Warlock's Charm Read Free

that you’ve continually avoided
since Anya fled Vanguard Prime. Why don’t you just let her go? There are many
others out there who would give anything to have you as their one true love.”
    Damien grunted. “You truly are in the mood to walk the thin
line today, aren’t you, Mr. Stopper?”
    Stopper’s eyes widened to dramatic proportions and he
dropped his gaze to the floor to keep from meeting Damien’s scathing glare. If
Stopper hadn’t served him so diligently for almost fifteen years, he probably
would have been inclined to miniaturize the man.
    After which, he’d send him away to a brothel out in the
Forbidden Pleasure Zone on Vanguard V. As it was, he knew that he would never
be able to find anyone else who could do the job so efficiently and discreetly.
Besides, he couldn’t really imagine the office without Mr. Stopper in it. He
was like a permanent fixture.
    “I will have no other woman but my beautiful Anya. When she
sees me again she will realize just how much she needs me. She will realize
just how much she craves my touch and my kiss and she will never run from me
again!”
    “You sound as if you’re going to enslave her or something—if
that’s the case I don’t think she’ll take kindly to that. Just remember her
magical touch rivals yours. In fact, it just might surpass it.”
    “Stopper, would you like me to take away your voice, place
it in a bottle and take that bottle with me while I search the solar systems
for my wife?”
    Stopper looked up at him and met his gaze. “No sir.”
    “Good. In that case, I think you need to leave this room and
give me a few moments of peace before my hunt for my runaway bride begins.”
    Stopper nodded demurely at him and walked backward out of
the room. Obviously, he didn’t want to turn his back to him in case Damien did
decide to hex him after all. He couldn’t blame Stopper for going to that
trouble. It made him feel a bit like royalty or one man who shouldn’t be
crossed. Ever.
    * * * * *
    Stopper halted as the door to Damien’s chambers clicked
shut. He walked over to his desk, checked to make certain that Damien’s office
door was still closed, and sat down. With perfect calm and deliberate action,
he reached for a wrapped box on his desk that had just been delivered via space
post.
    Opening it, he smiled at the one lifelike wax doll sitting
in the preservation field inside. The miniature force field acted as a stasis
chamber, ensuring that the hexed person inside wouldn’t suffocate or be bumped
up too much. Human hexed cargo was always preserved this way.
    “Hello again, Oliver. I do hope you had a bumpy trip.”
Oliver White was the last unfortunate soul that Damien had sent after her. The
witch hunter had been strong, but not strong enough for her.
    Picking up an antique solid-silver compact, he opened it and
looked in the mirror. The mirror saw past the enchantment.
    Her true visage was revealed. Anya smiled as she saw her
reflection staring back at her.
    As Damien came striding out of the office at a determined
clip, she quickly shut the compact and placed it back inside Stopper’s drawer. She
couldn’t wait to ditch the pretense completely. Terry Stopper was vainer then
some women.
    “Goodbye, Mr. Stopper, I’ll see you in about a fortnight,”
Damien muttered as he walked out of the Forsythe offices. It wouldn’t take him
long to vacate Griffin Tower, which was also owned by the Forsythe family.
    “Oh, I should think we’ll see each other again well before
that, darling husband,” Anya whispered, as Damien stepped out of earshot. Stopper’s
semi-masculine voice faded away to be replaced by her own sweetly feminine
voice.
    She reached into another drawer below the one that held her
compact and stared at the twelve-inch doll-sized form of the real Mr. Stopper.
She had to transform him into his current state in order to take up his post as
Damien’s personal assistant.
    She could barely hear his frustrated screams. Reaching