Halfway Hexed (8 page)

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Authors: Kimberly Frost

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #General

BOOK: Halfway Hexed
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Then I saw myself in a pale gold dress that I’d never worn, my hair upswept. My mouth went dry as I watched myself walk down an aisle, a creamy bouquet of flowers in my clasped hands. Someone waited. Waited for me to come and marry him? Who? My heart pounded and I felt slightly sick. I was afraid of seeing my own future.

I stretched a trembling fingertip to the brooch and stared at the flame. The scene changed and the beautiful dark-haired woman was there. This time she faced me. She flung her hand, as though casting a spell. A rush of fragmented images, running, falling, cobbles. Blood! The flame shot unnaturally high, and I jerked, falling out of the vision trance as I knocked over the candle with my foot. Merc yowled. He smacked out the flame of the fallen candle as I tried to catch my breath.

“It was all mixed up. I couldn’t tell what was happening.”

I rubbed my arms and glanced at the house on the property behind ours where the local judge and his family lived. They’d spied on me before, and their lights were on now. I was pretty sure the lights hadn’t been on before I’d started the spell.

“We need to go,” I said.

With a still-pounding heart, I blew out the other candles and collected everything. Inside, I dropped the candles and matches on the kitchen counter and put the brooch carefully into its box. I wiped the dirt from my feet quickly with a damp paper towel and washed my hands.

“Okay,” I said, grabbing the brooch box and the spellbook. “We’ll go to Bryn’s. We’ll be safe there, and maybe I can sneak a few books from his library that’ll give me more control over looking into the brooch.”

On the drive to Bryn’s, I saw George’s mail van. I slowed down and waved to him out my window.

“Morning,” he said.

“George, I need to stop my mail. I’m not going to stay at Zach Sutton’s house after all. Can you hold my mail and then I’ll pick it up from you?”

“Where will you be staying?”

“I’m not entirely sure yet. I’m in a bit of spot. Would it be okay for me to get it directly from you?”

“I always keep to my schedule.” He glanced at the clock on his dash. “I start my route by five a.m. on Saturdays, so people’s mail is waiting for them when they wake up. Otherwise, they go out and don’t open it until Saturday afternoon or night or��Sunday morning,” he said, pursing his lips as though Congress ought to really have passed a law to prevent mail-opening delays.

“Well, that sure is sweet of you to make sure people get their mail early.”

“But it’s not five yet, so I could give you your mail. Your new mail from England.”

“From London?” I asked excitedly. “I’ll pull over.” I wheeled the car into a driveway and threw it into park.

I met George next to the van. He took out a heavy-bond envelope and handed it to me.

“George, you’re one in a million,” I said, giving him a quick hug.

“Just doing my duty.” He swung the van door closed, checked to be sure it was secure, then went back to the driver’s seat. With a brief hand out the window in a makeshift wave, he drove away.

I got in my car, setting the envelope on the dashboard. “A letter from Aunt Mel, Merc,” I exclaimed as I drove to Bryn’s. “Hopefully she’ll explain who the woman from the brooch vision is. Did you see the way she thrust her hand in the vision? A witch, I’d say.”

At Bryn’s gate, I pressed the security buzzer. After a bit of hesitation, Steve’s familiar voice filled the air.

“It’s Tammy Jo. Let me in?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you at the front door,” he said.

The gate opened, and I drove up the fancy paved stone circle drive and parked. I got my suitcase out, but left the brooch locked inside the trunk. Somehow I didn’t think it would be good to bring it into Bryn’s, where security cameras recorded everything that went on except for in the bedrooms.

“A suitcase?” Steve asked, running a hand over his brush cut.

“Yeah, think he’ll mind?”

“No, but we’d better ask him.”

“Well, I’ll put it here until he wakes up,” I said, rolling it to the corner of the foyer.

“He’s up.”

“Already?”

“He’s on the back lawn.”

“The back . . .” I glanced at Mercutio. “Where’s his dog, Angus?” Bryn’s Rottweiler and Merc got along like—well, like cats and dogs.

“Gone. Lennox came by yesterday and took him.”

“Oh, Bryn’s dad is back. Isn’t that—”
Too bad.
“Nice.”

“Yeah, I can tell you’re thrilled,” he said with a grin. “Look, I’ve got to go back to the monitors. You’ll wait here until he comes in?”

“Sure, I’ve got an important letter to read,” I said, sitting on the settee.

Steve went back down the hall, and I opened the envelope. The letter was on thick stationery with filigree cutouts along the top. Super delicate. Ivory paper with black ink. Also inside the envelope, there were two thick strands of black satin ribbon.

Dear darling,

I’m so sorry we haven’t called! So much time passed without our realizing it. Things are very different in the N.

“The N? The Never? Slang for faeryland, I think,” I said to Merc, who was licking his paws.

We’re both doing well. Marlee found the one she was looking for. Not everyone is happy about that, but he is. Unfortunately, his kind are very possessive, and if he and Marlee want to be together, they have to prove their devotion. The one who lords over everyone—we’ll call her the Queen Bee—insists that Marlee stay there.

I want her to come home, but she’s determined to stay with him—at least for now.

Meanwhile, I did manage to get out of there. Thankfully! I have a few things to do in the UK before I can come home. I’ve sent some packages. Look for them and keep them safe.

