Raven and the Rose (6 page)

making love to her out in the woods, in their bed, hell anywhere. Since his return, he constantly longed for her touch and her closeness. “Okay, I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

She put her arms around him. “Are you okay?”

Returning the affection, he squeezed her tightly and rubbed her back. “I’m fine, sweet Rose.

I’ll be up in a few. But, don’t wait up for me.” He bent down to place a kiss upon her lips that he hoped would send her into overdrive. As usual, she had her mind on witch affairs.

“I love you, Storm,” she whispered. When he released her, she turned and walked up the

large stairwell.

“I love you too,” he called after her. Turning, he headed toward the kitchen for a quick meal.

With the exception of Walter and Corey’s voices coming in from the parlor, the house seemed

quiet. Storm entered the kitchen. There, he found Rose’s Uncle Jesse standing next to the fridge, holding a heavy crystal glass. Clutching the glass in his left hand, he shoved his right hand in his black slacks and stared out of the large picture window into the night…The man seemed to be

preoccupied.

Jesse glanced over at Storm and nodded. “Care for a Scotch?” He then took another swig

from the glass.

“No, I’m good. I need to keep my wits about me.”

“Another sleepless night, I suppose?” Jesse’s eyes glinted with curiosity. “Is she drifting

away from you again?”

“Always.” Storm hadn’t really wanted to discuss his feelings, but perhaps he needed to. For

years, he and Jesse had always confided in each other regarding things other than McQueen and

Raven’s Falls’ business.

Jesse sighed and walked over to the large breakfast bar adjacent to the refrigerator. Pulling

out a stool, he sat down, still clutching the glass in his hand. “You know you can never win at these things, Storm,” he lamented, pulling out a stool for Storm. “McQueen witches, especially

the females, often place duty high above anything or
anyone
else. That’s why many of them manage to get themselves killed like Seneca.”

Storm closed his eyes, remembering the pain Rose endured. “Rose thought it was her fault.

You know how stubborn Seneca was. Just like Rose. No different from other McQueen women.”

Jesse held his glass up and nodded. “I’ll drink to that. And she died a warrior.”

“And she’s resting well in the Higher Realm.”

“Good. That’s very good.” Jesse frowned and stroked his chin. “Storm—naw, that’s okay.

I’d better not ask you such a question.”

“What’s bothering you, man?”

“You ever wonder if you and Rose are truly meant to be together? Or do you think it’s just

McQueen business. Something carved in stone like Micah and Clara’s relationship. You know,

you wear your heart on your sleeve, son.”

Doubt from Storm’s innermost feelings swirled through him like a raging plague. He’d had

his fair share of doubts in their relationship.

Jesse laid a heavy hand on his shoulder and smiled. “It’s all right, you can tell me anything.

My niece doesn’t have to know. It does a man good to unload the heavy burden he carries on his

shoulders.”

“As ashamed as I am to admit it. Yes, I’ve questioned whether we’re meant to be together.

I’ve always been afraid of placing her in a predicament I can’t get her out of. She’s so damned overprotective of me.”

“You both are two stubborn souls. One afraid of losing the other. A blind man could see that

from a mile away.” Jesse observed.

Storm leaned against the granite top of the breakfast bar and frowned. Something about the

man seemed amiss. “Are you feeling all right, Jesse?”

“I’m fine? Why do you ask, man?”

“Your choice of drink is usually wine. Since when did you turn to Scotch?” Storm asked.

Jesse somehow seemed different.

Jesse laughed heartily. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn to change things up a

little. Don’t worry Storm, I’m not turning into an alcoholic. Although, the duty of being a

McQueen witch is sure to drive one to drink sooner or later.”

They both nodded and Storm quickly dismissed the odd feeling he kept sensing. Perhaps it

was nothing.

“So, tell me. What are Rose’s intentions?”

Storm groaned. “You mean, with the exception of Corey, she hasn’t filled anyone else in?”

Jesse shook his head.

“Well, maybe she was waiting for the next council meeting. She’s got her hands full.”

“And she’s been making a lot of mistakes,” Jesse confessed. “I’m beginning to wonder if she

has what it takes to fulfill her duties while protecting this town against certain threats.”

