Charmed and Dangerous: An Appalachian Magic Novel (Appalachian Magic Series Book 1) (7 page)

James gave his best attempt at a smile. “Do you always bring the rain with you? It’s like the day we met.”

“I think
you’re
the one causing the rain. We really need to talk about that. Not now though.” She reached behind her and picked up a blanket. “Cold?”

“Freezing.”

Callie bent, about to pull the blanket on him, when she suddenly stilled, and her eyes widened.

“You’re bleeding! There’s so much blood, it soaked through your jacket and spilled on the ground. What happened?”

It all came back to him. The fight with the immortal and the energy transferred from the sword. Andrew’s weapon must have packed extra power because he used it so many years in battle.

Callie lifted the side of his jacket and then his shirt. “I don’t see a wound. Where did the blood come from?” She sounded puzzled and relieved at the same time.

Uh, oh. This would take some explaining. He couldn’t tell her the truth—that he was an immortal, and all injuries quickly self-healed. But his brain was too tired to come up with a rational explanation, so he kept silent.

“What’s this?” She lifted the fallen broadsword by his feet and examined its bloody blade. “You were attacked.”

James grimaced. “It’s my sword. I tripped and fell on it.”

She clamped her lips together but didn’t challenge the lame story. Callie dropped a warm, thick blanket on top of his shivering body. “My car isn’t far but you’re too weak to make it there.” She reached in her jacket and pulled out a cell phone. “Should I call your dad or an ambulance first?”

“No ambulance!” Doctors would order all kinds of lab tests. No telling what kind of freak show that would turn into.

“Okay. Give me your dad’s number.” Her hand poised over the number pad.

“Just give me a minute, and I’ll be able to walk to the car.” Already the warmth of the blanket and being with Callie was working its magic. The rain stopped, and the dark clouds washed away with the dying wind.

“
I
can make it now
.” James rose to his feet and swayed a bit.

Callie put out a hand to help steady him, but he pushed it away and wobbled forward a few steps. “I’ve got it.”

“You sure?” Stupid male ego. What seemed a short distance when she ran across the field earlier now seemed to stretch for miles. “The ground’s not too wet; I’ll drive my car over and get you.”

“I won’t argue with that,” he agreed.

Callie took off at a run. When she got in her car, she turned the heater on full blast. No telling how long he’d been lying unconscious in the cold. She peeled out from the road and straight into the field. A few feet from James, Callie jerked the steering wheel in a sharp turn so the passenger door was directly in front of him.

“Get in,” she said, unlatching the door from inside.

James fell in the seat in an ungraceful heap. “The heat feels amazing.” He leaned back, eyes closed. “Thanks, Callie.” He didn’t open his eyes as she sped across the bumpy field. “Hope this doesn’t tear up your car’s shocks. It’s so old, they’ve got to be about spent.”

“My car’s the last thing I’m worried about right now. Should I take you to your house? Is your dad home? I don’t mind driving you to the hospital—.”

“—All I need is a little rest.”

Callie tried to think of a tactful way to discover the truth. “I don’t mean to pry, but are you epileptic? Did you have a seizure that made you fall?”

“No.” He kept his eyes shut and didn’t volunteer any more information.

“Diabetic?”

“No.”

Callie’s fingers tap-danced on the steering wheel. “Looks like you lost a lot of blood back there.”

“Uh huh.”

“Blood’s all over your jacket, shirt, and that scary sword. But I didn’t see any kind of cut or other injury.”

“I have no explanation for that.”

“Seems pretty strange.”

“Maybe it’s strange you suddenly appeared out of nowhere.” He pinned her with his gaze. “Matter of fact, you
knew
I was out there. You were calling my name before you found me.”

Callie kept her eyes on the road. “I have no explanation for that,” she said, repeating his words back to him.
Two can play that game.

By the time she reached his house, the silence between them was awkward.

“Thanks again,” James said, reaching for the door handle.

Callie sprang out and hurried to the passenger side.

“I don’t need any help.” There was a definite edge of irritation in his voice.

“Humor me. I’ll walk with you to the door.”

James rolled his eyes and stepped past her, the sword dangling in one hand by his side. He wasn’t unsteady now, but he moved slowly as if exhausted.

