Star-Crossed Mates by Scarlet Hyacinth Read Free Book Online Page B

sight.” The man—because their helper turned out to be male—owned a nightclub called The Witching Hour. Apparently, people with more unusual interests crowded here, both gay and heterosexual, making quite a statement in London’s Goth scene.
    The witch himself, a man named Hewitt, welcomed them warmly.
    He was a tall, drop-dead gorgeous brunet. Klaus tried but failed to guess his age. Hewitt looked in his early thirties, but talented witches could prolong their lifespan for many centuries.
    Hewitt gestured them into the nightclub, closed during the day, and offered them delicious cocktails, on the house. Dietrich seemed well-known and well-liked here.
    “Thanks,” Dietrich said, “but we were wondering if we could proceed with what we spoke of before.”
    “You’re trying to find the young man again.” Hewitt hummed thoughtfully. “I suspected as much. I can’t promise it will work this time.” He turned toward Klaus. “Tell me, do you want to find your elusive Clay? It won’t work otherwise.”
    Klaus nodded. He couldn’t figure out what words to use to convey his need to be by his mates’ sides. An increasingly ominous feeling 46
    Scarlet Hyacinth
    shrouded his heart and mind. Ross and Clay were in danger. He just knew it.
    Why did things have to be so difficult? He’d meant well when he’d left, but Clay and Ross didn’t see it that way. He now relied on Hewitt to help them find the two before it was too late.
    The witch led them to a door with a sign that read “Employees Only.” Beyond, they entered something that looked like a common club storeroom. Klaus noticed boxes leaden with bottles, all holding various types of liquors. Hewitt expertly slipped between the boxes and swept his hand over the wall, murmuring an incantation under his breath. The bricks parted, revealing a secret entrance.
    Hewitt led them through a small, dark tunnel into a huge, cavernous space. The top of the room seemed to go on for miles, although it could have been just a visual effect because of the detailed frescos. The domed ceiling depicted the starry night sky in the north side and a sunny day in the south.
    “Different witches use different types of magic,” Hewitt explained. “Mine is the magic of the aether, stemming from a combination of sunlight and moonlight. It’s what helps me locate lost people and lost objects.”
    Klaus surmised Dietrich’s magic must be different but didn’t bother to ask. He was too focused on getting the proverbial show on the road. “So, what do I have to do?”
    Hewitt chuckled. “In a rush, are we?” He gestured for Klaus to sit on a wooden chair in front of a simple table. “Just sit there. I’ll tell you what’s needed.”
    Klaus obeyed and waited as the witch took a scroll from a huge bookshelf. He rolled it on the table in front of them, revealing that it was, in fact, an old-fashioned map. Its edges were yellowed with age and some of the lines could no longer be made out. Klaus arched a brow, but didn’t comment.

    Star-Crossed Mates
    47
    Hewitt then said another incantation, sweeping his hand over the map as he did so. He sat at the table on a chair opposite Klaus’s.
    “Ready?” he asked Klaus.
    Klaus nodded. Hewitt smiled, his eyes warm and comforting. He retrieved a small pendant from his pocket, letting it slide over the map. The witch reached out for Klaus’s hand and held it tightly, bringing it over the pendant.
    “Where did you last see the young man?” Hewitt asked.
    “Kiltimagh, in Ireland.”
    Hewitt nodded and shifted the position of the pendant over Ireland. “Now think about the man you're looking for,” Hewitt whispered. “Think hard.”
    Klaus imagined his two mates, Clay with his warm smile and generous soul, Ross with his hidden passion and righteous anger. He clung to the pain he’d experienced through them—a pain he himself had caused.
    In the background, Hewitt encouraged him. “That’s it. Go deeper.
    Further.”
    The pendant