Edie tells me that you’ve been having some adventures. She says you’ve entered into a new phase in your life and that you’re doing brilliantly, especially considering that there’s no one from the family to help you. (Please don’t turn to anyone that you shouldn’t for advice. You know better!) I promise I’ll be home as soon as I can. Or you could come here. I would love for you to! I miss you. If not, if you can spare Edie, would you send me the locket? I really need her to be at her strongest and having the locket close would be best. Bind the locket with the special satin ribbons to cushion its journey. I’ve said a prayer for it to get here safely. If you want to say a little prayer as well, the kind that binds, that would be good, too.

Send it to me at the Savoy hotel in London.

That’s all for now. We love you! Stay out of trouble!

 

Aunt Mel

I reread the letter, so happy to have proof that she was okay. She hadn’t mentioned the brooch, but there was the “keep them safe” line about the stuff she was sending. Maybe I was just supposed to hold on to the brooch for Aunt Mel, and she’d take care of it when she got back to America. But what if she didn’t get back in time? I really needed more information about what she wanted me to do.

At least she’d sent the satin ribbons that she’d cast a spell on. Her binding to keep Edie in the locket would probably work, even if my spell was useless. I smiled at her use of the word
prayer
instead of
spell
. Smart and careful. Who knew if the mail would fall into the wrong hands. DeeDAW hands. Boy was Aunt Mel going to be mad when she heard about them.

“Well, that’s it for now,” I said to Merc, putting the letter and ribbons in the envelope and slipping it into the pocket of my suitcase. “Momma’s shacked up with a faery. Aunt Mel’s trying to rebuild her magic. Edie’s going airmail to England. And we’re staying here to face the Conclave.” I blew a strand of hair out of my eyes. “You think I should have let her or Edie know about the Conclave or Scarface or DeeDAW?”

Merc purred.

“But if most of her power was depleted from visiting Faeryland, she wouldn’t be able to help much, right? So she’d rush home before she was ready, only to end up in danger along with me. I think it would be better to let her come home when she’s ready, when she’s built up her power again. I think Bryn and I can handle things here. Look at all that we’ve done over the past couple weeks. Although, he did lose a lot of his power during that Death spell a few days ago.” I sighed. “Maybe I should ask him what he thinks about telling Aunt Mel.”

I strode to the kitchen and out the back door. It was near dawn, and most of the outdoor floodlights had gone off. I walked diagonally toward the water, figuring I’d bump into Bryn somewhere along the way.

A pulse of white light blinded me. I tossed an arm over my eyes and Merc yowled.

“What the heck was that?”

Chapter 9

I lowered my arm carefully. In the distance, I could see tiny needles of bright light coming from the sky. I followed the lines of illumination down with my eyes and hurried toward them.

Bryn was standing shirtless on the lawn with his arms outstretched to the sides, his head tipped back so his face was turned up to the sky. The beams of light pierced his forearms. As I drew closer, I could hear that he was murmuring in a foreign language.

I paused, not wanting to disturb whatever spell he was casting. I heard Merc’s breathing get faster, then he made a high-pitched sound and darted away.

What?
I looked over my shoulder, trying to see where he’d gone, then I felt sharp pain in my shoulders. I whipped my head back and saw that two beams of light had bent from Bryn’s arms and were striking me. I dropped to my knees, but the slicing beams followed.

“Ow!” I yelled. “What are you doing?”

He went on with his incantation. I leapt to my feet and raced toward him, the searing pain becoming unbearable.

He stopped speaking and the lights disappeared, but not soon enough for me to stop. Momentum made me crash into him. We landed hard. Him on his back. Me sprawled half on top of him, half on the dewy grass.

I checked my shoulders, surprised that blood wasn’t coursing down them from gaping wounds. On my shirt, there were a couple dots of blood, about a centimeter in diameter, but nothing more. I jerked the fabric down to expose my left shoulder. It was too dark to see, but it looked like there was only a tiny puncture.

“Good morning, Tamara,” Bryn said mildly.

I slugged his left ribs. “What was that?” His power crawled over my skin like scorpion stings. It wasn’t the way his magic usually felt. I rubbed my arms, trying to make the sensation go away.

Bryn turned his head to look at me, and his eyes were wrong, too. They were usually bright blue-violet, as if light were being refracted off them like the facets of a jewel. But now his eyes were blue-gray, like storm clouds, and opalescent. Still beautiful, but unfamiliar and kind of disturbing.

“What have you done?” I whispered, unable to keep the disapproval out of my voice. I sat up and scooted back. The stings dampened, and I continued rubbing my arms. He didn’t answer.

I glanced at the horizon as the sun rose. The golden orange light framed him as he stood, but didn’t gild him. It was as though the sunlight folded around him, leaving several inches of darkness as a barrier.

“Bryn?”

“You weren’t willing to be part of the normal power spells I could’ve cast.” He shrugged and then turned toward the house.

“What do you mean?” I said, jumping up. I followed him, leaving several feet between us.

“This was not the optimal time to draw power from the heavens, but it had to be done.”

“You used black magic?”

He didn’t answer.

“You shouldn’t have done that!”

He turned his head slowly and cocked an eyebrow. “I appreciate you sharing your vast wisdom and experience with me.”

I could feel that he wasn’t himself, but his sarcasm still made me flinch. “I may not have a lot of experience, but I can certainly feel how wrong this is. Magic that pricks and stings? Bad idea!”

“There wasn’t a better choice. If I hadn’t done it, when they arrived I’d be like an unarmed soldier behind enemy lines.”

“I wish you’d have explained more.”

“I wish you trusted me.” He strode to the kitchen’s back door and went inside.

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