“Why would you say a thing like that, Jesse?”

“Although my niece, she isn’t without fault.”

“None of us are without fault. We may possess the ability to live longer than regular mortals,

but we’re certainly not gods,” Storm stated firmly.

“Ah, but you were once mortal. After fighting and dying in battles, you were rewarded with

becoming a demigod,” Jesse reminded him with a smile.

Storm turned to face the large man, something wasn’t quite right. He peered deep into his

eyes, but Jesse looked away quickly. “What’s the matter with you, Jesse?” The man always stood

his ground when making eye contact.

Jesse threw back the remainder of the scotch before standing. “I’m just not feeling like

myself, son.” He forced a quick smile. “All this, the loss of a loved one, has my head reeling, you know?”

“Perhaps you should go to bed for the night?” In all his years of knowing Rose’s uncle, this

was the first time he’d ever gotten beneath Storm’s skin.

“Yeah, um—hmm. Well, good night Storm.” Swiftly, Jesse strode across the large kitchen

toward the exit.

“Definitely a full moon.” Storm shook his head, but something captured his attention which

he couldn’t dismiss so easily. A dark haze surrounded Jesse and Storm followed silently. Many

questions gathered in his psyche as he walked carefully from the kitchen through the corridor,

careful not to alert Jesse he was on to him. Rose’s uncle was never one to speak ill of another person…let alone Rose. A sickly feeling slithered over his body and he was convinced something

awful had breached the McQueen Manor.

Jesse walked to the parlor, slowing his gait to listen to Walter and Corey’s discussion

regarding McQueen family history.

“I’m telling you,” Walter went on to say, “It isn’t wise to invoke the assistance of the

McQueens who were tainted by power.”

Storm stood around the corner in the hall next to a family statue, around the corner from

where Jesse was spying. “Why not?” He heard Corey inquire. Although mayor of Raven’s Falls,

Corey, like Dehlia, Jasmine, and Rose were younger than the rest of the McQueen witches.

Walter had hundreds of years on them. And Viola, even more, ranking them both as Elders.

“Because, son. It will open something far much worse than what we’re prepared to handle.

Especially with the Blood Moon being so close. It will weaken Rose, making her more vulnerable

than she is.”

“Oh,” Corey simply said. “Why doesn’t anyone inform us of these things?”

“So, no one fucks up and invokes power we may not be able to control out of desperation.

It’s six in the morning, we’ll brainstorm during the witch’s council tonight. I’m tired and need to catch up on at least an hour’s worth of sleep.”

Storm confronted Jesse. “Who and what the hell are you?” He stood in front of him.

Looking a little disoriented, Jesse shook his head. “What the hell? Storm, have you lost your

mind?”

“I’ll ask you one last time, who are you?”

“Hey, what the hell is going on out here,” Walter, strode out of the parlor, looking at them

both, his brown eyes blazing with concern. “Storm?” Walter lifted a brow in question.

Jesse quickly nodded, snatching away from Storm’s grip. “Storm’s treating me like an

intruder.”

“This isn’t Jesse,” Storm told them.

“Perhaps, one too many trips to the spirit realm?” Corey’s eyes widened.

“But—you don’t under—”

“Storm!” Jesse countered. “If you don’t get the hell away from me—”

“What’s all the ruckus down here?” Viola rushed toward them.

“Storm’s not acting like himself he’s—weird,” Corey admitted.

“Viola, you’ve got to listen to me. That’s not Jesse.”

“Did you bump your head, man?” Viola laughed. “Of course it is.” She glanced at Jesse.

“What’s going on?”

“Jesse, you and I were talking in the kitchen, not too long ago. You were drinking Scotch

and you even offered me some. You don’t drink Scotch, you never have, only wine.”

Viola’s eyes widened. “Jesse?”

“Storm, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t been in the kitchen at all. As a

matter of fact—I…”

Everyone’s eyes were glued to Jesse.

Frowning, Jesse scratched his baldhead before rubbing his bristled jaw. Perspiration beaded

his mahogany skin as he glared at everyone. “Actually, I don’t even remember how I got down

here. Last I remember, I fell asleep in my chambers. And I don’t sleepwalk, you all know that.”

