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Authors: Neely Powell

BOOK: Witch's Awakening
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“Makes sense to me,” Frances said. “And as mad as you are, Sarah, you know we'd be foolish not to heed what Willow is saying. She has access to what's behind The Mirror. She has walked in that world. Her magic is great.”

“She is powerful,” Aiden offered. “Centuries old and far-seeing. She didn't have to come and tell us anything.”

Sarah rose and picked up her son-in-law's plate along with her own. “Willow's power doesn't mean she knows what best for us.”

“No,” Delia said. “But you've never been one to believe you had all the answers.”

Sarah didn't respond as she exited into the kitchen.

Defending Sarah was an unnatural role for Brenna, but she found herself angry that Delia would criticize the coven leader. “Since when have your participated in rituals here?”

“That doesn't mean I don't know how important it is,” Delia replied. “Besides, rituals and magic are what your father and I research. We know what they mean for keeping balance in the world.”

“And we all know how important your research is,” Brenna said, “so important you're never here for any of the Sabbats.”

Delia studied her with cool disdain. “You've missed quite a few yourself, Brenna. I guess we're cut from the same mold.”

Brenna's face heated. “Don't lump me in with you. I'm home to stay. How about you?”

Her mother didn't answer and Brenna frowned as her father reached across the table for Delia's hand. They were so caring with each other, but nobody penetrated that little circle.

She turned as Sarah came back into the dining room. Brenna thought her grandmother's shoulders looked weighed down.

Feeling an unexpected surge of affection, Brenna spoke quietly. “Give us a chance to help. Fiona, Eva Grace and I can get the book organized and do some research.”

“First we have to cleanse Eva Grace's shop.” Sarah straightened as she spoke to the group. “In fact, we'll put it all back together. Everything that was destroyed. I think all of us will be needed.”

A collective gasp issued from the group.

“That's not a good idea,” Delia said.

“Of course it is.” Sarah moved to gather more dirty dishes. “Eva Grace has borne enough. We'll clean this up for her and she'll have the shop back to normal in a day or two.”

Delia argued, “But you heard what Aiden said. This could be a demon. Even if it isn't, we know there's residual black magic around. It could affect the spell or one of us.”

Sarah passed the dishes to Marcus and turned back to Delia. “When all of us gather, our magic is stronger than any other.”

Aiden traded a concerned look with Delia. He shook his head.

“We should not do this,” Delia said with force. “Demons are unpredictable. According to our research—”

“There's that word again,” Brenna muttered, though she was amazed to see her mother and grandmother argue. They had never raised their voices to each other in her presence.

“I think you need to reconsider, Mother.”

Brenna was astonished. Delia always called Sarah by her given name. Calling her “Mother” made this a red-letter day.

“We'll be gathering just after moonrise tonight, Delia, to give Eva Grace our help,” Sarah said blandly. “If you can't make it, we'll understand. You missed other events, and we were still successful.”

Brenna's eyes widened as Sarah's barb hit home. Delia looked like she'd been smacked. Aiden rose and put his arm around his wife's shoulders.

Sarah sailed out of the room, dirty dishes in hand and head held high.

“How do we kill demons?” Lauren murmured.

Once again Maggie began to sob.

Brenna groaned. She had a terrible feeling her mother was right about the folly of Sarah's plan. What's worse, she knew Willow had spoken the truth to all of them. Brenna held the future of her family in her hands. From where she sat, with no clue how to stop the curse, that was more frightening than an army of demons.

Chapter Seventeen

On Tuesday, as night fell over New Mourne, Jake waited for all of the Connelly witches to gather at Eva Grace's shop.

“I'm definitely not sure about this.” He and Brenna were standing in the front room, watching through the window for Maggie. She was the only witch who had not arrived.

Brenna had told him about Willow's visit and the argument between Sarah and Delia last night. “I'm not even sure Maggie will show up,” she murmured. “She and Lauren have taken my mother's side in the argument against this ritual tonight. They're scared to death by all of the demon talk.”

