down at her berry-stained fingers curled around her steaming mug. A wave of heat came from the fire blazing in the stone hearth behind her.
“Well, I think a masquerade is a lovely idea!” Pamina broke the tension with a sigh and clap of her hands.
Liliana snorted. “Well, of course you do. You love cooking and baking.”
“You wouldn’t have to do much, Liliana. I’m sure we could manage without you,” Alessia said softly.
Liliana’s chest tightened. She knew her sister meant well, but she couldn’t help but feel the sting of her words. We can manage without you.
“Oh, please. She’s just cranky because she knows a certain gorgeous warlock will be invited,” Serafina said with a smug smirk.
Liliana’s hand tightened around her mug. She threw her sister a glare which only made Serafina’s smile widened.
“And why would I care about that?” Liliana snapped at her.
“Don’t deny it. You like him. I don’t know why you pretend otherwise. I saw how you ogled him at Alessia’s wedding. You were practically drooling,” Serafina said.
“Fina!” Alessia admonished their younger sister.
Liliana was too angry to respond. How dare Serafina accuse of her such a thing. Drooling over a man. Never.
She had made that mistake of thinking she was in love before. Never again.
Thankfully the mug in her hand was ceramic and not so easily crushed in her firm grip.
“She shouldn’t say such things, Mama,” Alessia said to their mother.
Serafina huffed, her mouth opening to no doubt offer more choice words. She was cut off by Mama’s outstretched hand.
Mama turned to Alessia. “Serafina is entitled to speak freely among us. Same as any of you. We are family.”
Alessia shook her head but didn’t argue. There was no arguing with Mama who, despite her protests on the matter, always seemed to indulge her youngest daughters.
Liliana turned to Serafina. “And what about Angelo?”
Serafina gave her a murderous glare. “What about him?”
“You watched him all night at the wedding.”
“I did not!”
“And when he was dancing with Valentina, your whole face reddened. It looked like you were going to explode. You—”
“Liliana,” Alessia cut her off with a frown.
Knowing poking their little sister further would only anger her more, Liliana sat back in her chair and sniffed. “Whatever silly notion you have of Signor Lazzaro and me, let me make my feelings clear. Signor Lazzaro is an arrogant, cocky, pompous, overdressed fool with mediocre magic skill. He thinks himself so clever. So charming. Just because he has all the strumpets in Zamerra falling over themselves.”
“Liliana!” Pamina and Alessia exclaimed in unison.
Liliana lifted her chin. “I told him as much last time I saw him too.”
Alessia’s eyes widened in horror. “No, you did not. He’s Massimo’s best friend!”
“So? That doesn’t give him the right to treat me like one of his…” she glanced at Fiorella, “admirers.”
Alessia rubbed her forehead and shook her head.
“I think he’s the handsomest man I’ve ever seen,” Fiorella said in a quiet voice, a gleam in her green eyes.
Everyone turned to look at the youngest Silveri sister in surprise. Fiorella blushed under their stares.
She gave Alessia an apologetic look. “Massimo is handsome, too.”
At this, the others laughed. Franny joined in, shaking so bad she spilled caffé from her tiny mug.
Pamina grabbed a cloth from the cupboard and cleaned the little spot before filling the elf’s cup again.
“Now, enough teasing. Let’s discuss the costumes. We should start on them right away,” Mama said, leaning back in her chair.
Serafina and Fiorella squealed with delight.
Liliana fought the urge to roll her eyes. Their mother was eyeing her with interest now. No doubt, trying to read her to see if there was any truth in Serafina’s words. Liliana felt her hackles rise. The image of Dante dancing at Alessia’s wedding flashed in Liliana’s mind. His presence had sent all the townsfolk in a tizzy. They were the ones drooling and pawing him. Giordana worst of all. They didn’t seem to mind his magic. A double standard if there ever was one.
