Witch Eyes (18 page)

Trey’s cell. Should I pick up? The last time we’d really talked, he’d had a gun on someone. Not entirely without reason, but that wasn’t the point. I wasn’t sure what to do with that new facet of his personality. If he could pull a gun on Drew, then he could certainly do the same to me. Or worse.

“Hello?” Like it or not, I still wanted to hear his voice.

“I didn’t think you were going to pick up,” he admitted after a moment of static.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to. You pulled a gun on someone,” I said slowly.

There was a draw of breath on the other end of the line. “Braden, you don’t understand what you got involved in. I tried to warn you.”

“Yeah, you did. And I didn’t listen.” Somehow, that
didn’t make it any better. “But you went out there with me hoping he’d show up, didn’t you? You knew he’d come back.”

“You’re feeling better? You were out of it last night.”

That’s right. Trey must have taken me home. I didn’t remember anything after the cemetery. “Better now. What do you want, Trey?”

“Dinner. A chance to talk. And, remember? My mother’s expecting you.”

That was all I needed. Having Catherine breathing down my neck while I was trying to figure out what was going on with Lucien wasn’t the best idea. Then again, maybe I could learn something if I went to dinner with them.

There wasn’t much Catherine could throw at me that I couldn’t stop. But the encounter with Jason had just stressed something I hadn’t thought of before. Endurance. Jason had it, and if Catherine was even close to as strong as he was, then she could probably outlast me in a fight.

“You still there?”

“Today’s not a good day. There’s a lot of stuff going on,” I said, trying to find some way out of it.
Our parents want each other dead, you hate my father, and your mother’s going to try to kill me when she realizes what I see
.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Maybe you’re not understanding me. When she invited you to dinner, she wasn’t leaving you an option to cancel. There’s enough going on out there without her thinking you’re going to fall under Jason’s spell.”

I laughed. Couldn’t help it—that was funny. Falling under another witch’s spell. Trey wasn’t laughing, of course. “Why? This isn’t the meet-the-boyfriend dinner. We’ll do it another time.” Like never, if I could help it.

“Where are you at?” Trey’s voice was full of curiosity, as a car horn blared behind me.

“Somewhere in town.” At some point in the conversation, I’d stopped paying attention to directions, and now nothing really looked familiar. “I told you, I’ve got a lot on my plate. I already missed a day of school, and I can’t get behind.”

Trey wasn’t buying it. “I’ll come pick you up,” he assured me. “She’ll calm down once she’s had a chance to get to know you, I promise.”

I debated. More research, or a chance to learn more about the Lansings firsthand?

“Fine, whatever. Let me just figure out where I am first.”

¤ ¤ ¤

There wasn’t any talking on the drive. It was an unspoken rule from the moment I stepped inside. Trey barely looked at me, just pulled up to the curb and waited.

Maybe I
could use the time with Catherine to find out more about Grace. A family anecdote, or some sort of ghost story that had been passed down. I glanced at Trey, and saw the way the muscles in his jaw were clench
ing and then releasing. Clench. Release. Maybe talking to him right now wasn’t such a good idea.

We nearly drove out of town, heading the way I’d come in from the bus station. Trees lined one side of the road, thick and green and barely touched by the onset of fall. There was only a hint of red to the leaves, almost as if they’d decided that this year they wouldn’t bow down before the cold season.

“She’ll think you’re trying to play both sides. Jason’s back in town, so she doesn’t have the luxury to ignore it. Everything’s been quiet since he tried to kill my dad, but something like this would start it all over again.”

It wasn’t so much his words as the sound of his voice that surprised me. I’d gotten used to the silence during the ride. We were turning down into a long and elegant driveway with little brick markers leading the way. “I thought it stopped after whatever happened to Carmen?”

Trey shook his head. “Jason really didn’t do anything that time. Nothing that could really violate their truce. But Mom never got over the first time he tried to kill my dad.”

“Is that why you hate him? Jason?” I asked gently.

He didn’t say anything, but I saw the jaw flex again. Hesitating, I reached out for his hand, clutched around the stick. The skin was cool, a dampness I didn’t expect. Trey was always so in control, always comfortable taking the lead.