At the porch, he turned and cupped her face in his hands. “I don’t know what to make of you.” His smile was rueful.

“Ditto,” she said in a husky voice. She reached around his neck and hugged him, so relieved he was okay.

He gently pushed her away, holding her at arm’s length.

“Don’t you want my phone number? Every time we meet, I don’t know if I’ll see you again outside of class.”

He laughed and touched her nose. “Oh, you definitely will.”

The door opened, and she jumped.

“Excuse me. I was on my way out.” James’s father jiggled his truck keys.

“Hello, Mr. MacLauren.”

He nodded but didn’t return her smile. “James, I’ve got a pot roast in the oven and . . . What’s wrong with you?” Carter frowned and looked from James’s pale face to the sword at his side.

“Tell you about it later.” Father and son exchanged a guarded look. “Callie found me and drove me home.”

“How convenient.” Carter studied her and rubbed his chin. “You just happened to be in the area?”

It sounded like an accusation. “Yes, sir.” She stared down at her feet hoping he wouldn’t see the guilty flush.

“I reckon you better tell me about it now,” Carter said to James, heading back inside.

“Your dad still doesn’t like me,” she observed.

James laughed but didn’t deny it. “Does it matter?’

“Guess not.” She barely knew the man, and James didn’t seem to care.

She drove home with more questions than when she’d left. But at least she knew he was safe. That was a start.

T
he high priestess
raised her wand in her right hand and pointed to the moon. As one, the white-robed coven members raised their wands.

A tingling bolt of lunar energy entered Callie’s wand and traveled from her fingertips up her arm. She pointed the wand to her heart, and a silver-blue pulsing encircled her body in a halo effect. Light-headed, she glanced at the others. No doubt they were used to these group rituals, but she and Aunt Mallory never raised this kind of vibration in their solitary work. She was at one with the earth, a part of each moonbeam, tree, and stone.

They had met tonight in the usual place in deep woods by a sacred, old oak tree. In the small clearing, they joined hands and cast their magic circle. In the center was their altar—a wide tree stump ringed with white and silver candles and a chalice of water. Myrrh, sage, and St. John’s incense burned in the black cauldron and lent a heavy, mystical fragrance to the ritual.

At a sign from the high priestess, they sat upon blankets, facing one another in circle formation.

Skye and Michael sat to her right, Mom and Grandma Jo to her left. Callie smiled in surprise to see Tanner in attendance with his family. Even more unexpected, he was actually behaving in a suitably solemn manner. He caught her stare and winked.

Callie bit back laughter. She’d missed being in community with friends and family. Openly celebrating tonight’s full moon ritual hit home how stifling the solitary practice in Jersey had been.

The high priestess opened the floor. “Josephine Johnson, you may now address your brothers and sisters.”

“Merry meet. I ask we cast a protection spell for my granddaughter.” Grandma Jo pointed at Callie. “We welcome her back home with joy, but we also fear the evil forces that would attack Callie and use her power for their own selfish benefit.”

Callie inwardly winced. What did the coven know about her father? Skye and Michael gaped at her in surprise. She scanned other faces in the circle. Most only registered a desire to help. Tanner raised a questioning eyebrow.

The high priestess stood before her and placed her wand on the top of her head.

The priestess touched a finger under her chin. “If you sense evil brewing, remember this shield is in place for protection. Call on its power as needed.”

She nodded wordlessly and hoped she wouldn’t need it. They moved on with other matters—a healing for an aging relative, a request for wisdom in a job decision, and other day-to-day stuff.

The coven joined hands again and walked widdershins, counterclockwise, from the original casting to close the circle and end the meeting. Laughter filled the night as members ate and drank shortbreads and lemonade.

A
witch
!

James watched the strange ceremony from a treetop, hidden in the night’s darkness. No wonder Callie knew where to find him in the woods. How much did she know about immortals? He doubted she knew his secret since she appeared mystified about his injury.

It sounded like she was in danger, but he hardened his heart. A witch was nothing but trouble. Best to pull back now before it was too late. He had enough problems masking his eternal youth from normal humans. Not to mention dealing with power-hungry immortals searching for death matches. No point taking on a witch who could supernaturally bind him to her for the next few decades. Not even if she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

Carter warned him long and often that witches could ruin a man’s life. Well, maybe not an immortal’s entire lifetime—that never ended—but witches could make an immortal’s time a living hell for as long as their witchy lives lasted.

