Secret Of The Rose (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 2) (20 page)

I slowed down and looked with a new awareness at the architecture of the manor. I walked through the family room, and realized there were floral carvings on the mantle, too. Come to think of it, there were art nouveau roses in the stain glass windows in the attic... I went out through the potting room, and as my eyes scanned the huge apothecary cabinet that took up one wall, I was unsurprised to note more five petal roses worked into the décor.
There were
roses
all over the house.

Was the
Sub Rosa
clue my grandmother had given me pointing to the house itself? Holy crap! It would take a couple of weeks to discretely work my way from room from room. But even though it would be a huge undertaking, at least I had a direction in my search for the rest of the grimoire pages.

***    

A short time later, I was riding shotgun with Aunt Faye as she drove through town in her fancy hybrid car. “This will be fun!” She beamed over at me.

“Maybe I could get black nail polish for Halloween and my costume for the Masquerade Ball,” I said. I stared down at my beat up hands as if I was considering colors, but was actually plotting what room I should start looking through first, for the grimoire pages.

“We call it
Samhain
, dear.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot.”

“Did you celebrate the holiday when you were a child?”

“Well... it was always a battle,” I recalled. “Mom
hated
Halloween, and Dad loved it. So he would take me out trick-or-treating when I was little, while mom usually went to church. Come to think of it— I can’t remember a Halloween when they didn’t have a big fight...” I trailed off as I thought it over. Knowing what I knew now, I grimaced.

“Susan was always a fussy, frightened little twit,” Aunt Faye said of my mother.

I stayed silent, but I had to agree with my great aunt.

“I am sorry that she has rejected you.” Aunt Faye reached out and gave my hand a comforting squeeze. “Gwen told me.”

I nodded, but didn’t comment.

Aunt Faye whipped her car into an empty parking space at the salon. She turned off the engine and glanced over at me. “Listen to me— even though the house is divided at the moment, we will get through this. And we
are
your family.”

I felt a little chill at her comment. It sounded very similar to what my grandmother had said,
a house divided…
But I gave her a little smile anyway, and opened my car door.

Aunt Faye got out and waited for me to join her. “You have never been, nor will you be, alone, Autumn.”

I stopped and studied her. She stood in a beam of October sunshine, looking like a page from some classy, mature fashion magazine. She was nosey, demanding
and
pushy. But she was really starting to grow on me. “Thank you, Aunt Faye,” I said.

She stuck her elbow out and I threaded my arm through hers. We walked to the entrance of the salon together. “I have really been meaning to talk to you about your choice of footwear.” She gestured to my neon green running shoes.

“Hey, I like bright colors!” I told her.

“I’m not surprised. Seers tend to be attracted to color.”

“Really? That’s interesting,” I said and meant it.

“But dear, you
always
wear tennis shoes. Do you own any heels, or dressy boots?”

I fought against smiling. “I have work boots.”

Aunt Faye shuddered in mock horror. “That’s it. After lunch I’m taking you shopping.”

“You don’t have to...” I tried to argue.

“My girl, the shoes you
do
own are a crime against nature.” Aunt Faye pulled a face as she opened the salon door. “Don’t argue with your elders. Instead, smile and say, ‘Thank you Aunt Faye.’”

“Thank you Aunt Faye.”
You pushy old Witch.
I aimed the thought at her.

“I heard that.” Aunt Faye grinned and held the door open for me.

By the time we returned to the manor it was late in the afternoon. I now had manicured, black fingernails, and I had to admit they did look pretty cool. I now also possessed two new pairs of dressy boots. I had flatly refused the three inch pumps. My great aunt walked around in them with no trouble at all, but I knew better.
God, I’d kill myself trying to walk in heels.

However, I had fallen in love with the boots. I let myself in my room and set the boxes down. I shrugged off my jacket and noticed that the central botanical print that hung above my bed was crooked on the wall. I straightened it, and sat down to open up the boxes.

Both pairs of boots came to right below the knee. One was black suede with a thick heel. They were bad-ass and witchy. Laces went up the front, but the boots actually had a side zipper. The second pair was more serviceable. They were a dark brown with a low heel and reminded me of riding boots. I switched out my running shoes for the brown boots, stood back up, stuck my toe out, and admired them.