“You’re just not thinking clearly,” he went on, as though nothing had happened. “She’ll take care of you. I wil
l too. Jason wouldn’t touch you after that. Besides,” he added, with a semblance of humor streaking through his eyes, “you can take care of yourself. Can’t you?”

All he wanted was to take care of me. I knew that. He knew Drew was a threat, and that’s why he’d pulled the gun. Something wrenched itself in my stomach. Someone finally cared about me, and I didn’t deserve it.

The path of trees cleared. We were there.

Twenty-Six

Even knowing the size and prowess of the Lansing name, I was stunned to see the house. The mansion. It was every bit as elegant as I should have expected from someone like Catherine, a brownstone complex that was full of large windows and gardens everywhere.

It was one part English manor and one part Gothic Revival, which somehow made perfect sense. The Lansing house was far enough away from town that you could almost forget it was within the city limits. It was exactly the sort of place you’d expect one of the founding families to live—isolated from the locals, and yet completely majestic.

Trey slowed the car as we pulled around the circular end of the drive. Everything I saw, from the hint of rose gardens off to one side to the sculptured ferns and bushes, suggested someone with exquisite taste had gone to town all over the property. It wasn’t over the top; in fact, if anything, it was understated compared to the house.

Thick auburn stones made up the bulk of the manse—not quite a mansion, but something far grander than a house. The building gently sloped off to the sides, hints of expanded wings in the back with a much lighter, newer-looking stone.

“You ready for this?” Trey was all cool and calm once more, unaffected by our conversation.

Was I? “Sure,” I said, sounding a lot more positive than I actually felt. Keeping secrets in town was one thing, but walking right into the Lansing home and lying to Catherine’s face was something else entirely.

Part of me felt like the longer I was around Catherine, the faster my secrets would come spilling out. Like all she had to do was look at me, and she’d know.

“There’s still an hour or so until dinner,” Trey said after a glance down at his watch. “C’mon, let me show you the house.”

I wiped my hands against my jeans, trying to stave off the dampness as he led me through the foyer.

Trey saw the movement, and he smiled. “No reason to be nervous. She already likes you.”

“Only because I’m a witch. She doesn’t know me.”

“She will,” was all he said.

I expected to walk into a museum, but the interior of the house surprised me. Everything was done in shades of creams and whites, but everything was functional instead of standoffish the way I’d assumed. Despite the colors, everything felt warm and used.

“C’mon, I’ll show you the kitchen.”

He led me through the back of the living room, down a hallway, and through a formal dining room that was already set with four plates. My stomach turned again, seeing double. But I wasn’t having some sort of vision problem—there really were two spoons and two forks on opposite sides of the place settings. I was totally out of my element.

Everything I’d seen so far was a mixture of taste and restraint. I didn’t need to be told that Catherine had decorated everything herself; I could almost see her walking through the house, pulling the decorations back just a little bit.

But what about the secrets,
I wondered.
All the places that she doesn’t want the public to see.
I half-expected Trey to point out the bricked-up wing of the house where they’d chained their enemies, or the rooms that Catherine had devoted to her dark magic.

“Braden?” I looked up to see that Trey had left me far behind. Or I’d slowed on my way down the hall. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, glancing down a darkened hallway to my left.
Victims trapped in guest rooms. Conditioned. Manipulated. And why is the house so quiet? Don’t they have servants?
“I’m … I’m fine,” I finally managed, tearing my gaze away. Trey was giving me a look, but I ducked my head and stepped into the kitchen.

Massive. All the appliances were stainless steel, the countertops were dark marble, and everything else was white. White cabinets, flooring, a white chandelier o
ver the islands in the center of the room. And as much as I’d have liked to imagine Catherine hanging people from the hooks in the ceiling, the only thing they actually held were copper pots.

It was also empty. No sign of the meal we were supposed to be eating soon, or anyone to prepare it.

“So what do you think?” Trey asked, leaning against one of the island counters.

I think maybe this is a trap.
My stomach was crawling. “It’s … interesting.”

His eyes locked on mine. “That’s it?”

“What do you expect?”

He shrugged, and looked away. “Most people act a little more impressed.”

“You want me to ooh and ahh?”

He looked annoyed, which I didn’t understand. “Forget it.”

