Secret Of The Rose (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 2) (28 page)

“Are you sure? Maybe it’s a mistake?” Holly asked.

“I was at the accident scene.” Lexie said quietly.

Dead. Aunt Gwen was
dead.
Now? After what we’d been through? How could this happen when we were just beginning to come back together?

The twins started to sob. I blindly reached out, and they both fell into my arms. Duncan wrapped his arms around all of us, holding on as we all cried together. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered to the girls. I pressed kisses to each of their heads.

I knew Lexie had delivered the news as quickly as possible on purpose. When my father had died, and the police came to inform us, they’d said close to the same. Lexie went to Bran. She hunkered down in front of his chair and laid her hands on Bran’s knees.

“I truly am sorry for your loss,” Lexie said.

Bran’s chest heaved once, and tears welled up in his eyes. Lexie held out her arms, and he leaned into her embrace.

They held each other. I clutched onto the girls, and Duncan held me.

Outside the sleet came down and beat against the windows. The wind howled around the manor, almost as if it was grieving with the family. Maybe it was.

EPILOGUE

The November sky was a hard and brilliant blue. A cold wind blew, stripping any remaining leaves from icy tree branches. While scarves and heavy coats rippled in the wind, I sat with my cousins, Great Aunt Faye, and my brother at the side of Gwen’s grave. I studied the large crowd that had gathered for my aunt’s funeral. I saw all of the coven members, their families, Holly and Ivy’s father and his family, and many other people from the community. Gwen Bishop had been respected and loved.

An awning had been erected blocking some of the bitterly cold wind, but not all of it. They had ushered the immediate family in to sit in five metal chairs at the graveside. First, Aunt Faye, then Bran. Holly, Ivy were third and fourth, and lastly— me. Lexie stood behind Bran, and Marie and Cypress Rousseau were right behind the girls. Duncan and his mother stood behind me. I was grateful for Rebecca’s kindness and Duncan’s hand on my shoulder.

I tried to focus on the flowers, and not the casket. The sympathy arrangements that had been placed along side of the coffin were filled with brilliant and bright autumn flowers. Their vivid colors seemed defiant somehow, and I knew that Gwen would have approved.

To my relief, very few people had worn mourning black to the funeral. Instead, I had seen lots of white and plenty of bright colors. I tugged my long, blue skirt down over the top of my suede dress boots and fastened the top button on my purple wool coat in defense against the cold that seemed determined to blow down my neck. I felt Ivy shift beside me, and I squeezed her gloved hand.

She turned her head to look at me, and her dark sunglasses concealed her eyes but not her grief. She held Holly’s hand too, and they leaned into each other. Holly’s brilliant hair shone against the pale blue winter wool, while Ivy sat shivering in her long burgundy coat. Bran sat in his dark blue wool trench coat staring directly ahead, his eyes never leaving the casket. Aunt Faye was stoic. Her hair was in an elegant twist that even the bitter wind couldn’t unravel. She wore a black and white Houndstooth cape over a long white woolen dress. A crescent shaped pin of garnets sparkled on her cloak.

The officiant, a Priestess, Bran had informed me, concluded the ceremony. “Merry Meet. Merry Part. And Merry Meet again,” she said.

The group echoed the words back.

The funeral director handed each of the five of us a white rose. We were to step forward one by one and place a long stemmed flower on the lid of the coffin now that the ceremony was completed.

Seeing Aunt Faye, Bran, and the girls do so was brutally hard. I watched as they arranged the flowers one by one into the shape of an upright pentagram. My stomach roiled. It made me recall the vision I’d had at the Ball and again on the day of Gwen’s car accident.

I went last. I tried to be strong, but a sob escaped anyway. “Merry Part, Gwen,” I said, and carefully placed the rose with the others so the star shape was completed.

The Priestess came forward to shake all of our hands, and the funeral director started to usher us slowly away from the graveside. We were quietly escorted to the funeral home’s limousine to be driven back to the manor. However, before we could leave, the five of us ended up standing in a line accepting a few last condolences. People seemed determined for one last handshake or a parting hug no matter how cold it was.

Marie Rousseau handled the people who remained, subtly shifting folks away. She stood tall and strong, her red coat was a bright splash of color against the dreary, icy cemetery. I heard her invite the twins’ father and stepmother back to the manor for food now that the ceremony was complete. I waited until she was free, and I went and hugged her hard.

“Thank you for helping us,” I said. My voice cracked with emotion. I held on while she squeezed me tight.

“Girl, no worries. I got your back.” Marie said. “I’ll head to the manor and get things started.”

As Marie and Cypress left, Duncan came to stand with me and put an arm around my shoulders. He’d been an unshaking source of support for me over the past few days. I was beyond grateful for him being at my side. The familiar little zip of energy when we touched was still there, but muffled somewhat from the sadness of the day.

I turned to shake hands with a member from the museum board, and as I murmured my thanks to him for coming, I saw a lone figure walking towards the gravesite. It was a man wearing a long grey overcoat. Sunglasses shielded his face, and a hat was tipped down over his brow.