Once the coven moved to other matters, James climbed down the tree. Although out-of-range for most mortals’ detection, he took his time, careful not to break a limb or cause any noise.

He smiled in wry amusement. Even if they did see him, what could they do? Boil him in a cauldron? He could outrun them. Still, caution and mistrust were ingrained after over a century of living in disguise. And though he only half-believed Carter’s superstitions, best not to take chances when it came to witches.

“
S
o what’s the deal
, Callie? Are you in some kind of danger or have your mom and grandma gone off the deep end?” asked Michael as they sat in his car eating sandwiches from Fat Girls Barbeque.

She stared at her three friends. They evidently had a pow-wow after the coven meeting last night, and today was like an intervention for teen witches with screwed-up families.

“We want to help if we can,” Skye said, downing what had to be at least her third Diet Coke of the day.

Callie considered. Nobody said she had to keep secret about her father and the supposed danger he posed. Confiding in her friends would be a relief.

She stared down at her sandwich, her normally ravenous appetite gone. “I don’t know what you’ve been told about why I lived with my aunt in Jersey.”

“Nothing,” said Tanner.

The other two nodded.

“I always thought my father was dead.”

“Thought? You mean he isn’t?” Skye asked.

“No. He’s alive. I found out last week.”

Tanner whistled. “Wow. That’s a mighty big secret they kept from you.”

“They claimed it was for my own protection.”

“You need protection from your own dad?” Michael took a huge bite of barbeque. Football players, especially linebackers, never lost their appetite.

“Mom left him because she found out he’d become a black magic warlock.” She didn’t mention the dark book of spells in her possession.

Skye cocked her head to one side. “Why is he a danger now, after all these years?”

“He’s waiting for me to turn twenty on the summer solstice.” She hesitated, not wanting to sound conceited.

“Why?” asked Tanner, clueless.

“Callie has special powers.” Skye twisted a purple strand of hair. “She reads auras and stuff.”

Tanner gaped at her, his hand frozen as a fry dripped ketchup in his lap.

Her face flamed. “They think reaching my age of majority and a full initiation in the coven will make me powerful. My dad’s threatened to return that night and make me join his coven.” She shoved a fry around.

“You don’t believe your dad will do that?” Michael asked.

She shrugged.

“I’ve known your mom and Grandma Jo all my life. I could tell last night they’re really afraid,” Michael said.

“But he can’t just take me and make me do whatever he wants,” she pointed out.

“People do mean crap all the time, Callie. Don’t you watch the news?” Tanner grabbed the to-go paper bag, rummaging for something else to eat.

“Maybe you don’t
want
to believe them, Callie.” Michael looked sympathetic.

“Maybe I don’t.” She took a bite of coleslaw. “But it’s possible he’s changed.”

Everyone avoided her eyes and concentrated on their food.

“Of course it’s
possible
.” She heard the doubt in Skye’s voice. “I don’t want to be a downer, but if your dad’s changed, wouldn’t he have bothered to get in touch with you over the last . . . what . . . fourteen . . . fifteen years?”

“He might have a reason.”

They stared at her like she’d lost it.

“Okay, I admit it’s far-fetched, but until I know for sure, I’m not ruling it out. I’m going to find him and make up my own mind.”

Michael put down his drink. “How? Do you even have his address?”

“There are ways to get information.”

“Are you going to do some scrying?” Skye’s eyes blazed in excitement. “Or maybe use the tarot cards? Do you have a crystal ball?”

She laughed. “Actually, I was thinking more in terms of a little detective work on the Internet.”

“Oh.” Skye’s mouth turned down. Michael and Tanner hooted with laughter. She blushed and held her chin up defiantly. “I’m pretty good with the computer. I’ll help you.”

Michael finished his lunch and started backing up the car. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you at school…in case there’s any trouble.”

Callie’s throat tightened. Unexpected acts of kindness always got her.

“Same here, Yankee Girl,” said Tanner.

“Don’t you dare call me a ‘Yankee.’” Her laugh was a little unsteady, but they all pretended not to notice.

They moved on to lighter topics all the way back to school, so by the time she returned to classes, her equilibrium had returned.