“We’ve been breached,” Storm grumbled. “I knew it! Everyone needs to be alerted. Rose.”

Quickly everyone scurried, Storm projected his spirit to the bedchambers. “Rose.” He

appeared at the foot of their bed and walked over to her, violently shaking her. What if the demon inhabited her now? “Rose, wake up.”

She sprung straight up, disoriented, but narrowing her eyes at him. “What?”

“There’s an intruder in the house.”

She leapt out of bed and slipped on her robe. “Where?”

“The entity was in your uncle Jesse, hurry. The others are gathering everyone in the parlor.”

* * *

Storm glanced around at all the McQueen witches, including Shawn and Wes. He half

expected to find the black inky aura surrounding someone in the room, but couldn’t. He cursed

beneath his breath. “I let it get away,” he told them, his heart filling with sorrow as he sat on the arm of the white antique style sofa next to Rose.

“It’s not your fault.” Rose reached for his hand.

“This is ridiculous,” Jasmine stated heatedly. “A house full of witches, and a raven shifter

and we’ve let this—this thing invade our sanctuary?”

“Has anyone other than Storm seen anything out of the ordinary?” Dehlia asked.

“Perhaps Storm’s losing his touch,” Wes spoke candidly.

“Father!” Rose snapped.

“Sweetheart, do you really think he has the ability to protect you…And the rest of the

family?”

Storm’s eyes lowered, and the hurt he heard in Rose’s voice pierced his heart when she

asked, “Why are you acting this way toward him?”

“Wes, I think you’ve said enough,” Shawn chastised. “Storm, pay him no attention.”

Storm watched as everyone shook their heads. He started to say something when the sound

of glass shattering in the large room down the corridor caught their attention.

Rose jumped to her feet, as did the other witches.

He grabbed her forearm. “Stay next to me.”

She pulled away from him. “Storm, I’m able to take care of myself.” She cast him a cold

glance then caught up to the others.

Temper slightly escalating, he shook his head and followed suit.

When they reached the living room, a large, expensive vase had been overturned, along with

some furniture and other things.

Haunting laughter echoed down the corridors and Storm looked around. “That’s it, I’m tired

of fooling around,” he vowed and shifted into raven form, flying in the direction in which he

heard the sound.

“Storm, wait!” Rose called after him.

Flapping his wings, he flew through several rooms, but the high-pitched squeals ran his

blood cold and he flew back in the direction he’d came. Screams and howls echoed from all

around. He’d gotten no further than around the corner when the smell of burnt flesh assaulted his senses. “No.” He shivered and flapped his wings.

Instantly he shifted, and couldn’t believe his eyes as several of the McQueen witches rolled

around on the floor, writhing in pain. Boils appeared on Jesse, Jasmine, Walter, and Shawn’s

skin, swelling until they burst, releasing pungent smelling pus. His heart dropped to his stomach as he searched for her. “Rose?” He looked around, barely able to catch his breath. Immediately, he brought forth rain, to ease them of the pain.

Almost immediately, the boils disappeared, living not a mark on their skin.

Storm chanted, swiftly dismissing the rain. “Where’s Rose and the others?” he asked,

helping them up.

“It took her that way.” Shawn pulled him to the other entrance of the room, leading out down

the stairs to the lower level of the manor.

“The demon,” Storm murmured. “You stay here.”

“That’s my daughter.” Shawn rushed past him and they all followed.

The winding narrow stairs led into a concrete filled basement. Over on the far side, Rose

knelt with her eyes glowing a darkish yellow.

First instinct was to run to her. Storm tightened his fist and let out a curse as Rose howled in agony. She reached out to him, as her smooth skin appeared to crack, releasing mists of smoke all over her flesh. When she howled again, and her eyes rolled in the back of her head.

Storm thought his heart would break.

He lunged forward but Jesse grabbed him. “No.”

“It’s hurting her, Jesse!”

“Storm!” Rose called to him, holding out her hand. “Please. It hurts!” She placed both hands

on the sides of her head and screamed loudly. “Storm— stay away,” Rose then spoke again,

appearing to shake. “Don’t you hurt him,” she seethed as though talking to herself.