As Holly and Ivy climbed into the limo, I watched the elegant man, who carried a single, long-stemmed red rose, stop and stand at the side of my aunt’s open grave with his head down. Suddenly, I felt my hair stand up on end.
It was Thomas Drake.

“Stay with my family,” I said to Duncan, marching back through the cemetery.

“Autumn, wait,” Duncan said, his voice pitched low.

“I mean it,” I said from over my shoulder. “Keep them all safe.”

My knee length, black boots crunched softly as I moved quickly down the frozen gravel path. As I walked towards Thomas Drake, I heard a crow calling from somewhere close by. Thomas angled his head up as he too focused on the crow that had landed on the top of a nearby oak tree. I wasn’t sure what amazed me more... the man’s audacity to come to the funeral, or that I managed not to make a scene the moment I recognized him.

“You are not welcome here.” I said, my anger making me brave as I faced him from the opposite side of the casket.

Thomas removed his sunglasses. To my shock, I could see that he was grieving. “I came to pay my respects,” he said and tucked his sunglasses into his breast pocket. “Your aunt was a brave and wise woman.”

“It’s a little late to be remorseful you son of a bitch,” I kept my voice down. I had no illusions that we’d have more than a few moments to speak. “It’s your curse that started this. All of the deaths, the accidents...
you
caused them with your dark magick.”

Thomas looked me straight in the eye. “I did not curse your family.”

“Liar!” I snarled.

“I have
never
lied to you,” Thomas’ voice was soft, but his eyes were intense. “I tried to warn you the Blood Moon Grimoire is powerful. The more pieces you assemble, the more dangerous it becomes. Clearly you have found more pages. You must return them all to me for your own safety.”

“So you’re telling me you want the grimoire pages back so you can
protect
everyone?” I scoffed at him. “That’s real noble of you.”

Thomas reached across the casket and gripped my coat sleeve. “I did not curse your family twenty years ago, that was the destructive purpose of the grimoire.”

“Let go of me right now— or I will knock you on your ass,” I said between my teeth.

A funeral home employee stepped up, “Is there a problem here?” he asked.

“No.” Thomas focused on him, and the man’s face went blank. “Leave us,” Thomas said. The man turned and walked away without another word.

“You stand over my aunt’s casket, do magick on innocent bystanders and expect me to believe you?” I said.

“There is always a price to be paid for those who do not understand or respect the grimoire’s power.” He gripped my sleeve tighter, apparently, to make his point. “Julian’s exposure to the leather bindings was enough to send him into madness.”

I yanked my arm back and considered.
So, they had the fourth piece the bindings.
“You talk like the book is alive,” I said.

“It is sentient. Haven’t you noticed that the pages change?”

Oh god. So far Duncan and I had been the only ones who could make the pages come to life. That meant Thomas could as well.
My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed that more crows had flown in and landed in the surrounding trees.

“How you have managed to not be tainted by the book is the real mystery,” he said. “And it’s one we must solve.” Thomas gently laid the red rose on the casket. He brushed his gloved fingers over the casket lid and stepped back. “Let me work with you and your family. Only together can we bind the power of the Blood Moon Grimoire once and for all.”

“Thomas Drake.” Great Aunt Faye, the last person I had expected to appear, stepped up. She put her arm around my waist and stood with me. Looking feisty and tough, she stared the man down.

“Aunt Faye, I—”

“You’ve been brave enough,” Aunt Faye cut me off, but gave me an approving nod. She focused her full attention onto Thomas. “Today is not the day for topics such as these.”

“You know this must be settled and soon.” Thomas scowled at us. He took a breath to argue, but before any sound came out, I felt Aunt Faye draw up an amazing amount of magickal energy.

Oh shit.
I wanted to duck for cover, but I was at the center of that storm. With no where to go, I could only stand by her side. I made a split second decision and tucked my left arm around her waist firmly linking us together. I opened myself up energetically and lent Aunt Faye whatever magick she needed.

Somehow, I managed to stay steady when her energy lashed out.

Thomas Drake was knocked back two full steps. He staggered but caught himself on a nearby tombstone. He stared in shock at my great-aunt.

“As the head of the Bishop family, I am the one to say when that time will be.” Aunt Faye inclined her head regally. “Rest assured Thomas,
I
will speak with you when my family is ready and not one minute before.”

Thomas Drake nodded at that, tipped his hat in deference to my great-aunt, turned and walked silently away from the grave.

“Come with me now, dear.” Aunt Faye tugged me away from the gravesite, and we started walking towards the limousine still linked with our arms around each others waist.

The noise of our footsteps on the gravel path seemed overly loud after what had happened. “That was some pretty impressive magick you just threw down...” I shivered in reaction from that and from the cold. “You are one scary old lady, you know that?” I gave her waist a gentle squeeze.

“Don’t you forget it.” She squeezed me right back.

Even with the sadness of the day, I couldn’t help but smile a little. “I love you. You old Witch.”

“And I love you. Don’t worry now, we will get through this, together.”

Somehow, hearing her say that— I believed it. While dozens of crows circled and called above us, we walked through the icy graveyard towards the waiting limousine and our family.

The End    

Legacy of Magick: Book Three    

Coming January 2016