Be Witched by H. P. Mallory

Author:H. P. Mallory [Mallory, H. P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780345531698
Amazon: B0067AMY2O
Publisher: Bantam
Published: 2011-12-12T10:00:00+00:00

It’s quite interesting how twenty minutes can exist as a mere flash when you find yourself busily occupied or it can seem an eternity. I found myself pacing back and forth in my room. I’d already scoured the perimeter, ensuring the surroundings were clean and there wasn’t anything out of place. All my clothes were hung up, my shoes put away, the bed made …

There was a nervousness within me that wouldn’t abate. How long had it been since I’d been with a woman? I couldn’t recall. I’d lived the life of a solitary man, focused entirely on the governance of the Underworld, not bothered with subjects such as romance and intimacy. It was a bit of an epiphany, really—the fact that I hadn’t invested at all into my own personal life. That is, until I met Jolie.

Feeling as if my nerves would be the death of me, I searched for a distraction, something to take my thoughts from my own anxiety. Was there anything Jolie might need? Food or drink? Hmm, perhaps a bottle of water? Deciding that was a good enough reason for me to quit my room, I started downstairs.

I didn’t encounter anyone on my trip to the kitchen, which was just as well. The last thing I wanted was an interruption—a question about battle tactics or an invitation to play the part of referee. No, tonight was about Jolie and me. It was our night—something that had been in the making for entirely too long.

I opened the refrigerator, grabbed two bottles of water, and started for the stairs again. My heart hammered within my chest and I suddenly thought how ridiculous it was that I was nervous. Me, a grown man! A man who was in charge of hundreds of soldiers, a man who never backed away from challenge, and, instead, thrived on it. What would my men think of the fact that I was anxious about spending the evening with Jolie? I couldn’t help but smile to myself as I considered it. I’d been with countless women over the one hundred sixty plus years of my existence and yet I couldn’t remember the last time I’d actually felt this way, the last time I’d actually cared about someone …

Reaching the top of the stairs, I noticed the door to my bedroom was already slightly ajar. Jolie had arrived while I was in the kitchen, on my silly mission to keep myself occupied. I approached the door stealthily, not wanting to alert her to the fact that I’d arrived. Instead, I wanted to merely observe her like an artist viewing his subject. I never tired of Jolie’s easy beauty or the way she talked to herself when she didn’t think anyone was around.

I opened the door without making a sound and allowed myself to enter, immediately taking note of her on my bed. She was wearing blue-and-white striped pajama shorts that happened to be incredibly short and showed off her lovely legs as, I’m certain, they were meant to.

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