Gwen stuck her head in the doorway. “Hey! I like those!”

“Thanks.” I gave her a little smile.

“Aunt Faye?” Gwen asked as she pointed at the boxes.

“Yup. She took me shopping. I tried to tell her no...”

“I see how well that worked out for you,” Gwen said while Merlin nosed past. He headed for the empty boot box, and hopped in.

Gwen and I stood there awkwardly, she in the doorway and me by the bench at the foot of my bed. Neither of us seemed sure of what to say next. I saw her start to say something, and then she shut her mouth.

Merlin popped his head up and meowed at the two of us. I watched his feline eyes narrow. The cat made a growl that sounded like a feline version of muttering, and after making his kitty opinion known, he proceeded to snuggle back into the box.

“I agree, Merlin.” Gwen came in and shut the door. She stopped, patted the cat on the head, and came over to sit on the bench.

“Did we just get a lecture from the cat?” I wanted to know.

Merlin yowled.

“I do believe so.” Gwen’s lips twitched.

I crossed my arms and recalled what Ro had said.
A house divided could not stand.
I decided, then and there, to get this over with. “I think it’s time you and I clear the air.” I sat next to her.

“Yes, I agree. But first, I want you to tell me about your latest visitation from my mother.”

I took a deep breath. Carefully, so as not to divulge any of the secrets my grandmother had told me about the Blood Moon Grimoire, I filled Gwen in— on what I could.

“I wish I could have seen or heard her.” Gwen’s eyes welled up with tears.

“She’s never here very long. She told me she was ‘bound’. Something about the spell that had caused her death?” I frowned over that.

“To be clear, she actually told you that we had alliances to make, and dark magicks to neutralize?” Gwen asked.

“Don’t forget the ‘enemies to defeat’ bit.” I sighed. “But yeah. That’s pretty much it. And honestly, that sounds like a hell of a lot to me.”

Gwen sat silently for a moment. “Autumn, I am sorry that you found out the way you did about Bran being your brother.” Gwen studied my expression before she continued. “I would have told you eventually, but everything happened so quickly. I wanted to give you time to settle into everything first.”

“Bran said he wouldn’t have told me at all,” I pointed out.

“Bran still believes that you
not
knowing would keep you safer.”

“How’s that?”

Gwen shifted to meet my eyes. “He was worried that someone would have tried to manipulate you, and turn you against us. He’s still worried about how the information about your father could affect you.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t easy finding out about my dad’s past.”

“Oh? And what
did
you learn, and from whom?” Gwen raised her eyebrows.

“Rebecca filled me on what my father was like when he was a young man— and how badly he treated Winnie, Bran’s birth mother.” Hoping for more insight, I shared what I had learned.

Gwen cringed. “I’m sorry you had to hear all of that. Arthur was a very spoiled young man.”

“The stories about him are true?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m afraid they are.”

“So, he abandoned Bran’s birth mother—” My temper was making my voice raise, but I didn’t care. “He dumped Bran on you and my grandmother to raise, then turns around and marries my Christian mother a couple of years later— like Bran never even happened?”

“Arthur was captivated by Susan,” Gwen explained. “She was beautiful and adored him. Plus, she knew nothing of our world, nor was she interested in that side of your father’s heritage. After being pursued for who and what he was for so many years, I think that was part of the attraction for your father.”

“You said that they lived here at the manor. Did she know about Bran
before
she married my dad?” I asked.

“No, they eloped, and she didn’t find out until afterwards.”

“I bet that went over well.”

“That’s an understatement.” Gwen rolled her eyes.

“What were my parents like when they were newlyweds— were they happy?”

“At first they were, but your mother did not react well to the family’s magickal practices.” Gwen’s voice toughened. “I’m not ashamed to admit that your mother and I never got along. There are certain things that I cannot forgive.”

Sitting there, I had a horrible thought, or maybe more like a hunch. “Was my mother unkind to Bran?” I was almost afraid to ask.

“Only once,” Gwen practically growled and rested her hand on mine.

