Secret Of The Rose (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 2) (9 page)

“You know, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and all that,” I said.

Cypress smacked her hand on the dashboard in frustration. “Well, whoever this nasty, spell-casting, bitch is... they’ve gone and pissed me off now!”

“I wasn’t trying to make light of the situation— I was trying to eliminate possibilities. Sorry.” I said to Cypress.

“I know.” Cypress made an effort to pull her temper in. “Megan is one of my best friends. She’s a sweetie. She wouldn’t hurt a fly... let alone steal a boyfriend.”

Holly rubbed her forehead as she thought. “I hate to say this, but we’ve got to get back and figure out how we are going to perform for the Homecoming game tonight. We made do with nine girls when Kellie broke her leg last month. Now Viviane is on crutches and can’t cheer at the game. Kate can cheer, but she can’t do any stunts with her wrist in a brace.”

Cypress nudged Holly. “As your co-captain, I say we pull from the JV squad again to fill the empty spots.

Holly frowned at her. “We’re going to have to.”

Personally, I thought the mystery of the hex was more important than the Homecoming game, but Holly and Cypress were seniors in high school. This was their big night. To them, this clearly was more important. We pulled up to the school, and I let the girls out.

As the girls climbed out of the cab to go join the rest of their squad, I called to them. “You two be careful, you hear me?”

Holly stood with her hand on the open car door. “We will be. See you tonight at the game.”

I waved at them and drove back to the rehab house to pick up Ivy. Ivy put the lawn chairs back in the bed of my truck and hopped in the cab. Duncan came out to give me a kiss goodbye.

Before he could kiss me, I said. “I saw your uncle right across the street before the accident happened with the cheerleader’s float.”

Duncan frowned. “Are you saying that you think he’s involved?”

“No... I don’t know!” I said. “It’s just weird is all.”

“We can discuss it when I pick you up for the game tonight. He leaned in through my open car window and kissed me, lingering over it.

Ivy made a wolf whistle, and, despite all the magickal incidents, Duncan and I grinned at each other.

Tonight was the night. After the game, I was going back to his place.

Tonight.
Duncan pushed his thoughts to me.

I smiled at that, but I had to admit that the build up was starting to get to me. I wasn’t sure if that was the stress from the magickal situation the family was dealing with, the ghost, the family tree discovery, or just the waiting to finally being completely alone with Duncan.

“So, what did you think of the parade?” Ivy asked me too cheerfully.

“Well, never let it be said that William’s Ford is a boring place to live.” I left the truck idle in the driveway. “I told Cypress and Holly that I think the hex is still in play.”

Ivy sighed. “I am going to have to agree. This is
crazy
.”

“Did you get ahold of your mom and let her know Holly was okay?” I asked.

“Yup.” Ivy pulled at her bottom lip.

“So what do we do now?”

“I say we break into Megan’s locker and see if a doll has been planted,” Ivy suggested as she stowed her camera away.

I laughed as I put the truck in gear. “Listen Sherlock, we can’t stroll into the school and go rifling through her locker looking for clues...”

“Wanna bet?” Ivy challenged.

“Oh shit, are you
serious
?”

“Sure, the squad will be busy, and there won’t be many people around.” Ivy seemed to consider the possibilities.

I backed the truck out of the driveway and decided on the spot to go back to the girl’s high school. At least this was proactive. We were doing
something,
and not just sitting around and waiting for the next cheerleader to get hurt.

When Ivy realized where we were headed, she patted my thigh. “Stick with me and follow my lead, Watson.”

I snorted out a laugh. Five minutes later, I found myself skulking along in a hall of Central High. “I swear to God, if we get caught, I’m gonna strangle you.”

“Relax,” Ivy said, ambling along without a care in the world.

“Would this be considered a misdemeanor or a felony?” I whispered to her.

We had strolled into the school so easily, that it made my hackles rise. I saw one janitor pushing a cart down the hall, and Ivy gave him a cheerful wave.

“Will you calm down?” Ivy hissed at me. She stopped, leaned around the next corner, and gave me a ‘come ahead’ gesture.