I wasn’t sure what I’d done to piss him off.

“Sometimes, you’re so—” He cut himself off, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Forget it.” He opened the refrigerator door and rooted around inside. After a moment he emerged with a pair of bottled water
s. He tossed one to me, which I managed to catch without dropping. Hurray for Team Braden on that one.

“Hey, I didn’t even want to do this today,” I said. “So if I did something to piss you off, you might as well say something.”

The look I got in reaction was incredulous. “Do you have any idea how much of a risk my mother’s taking? And you’re so ungrateful. She’s doing this to
help
you, and you act like you can’t even be bothered.”

Now it was my turn for surprise. I wanted to laugh, but didn’t. “This doesn’t have anything to do with helping me. Or helping
you
, for that matter. This is all about collecting the new piece on the chess board.”

Surprising both of us, Catherine’s voice cut through the budding argument and stopped my irritation cold. “And how’s Braden enjoying his tour of the house, Gentry?” She swept into the room in demure silver cashmere and jeans. Her hair was pulled up, leaving her looking not a day past thirty, let alone mother to two teenagers. She reminded me of the stories of the faerie Ice Queen I’d heard when I was younger.

Trey glanced my way, his expression unreadable. “I think he’s a little underwhelmed.”

“Have you taken him through the library yet? He might find something there to whet his appetite,” she said casually, as if she just invited everyone in to peruse her books. “Or maybe he’d like to see the trophy room?”

“You have a trophy room?” I blurted out without thinking. Catherine’s amused chuckle was all it took for my face to flush.

“It’s really just a room to collect some important memorabilia,” Catherine said, her voice warm. She was really freaking me out with the Happy Homemaker thing. “Some of my sister’s early art is in there. And Gentry has a few swimming trophies in there too, don’t you, dear?”

Trey nodded. It was still hard for me to picture him as a Gentry. The name fit, but it was still strange. “Our Aunt Alex lives in New York,” he explained for my benefit. “You’ll probably like her work. She uses a lot of light and color.”

I almost choked on my water at that, and the way Trey’s gaze was homed in on me. “I didn’t realize you had any brothers or sisters, Mrs. Lansing,” I said, trying to recover some semblance of control over myself.

“Catherine, Braden. Call me Catherine. I insist.” The request hardened her voice, suggesting I wouldn’t like it if I didn’t listen this time. “Especially if we’re going to be working together soon.”

“Sorry, of course, Catherine.” I twisted the cap back onto the water, and then kept twisting, feeling the grooves of the plastic top pulling at my skin. “I don’t know what Trey’s told you, but I … can’t be involved in whatever it is you’re involved in.”

The two of them shared a look before Catherine turned another beaming smile in my direction. “No one’s asking you to do anything you don’t believe in, Braden.”

Trey was right there to chime in after her. Almost like they’d planned this. “But you don’t have any idea wha
t Jason Thorpe will do to you. I told you he’s a monster, Braden. I wasn’t exaggerating.”

“Jason isn’t the one who tried to kill me,” I said, watching Catherine.

I expected some sort of shock, a stumble or a flicker in her eyes that would admit that she knew what I was talking about. But there was only a moment where she absorbed the words, turning fully to me. Studying me, almost like it was the first time.

“Braden!” Trey’s face was instantly scarlet.

Catherine held up a hand, warding him off. “And someone’s convinced you … ahh, I see.” Her lips pursed out, and for a second it looked like she was going to smile. “Someone tried to kill you? You’re sure?”

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

She moved past her son and opened the refrigerator. She pulled out a tray full of small, golden pastries with some sort of white and gold cream on top. “I almost forgot. It’s a new recipe I’m thinking of introducing at the restaurant.”

“Mom, I didn’t—”

“It’s fine, Gentry,” she murmured. The plate was set on the island between us, Catherine and me. “Braden’s right to be suspicious.” She leaned on the counter, eyes locked with mine. “But you already know I wasn’t responsible, don’t you?”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe.”

I couldn’t look away from her eyes. It was like I was locked in place. “You snuck in under my nose, influenced my children, and flaunted your gifts for all to see. But if I’d wanted you out of my way, Braden, I have had two days to rectify that situation.”

“Mom … ” Trey’s voice was a warning.