“How is everyone else aligning?” Jake glanced over his shoulder. Lauren was huddled with Delia and Dr. Burns. Sarah, Doris and Frances were on the other side of the room. The other women were in the middle, looking like a bunch of jittery hens.

“This is really getting to Fiona.” Brenna nodded toward her sister, who was staring down at her iPhone, her eyes red-rimmed and glazed, as if she had not slept at all. “She desperately wants to believe in our parents, but she's so loyal to Sarah. She spent most of the day trying to find the ghost who used to live in this shop.”

“So the ghost still missing?”

“Fiona says all the town's ghosts are very quiet.” Brenna shivered. “That's not normal.”

“Eva Grace seems calm.” Jake frowned. He wasn't sure the redhead's cool demeanor was a good thing.

Brenna echoed his thoughts with her troubled sigh. “She thinks the Woman in White is coming for her. She's so resigned to that, that she won't even discuss it with me and Fiona. She says there's no point in more research because the inevitable will happen.”

Anger flashed in Brenna's eyes. “It infuriates me that she's being worn down by this. The elder aunts and Sarah told us last night that their sister Rose was like that before the Woman took her. Just hopeless and lost.”

“Was Eva Grace's mother like that before she died, too?” Jake was concerned as he studied Eva Grace's serene features. She didn't look quite like herself.

Shrugging, Brenna looked back out the window. “They wouldn't talk much about it today. Sarah was holed up in her room with
The Connelly Book of Magic
. I offered to help her with tonight's spell, but she told me she is still the one in power.”

“She feels threatened by what Willow told you all last night.” Jake ran a hand through his hair, weary to the bone. He wished this nightmare was over, that the demon or the Woman, or both, were defeated. Would he and Brenna ever get to go back to the place they were last night?

It seemed like weeks instead of hours since he had made love to her. Although the sensible thing would be to let the attraction between them die, he couldn't stop thinking about how she had felt in his arms, how her magic had rained down on them like a warm, spring shower. Throughout the horror of last night and today, he had drawn comfort from that memory.

Sandy's death had shaken him. She'd been young and innocent. Notifying her parents early this morning was awful. Why kill her or Garth? Why torture the entire town? He wanted all of this to end.

But if history was borne out, the only possible end was the death of one of the Connellys.

Brenna could be the one chosen to die.

Fear rose in Jake, tightening his chest. After the way he grew up, after all he had done and seen as a man and as a tiger, he wasn't often afraid. The thought of Brenna's life ending in such a senseless way brought real fear. He didn't expect that emotion and was glad to see Maggie coming up the walk.

The young witch seemed distracted as Jake opened the door. Her auburn hair, long like Lauren's, was usually arranged in a conservative style. Tonight, she had drawn it back in a severe bun.

Her clothes were all wrong, too, Jake realized. The thermometer topped out in the nineties today, but Maggie wore a black turtleneck and dark jeans that molded to her body. He guessed she might be dressing for dramatic effect. Lauren certainly had, in a form-fitting dark purple dress with sparkles on the bodice. He thought the rest of the witches, in their sensible pantsuits, and jeans and T-shirts were attired more suitably for the mess that surrounded them.

“I was afraid you'd decide not to come,” Brenna said to Maggie as she and Jake followed her to the center of the store where the others were gathered.

“I thought about it,” Maggie replied. “But I realized that Sarah is right. We have to put Eva Grace's shop back in order. It's the first step in getting all of this over and done.”

Brenna studied her younger cousin with surprise.

Sarah greeted Maggie with a smile and kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for believing in me, my dear.”

Jake stepped back as Dr. Burns and Marcus joined him.

“Are we ready?” Sarah stood at the bottom of the shop's staircase, her long, gray hair loose around her shoulders. She seemed to glow, her skin and eyes luminous. At her signal, one of Brenna's aunts turned out the lights. In the twilight gloom, the faces of all of the women were shadowed as they formed a loose circle around Sarah.

Jake believed in the Connellys' magic, but he doubted they could affect the mess here with a little abracadabra. He'd been in the store most of the night and day, helping process the scene. The place was a ruin of shattered glass, pottery, stone and wood.