I made an effort to act more casual, and I relaxed my shoulders. “Do I even wanna know how you know which locker is Megan’s?” Ivy tossed a look over her shoulder and, like the classic television witch, twitched her nose at me. I clamped a hand over my mouth before nervous laughter could escape.

“Here we go.” Ivy said as she approached a row of lockers. While I anxiously kept watch, Ivy laid her hand over one lock and muttered something under her breath. I heard the unmistakable sound of the lock clicking open. “Ta da!” Ivy made a flourishing gesture, and the locker door opened on its own.

“Cool,” I said in admiration.

“I love the smell of telekinesis in the afternoon.” Ivy grinned at me.

“It does come in handy.” I scanned the hallway again. “In case you do find something, don’t touch it with your bare hands. Use this.” I handed her an old grocery bag that I had picked up from the parade route.

For a few nerve wracking moments, Ivy searched through Megan’s locker. She handed me Megan’s purse, and I opened it and peeked inside. I found nothing but the typical items: a cell phone, wallet, a few cosmetics. “We should drop Megan’s purse off at her house,” Ivy told me.

I nodded my head in agreement. “Good idea.” A quick search had revealed nothing suspicious with Megan’s books, so Ivy patted down the purple backpack that was hanging from a hook inside the locker. When she yanked her hands back from the open backpack, I felt my stomach turn over.

“I think something
is
in there,” she breathed, pointing at the backpack.

“Do you want me to do it?” I asked her.

Ivy checked up and down the hallway again. “Nope, I got this.” She stuck her hand inside the plastic bag and reached inside the backpack with the bag covering her hand. I watched her dig to the bottom of the backpack. She made a face and pulled out a mutilated doll, wrapped in fabric strips and twine.

“Son of a bitch.” I said. I wasn’t surprised, but damn it, Megan was a really nice girl, and this seemed cruel. “Isn’t it unusual for someone to cast spells like this?” I shook my head as we stood looking down at the poppet.

“The kind of spells that purposefully cause bodily harm?” Ivy regarded me steadily. “Yeah, it is rare.” Moving quickly, Ivy grabbed the handles of the bag and pulled the whole bag inside out around the poppet. She wrapped the bag around the doll and handed it to me. She closed the locker herself and, without another word, we started walking out of the building immediately with Megan’s purse and the wrapped poppet.

As soon as we stepped outside, Megan’s cell phone started to ring.

“Let’s go drop off Megan’s purse at her house,” I suggested.

“I want to text Cypress and Holly and let them know about the new poppet,” Ivy said.

“Oh god, your mom,” I realized. “We need to let her know we found another one, as well.”

Ivy whipped out her cell phone and started texting. I stuck the bag holding the poppet in the back of my truck under the spare tire as I had with the last doll. Since I didn’t have any salt to combat negativity, I improvised a quick protective prayer when I got back in the truck. “By the powers of the earth, air, fire and water; Goddess please protect your daughters.”

Ivy reached over and drew a circle clockwise around my steering wheel and drew an upright pentagram over it. “As we will it...”

“So shall it be,” I finished. I started up my truck and, following Ivy’s directions, drove to Megan’s. I drove as carefully as if I had dynamite in the back of my pickup truck.

With that poppet back there— it felt like there was.

CHAPTER SIX

Three poppets lay side-by-side on the workbench. Gwen had closed down the shop early for the Homecoming parade, and I stood with her and Bran in the garage. Once again, the bindings from the newest poppet had been burnt in the fire pit. More bay leaves and angelica were sprinkled, and now the astringent aroma of fresh rue was added around the dolls as well.

I tried to listen attentively as Gwen chanted over the poppets to bind their malicious energy,
again.
Gwen expanded the containment circle of silver to thirteen pieces by adding another knife and three silver spoons. When she finished, she stepped back with the two of us.

Bran stood and frowned at the trio of dolls. He was, as usual, immaculately groomed. Today in the breast pocket of his dark suit he had one of those little pocket square thingies. It matched his burgundy tie, and it irritated the hell out of me. He hadn’t even had the chance to unpack from the conference he’d been at for the past few days. His suitcase was still sitting in the kitchen.

I nudged him with an elbow. “See what fun you missed by being at your conference this week?” I whispered.