“Just making sure Braden understands I’m not the monster he seems to think,” she said, as if we were talking about anything other than murder. “Although I have a good idea who’s been planting these nasty little ideas in your head.”

She knows.
My heart wasn’t content to leap into my throat: it slammed against my ribs, snapped my chest in half, punched a hole through my stomach, and nearly—

“You boys should try some of these. I made a fresh batch last night.” With a sly smile in my direction, she added, “They’re just sinful.”

My hand had reached out and grabbed at one of the delicacies while I was still in the midst of my panic state. I couldn’t help myself; my fingers moved without my control.

Catherine didn’t seem to notice; her smile was simple indulgence. “You know better than that, don’t you, my boy? I would never ruin a useful tool before I had a chance to test it out. Although keeping you out of Jason’s grasp does make a certain amount of sense as well.”

My lips parted, the doughy dessert starting to melt the second it touched my tongue, leaving behind only a sweet explosion of icing. The taste shocked me out of whatever fugue state I’d been in.

I glanced at Trey. He had turned to face one of the windows, his head shaking. A queasiness started to unravel in my stomach. I forced myself not to look at Catherine again—it was something in her eyes that kept me from looking away. Something wasn’t right here. Something had gone very wrong.

“What brought you to Belle Dam, Braden? My son mentioned your family was going through some sort of separation?”

The words came out almost automatically. I didn’t even realize I’d spoken until after I was done. “I lived with my uncle, but he was in trouble. I had to get away from him.”

That wasn’t what I’d meant to say. My eyes widened slightly, thankfully hidden from Catherine’s expectant look.

“That’s enough, Mother.” Trey’s voice was firm as he turned away from the window and came to stand by me. “Besides, you have a visitor.”

“Braden and I are just getting to know one another,” she replied smoothly, resting her perfectly manicured nails against the marble countertop. “Aren’t we, Braden?”

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, Catherine,” I blurted. What was wrong with me?

I looked to Trey, but he was staring at his mother. What was I missing?

Catherine wasn’t about to be told what to do by her child. “You’re not trying to hurt my son, are you, Braden? This isn’t some game to snare yourself a Lansing, is it?”

“I’m trying not to. It’s the last thing I want,” I said, again without thinking. It was like the filter between my mouth and my brain was gone, and everything that was coming out was …

She couldn’t have.
I would have known if Catherine had used magic against me, felt it brush against my skin or something. The nausea in my stomach was getting worse, threatening to unleash contents in my stomach that weren’t even there.

“Come along, Catherine. We have business to attend to, and I have to be back in the city before dark.” Lucien swept into the room, clad in a tailored blue suit.

Catherine and Lucien were working together
screamed through my head. Followed immediately by
he’s going to tell her about me.
I spun around, but Trey was blocking my way like a wall of steel. I tried pushing my way past him, but he wasn’t going anywhere. I could see the tension tightening the lines on his face, and knew he wasn’t any happier to see Lucien than I was.

“Have you met Braden yet, Lucien? Braden Michaels, isn’t it?” Catherine swept her gaze between the two of us.

Lucien’s expression was inscrutable. “Your son finds himself a beau, and you invite him over for a playdate. How very modern of you.”

Catherine’s hollow chuckle reverberated through the room. “You should know that
my
family has always been very accepting of our own. All the more reason for you to reconsider.”

Reconsider what
? I pressed my lips together, afraid of what might come out.

“A pity Jason missed out on this one,” Catherine murmured, a hint of feral satisfaction settling across her face. “He’ll be quite the talented apprentice, won’t you?”

She looked at me, and my tongue loosened itself once more. “My uncle never thought so. He said the magic came too easily to me, and it made me lazy. Not like him.” My mouth opened to continue, a fact I realized with horror, and I bit down as hard as I could.

Fire lanced through my tongue, betrayed by the nearby teeth. The throbbing heat that burned my mouth stopped whatever else I had been about to say. It gave me the opportunity I needed. I shoved at Trey, trying to make him relent.

He grabbed my arm, the muscles in his jaws flexing. “I’m taking Braden out to see the gardens. He’s starting to look a little green.” He didn’t wait for Catherine or Lucien to acknowledge us, but pulled me to the French doors leading outside.