At last period class, she walked in seeking James. He was there, looking awesome as usual. But he avoided her eyes as she slid into the desk beside him.

“Hi.” She willed him to meet her gaze.

“Hi.” He fiddled with his pen and didn’t look up.

She opened her notebook and set down her purse with a sigh. Weren’t girls supposed to be the moody ones?

“Happy Monday. Back to work, everyone. Turn in your homework and open your books to page one hundred eighteen.” The professor was his normal, cheerless self.

She tried to focus on the lesson, but James’s nearness made it hard. She brooded through class and gathered her courage. A girl had to do what a girl had to do.

“Class dismissed,” the professor called as the bell rang.

James shot out of his chair and bolted for the door.

Irritation overcame shyness. She followed him to the parking lot and caught up to him before he could get in his car and escape.

“James.”

He went still, and she feared he’d pretend not to hear. He faced her with obvious reluctance.

“What is it?” James crossed his arms and leaned against his car.

She inwardly winced at his bored expression but was determined to grind ahead. “I wondered if you’d like to come to my house tonight to study. Mom and Grandma Jo are both going to be out, so they won’t bother us.”

“No.” He turned and got in the car.

“No?” She was too confused to be angry. One minute he promised to call, the next minute he acted like he couldn’t stand to be near her.

James gunned the engine and backed out without another word or look. She stood alone and stared at the spot where his car had been two seconds ago. What had she done to make him run?

“What’s up, Callie?”

She turned to find her trio of friends. The ghastly moment was that much worse knowing they witnessed James giving her the slip.

“I didn’t know you knew James MacLauren,” Skye said.

She stared at the books in her arms. “I thought I knew him but guess I was wrong.”

“Can’t believe he took off like that.” Michael looked down the road at the rapidly disappearing car. “What a jerk.”

“It’s no big deal, really.” Geez, Michael acted as if she was another little sister, like Skye.

“What did you do to the guy?” Tanner said. “Ask him to marry you and offer to bear him a dozen kids?”

She flipped her hair. “Looks that way, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t feel bad,” said Skye. “He acts stuck up with everybody. Listen, why don’t you come over tonight, and we’ll do some searching on your dad.”

She was grateful for the change of subject. “Thanks. I’ll pump Mom and Grandma Jo for details on his past. I’m not expecting much out of them though.”

“Maybe they’ll surprise you,” Tanner said. “Convince them it’s important to be prepared so you can protect yourself better.”

Skye nudged his side. “You do have half a brain sometimes.”

“I hope Emily Singer appreciates that. Along with my hot body.”

“Good luck with that.” Skye shrugged as if she could care less.

If Callie didn’t know better, she’d buy Skye’s act too.

“
I
’m not having
any luck with Facebook or Twitter,” Skye said later that night as they hung out in Skye’s bedroom.

“Well, we didn’t expect much on those sites. When I asked Mom and Grandma Jo about his work, they were deliberately vague. All I got was this: he has a business degree from Jacksonville State University and they lived in Jacksonville for five years where he was employed as a real estate agent.”

“We should get something from the alumni association at Jacksonville State.”

She drew the faded photograph out of her notebook. “I have a picture of him.”

Skye whipped her head up. “Let me see.” She studied the photo. “A real hottie in his time, I bet. Let me scan it.”

She paced to calm off her nerves while Skye worked.

“I’ll try some free sources first, but we may have to use a site that charges for information.”

“I’ve got some money.” She kept pacing as Skye pounded the keyboard.

“Here’s something.”

She rushed to sit beside Skye.

“This looks like it might be him. What do you think?”

Callie studied the pictures on the screen. Skye put her old photograph of Dad side-by-side with a newer image of businessman Lucas Bradford of Bradford Investment and Realty of Atlanta.

“I think it’s him. You’re brilliant!” She touched the computer image of her father’s face.

“I just Googled ‘Lucas Bradford’ and then went to a website with professional profiles.”

“Can you get his address?”

Skye hit a few more keys. “For a mere $39.95, you can view his full profile and get his current address, telephone number, educational—”

“Stop. I just need to know how to contact him.” She grabbed her purse and pulled two twenties from her wallet. “You got a credit card or something? Here, let’s do this.”