As soon as she touched me, the room we were sitting in fell away. A scene rolled out in front of me.

My mother, so young, stood and shouted at a little red-haired boy. She was pregnant and wore a loose fitting blue dress. The child glared up at her with one red cheek and a defiant expression. It was Bran. He cringed away from my mother, even as she raised her hand to slap him again.

Suddenly, Gwen came running up the stairs, her expression murderous. With a gesture— she had my mother flying backwards and pinned against the wall in the upstairs landing. Gwen scooped up Bran and held him while he cried. My father came running to stand between them. He shouted at the both of them while my mother, still pinned up against the wall by Gwen’s magick, screamed her head off.
The vision melted away.

I came back to present time with the sound of my own breathing loud in my ears. The room lurched, and I felt sick to my stomach. “Oh my god.” I dropped my head between my knees.

“What did you see?” Gwen asked and rubbed my back.

I kept my head down as the room spun in sick circles around me and told her what I had
seen
. “It’s like I was there,” I said, my voice thick with tears.

“Take a breath,” Gwen suggested calmly. “In through your nose... Hold it... Now blow it out,” she suggested.

“What made my mother do that?” I asked after I blew out a few slow breaths.

“Bran had been playing in the nursery your mother had set up for you. He broke a trinket, and your mother was angry.”

“He was only a little boy...” I closed my eyes, but it didn’t help much. To me, it felt as if it had only happened a moment ago. It made me feel badly for Bran and left me so angry at my mother. I glanced at Gwen. “Please tell me you scared her so badly that she never touched him again.”

Gwen smiled slowly, and it wasn’t a nice smile. “I promise you. I absolutely
terrified
her.”

“Good, I’m glad,” I said, and meant it. I slowly lifted my head. Fortunately, the nasty after effects of the postcognitive vision seemed to be over.

Gwen started to reach out to me, and thought better of it. “I want to apologize. I need to remember how sensitive you are to memories. Especially strong ones.”

“The more I find out about my parents, the more they seem like strangers.”

“And that is why I tried to protect you.” Gwen stood up and began to pace the floor.

I watched her walk back and forth and struggled to calm myself as well. “
Why?
Why did he turn his back on Bran, but yet, he loved me?”

“Because you were your mother’s daughter.” Gwen stopped, and her eyes were intense. “He once told me that he thought you would be free from the legacy of magick.”

Time to let my super power, sarcasm, off the chain. “Did my father take
any
science classes at college? Or, did no one explain to him how genetics work? Some physical traits
are
hereditary!” I knew I was shouting, but I didn’t care. “I am half tempted to ask Aunt Faye how to do a séance just so I could chew my father out!”

Merlin started to growl from the box, and he rose to stalk closer to where I sat.

“I’d like to see that. Samhain
is
almost upon us...” Gwen said as if she was considering it.

Merlin let out an angry sounding wail and took a swipe at my jeans. Clearly, he didn’t like my idea about the séance, or Gwen’s comment.

“Hey!” I yanked my leg back. The cat sat there glaring at me. “Do you expect me to apologize?” I asked the cat.

Merlin made a noise between a wail and a growl.

“Fine! Fine! I’m sorry,” I told him. Merlin hopped up on the bench and head butted my arm. I blew out a breath. “I just got bitched at and had to apologize to... a cat.” I rubbed Merlin’s ears and shook my head. “I’m going to end up in a home for the ‘forever weird’ if this shit keeps up.”

Gwen laughed and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you...”

“Yes, you are.” I pretended to glare at her. “Go right ahead because I’m going to book
your
room at the home, right next to mine.”

“Maybe we can crochet pot holders together,” Gwen suggested brightly.

“I’m thinking more along the lines of finger painting.”

Gwen burst out laughing. “You remind me so much of your Grandmother Rose at times.”

I grinned. “Really? How?”

“It’s the temper and the sarcasm,” she explained.

The scent of roses bloomed in the air. Strong and sweet, like there were dozens of the flowers in the room. I breathed deep enjoying it. I felt a laugh bubble up as I watched Gwen’s eyes flare very wide. So, she could smell them too. “I suppose Ro, I mean Grandma Rose, liked that comment.”