The state's crime scene investigators were finished; although Jake didn't believe what they gathered would prove useful. The local guys thought Sandy's death was just like Garth's—a supernatural murder. Hours after the young woman died, they had recorded a number of the “hot spots” Brenna's father suggested they look for.

Aiden was more convinced than ever that a demon was involved with what was happening in the town. Earlier today, he had studied the graffiti on the Dollar General Store's wall, as well as Mary's Diner where the werewolf had appeared without a full moon. The researcher called both places “proof of demonic malevolence.”

Jake called it damn scary.

Now, Dr. Burns tried once more to reason with Sarah. “I wish you would think about this a little more. Consider the level of evil that is still in this shop.”

Sarah made an impatient gesture.

Delia took up the argument. “You can smell the sulfur in the air. Surely you know what that means.”

“Is that the rotten egg smell?” Brenna asked. “That stink has overtaken the herbs and oils that were spilled everywhere last night.”

“Sulfur is the classic demonic calling card,” her father answered. “Sarah, again, I caution you—”

“Be still,” the coven leader said with unexpected sharpness. “All of you men need to step back against the door.”

Jake caught Brenna's gaze and tried to nod in encouragement as he, Marcus and Dr. Burns moved to the entrance. The truth was he wanted to grab her hand and haul her out of here.

Sarah leaned down and lifted a thin wooden box.

“What's that?” Jake murmured to Marcus.

“The family wand.” His voice held a note of awe. “It's made of Irish bog oak and was crafted more than three centuries ago. A Connelly witch went out after lightning struck the tree and took a broken limb while it was still warm. Thunderstorms are rare in Ireland, so this was a significant event. It took her months to craft the wand and imbue it with power.”

Sarah carefully lifted the wand out of the box and gripped it firmly.

“I can smell the magic from here, kind of hot and sweet,” Jake said. “Amazing.”

The wand tapered like a candle, the wood black with a beautiful grain. When Sarah lifted and swept the wand through the air, the wood pulsated. She stepped into the center of the circle.

“Join hands.” Her shoulders straight, Sarah reminded Jake of one of his colonels. Like him, she wore the mantle of leadership well.

The women twittered. That was the only word Jake could put to the soft sound of their excitement. He could feel their exhilaration and something else, something that smelled just a little off, like wet ashes. The hot spots the forensic techs had marked had cooled, but were still warmer than the rest of the room. He thought Dr. Burns was right to have warned Sarah to stop, but it was too late now.

Sarah's wand slashed through the darkened air. The women's murmurs faded. Jake watched as each witch centered herself. Brenna closed her eyes, and he could see that she gripped Doris's and Maggie's hands.

Sarah let her head drop to her chest. When there was silence, she raised her head and looked at each witch in turn, her gaze steady and strong.

Jake felt power stir the air.

Sarah's voice rang clear as a bell. “What once was whole now is shattered; what once was ordered is now scattered.”

She raised the wand. The end glowed in a small circle that grew with each word she spoke. “We gather our power, full and free, to bring back together piles of debris.”

She swept the wand in a wide arc and light bloomed from its tip.

“As we will, so mote it be.”

A whoosh of light swept out of the wand and around the room. Glass began to rise in small circles and pieces began to assemble into crystals, candelabras, mortars and pestles. Soon items were lining the shelves and filling various racks. Jake watched in stunned silence as the store reassembled itself.

He glanced at Brenna and his heart skipped a beat. She was breathtaking, her arms raised as she clasped the hands of the witches on either side of her. Her body glistened, much like the magic that had fallen like silver dust over his bed last night. His body responded to her with a primal heat that tightened his jeans. When she smiled, he thought he would explode with wanting her.

The women continued to chant and Sarah held the wand up. Light poured out of it like liquid fire. As the chant rose, the room worked to right itself and the store began to look again like the homey, welcoming place it had been. The floor cleared of trash, and crystals sparkled from the strings that once more tied them to the ceiling.

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