He patted my arm. “Well, I’m here now,” he said in what I’m sure he
thought
was a comforting tone.

He may have been a hero when Ivy was abducted, but he
still
got on my last nerve. I sighed at him. Loudly. “Oh good. That makes me feel
so
much better.” My derision rolled right off him.

Gwen rolled her shoulders and rubbed at the back of her neck. “I have never seen anything like this. Four girls have been hurt in the past six weeks. The first with a broken leg, this week Kate sprained her wrist, Viviane injured her ankle during practice, and now Megan’s broken her arm from the accident during the parade.”

Bran held out his hands over the poppets. He blew out a breath between his teeth. “Do we know if there was a poppet found when the first girl was hurt?”

Gwen continued to rub at her neck, “No one has mentioned Kellie finding one.”

I rolled my own shoulders, they were starting to cramp in sympathy as I watched Gwen.

Bran tucked his hands back in his pants pockets, as he seemed to consider. “There was a significant amount of dark magick bound up into these poppets. Whoever created these is remarkably skilled in the arts. I also sense that the caster of the hex is female.”

Exasperated by the bizarre events of the day, I turned my irritation towards Bran. “Golly, do you think?” I snarked. “Well thanks for that brilliant insight, Captain Obvious. This whole thing reeks of jealousy or revenge, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that somebody, probably a student, has it in for the girls on the squad.”

“Autumn,” Gwen chided me.

I rubbed at the back of my own neck, unable to ignore the tension that was gathering there. “God this is frustrating!” I snapped. “We are
Witches,
for gods sake. Why can’t we put a stop to this hex? This is getting way out of hand. Holly could be next! I mean, what’s the point of having powers or abilities if we don’t use them to solve problems, or protect ourselves?” Gwen stood there and silently studied me. Fed up, I stormed back into the house.

I tossed my denim jacket down next to a big book on herbalism that lay on the table and blew out a long aggravated breath. I knew that losing my temper wouldn’t solve anything, but I had so much happening in my life at the moment. Grad school, trying to find time to study the Craft, Ro the ghost, my relationship with Duncan, finding my place in the family, the tragedy of my brother, the search for the missing grimoire... and now
this
mess. Even mentally listing everything on my plate made my shoulders tighten up.

There had to be a way to get some control over this situation. I deliberately looked at the pretty bundles of herbs that hung from the beams of the potting room and tried to calm myself down. There was always something about the atmosphere in this room that made me feel better. Gwen had told me that my father had fixed up this room for his mother, Rose. Maybe that was why I tended to be drawn to it when I was at my most frazzled.

I reached out and ran my fingers over the fuzzy leaves of a potted African violet. Looking at all of the blooming plants, drying herbs and the big apothecary chest filled with all sorts of magickal ingredients, I felt my shoulders start to loosen slightly. I flipped open the book on magickal herbs, and out of curiosity, thumbed to the listing for African violets.

I read the magickal properties of the African violet, and had to smile. According to the book, the African violet encouraged protection when grown indoors, and its purple flowers promoted love and spirituality. Why was I not surprised? Aunt Gwen never missed a trick.

I heard them come into the house behind me, and I closed the book. Gwen moved into my line of sight. She stood there, seeming remarkably calm, in a pretty blue tunic sweater and grey leggings. “Autumn, I know that you are frustrated. However, you need to understand that a competent Witch does not go around casting spells indiscriminately. Not without knowing exactly where to focus their talents and energy.”

I thought about that for a moment. “But all we are doing is defense. Containing the dark magick from the poppets... It’s all
after
the fact, and the damage to those four girls has already been done. Isn’t it time to be a little proactive?” I argued.

Gwen gave me a little smile. “As in the best defense is a great offense?”

“Exactly!” I agreed.

“Alright, where do you suggest we focus our magick?’ she inquired smoothly. “For example, if you cast a counter spell on the individual that you
think
might be responsible, what do you imagine would happen if you were wrong? Where would that magickal energy go, and what would the price be for casting on an innocent?”

Damn it. I hated it when she was all logical. I also recognized that my aunt was absolutely correct. “Yeah, yeah... I get what you are saying. We need to be totally sure who the caster is. Otherwise, if we throw around more magick—”