Frog Hollow (Witches of Sanctuary Book 1) (16 page)

Chapter 14

A LIE BREAKS ALL

Sera performs magic with the same ease I might write my name on a sheet of paper. Where I am clumsy and insecure, she is elegant and confident. She makes it seem so simple, even though I know it has taken her years to master her skills. Still, I stand in the background oozing with envy as she peers down at the waiting victim in front of her.

Julien trembles, the first sign his nerves aren’t made of steel. Sera’s finger slides up the bridge of his nose as she begins to whisper words about ancient truths and unconscious desires. His eyes slowly close, as if her words lull him to sleep. His head droops over until she pulls her touch away, and I jump back, frightened by how easily he awakes from his slumber. I assume the spell hasn’t worked, that he will burst out laughing any second, until I see the dazed look in his eyes. I step forward, bending down to look at him. “Julien?”

A sheepish smile crosses his face. “Wilhelmina?”

I glance up at Sera, ignoring the pounding in my chest. Why did something as simple as the way he says my name make my breath hitch?

Sera glances at me. “Would you like me to start?”

“Please?”

She smiles simply and pulls up a seat. She says his name quietly, and his smile fades at the same time his spine shoots straight. “Yes?”

“Did you come to Frog Hollow earlier tonight?” Sera sounds different. I can hear the power in her words. “Are you the person Wilhelmina saw outside her window?”

Chills run down my spine as I anxiously await his answer. When he speaks, he looks directly at me. “No. I was not.”

“What’s your alibi?” Sera’s tone forces his attention back to her.

“I was at home with my grandmother. I called Willa after dinner, several times, actually, but she didn’t answer.”

Sera sighs down at the floor. “There was someone here tonight, Julien. Do you know who it could have been?”

“No, ma’am. My grandmother restricts my contact with everyone.”

Sera tightens her lips, her eyes narrowing in concentration. “Have you talked about Willa to anyone else?”

“No. I’m not allowed to have friends. I don’t have anyone else to tell.”

Sera looks at me, and it’s sad.

“If I transform, my grandmother wants to make sure—” His words falter, and he grits his teeth. “My grandmother wants to make sure she is my victim.”

“Why put Wilhelmina at risk?” she asks with a harsh edge.

“I would never hurt Willa, not intentionally,” he says softly, his head dropping in shame. “I just wanted to be friends. I didn’t expect it to be more than that.”

I bite my lip and turn away. Sera touches my arm, and when I look back at her, tears glisten my eyes. It’s a weakness. I realize that now. My heart is a lot softer than I assumed after years of neglect.

“I’m going to leave you alone now.” Sera stands and allows herself to relax. “I’m going outside to talk this revelation over with the others, to form a plan on how we are going to keep you safe until we figure this out.”

I spin around, suddenly nervous. “You can’t go.” I panic and hold my hand out to her. “I don’t know how to break the spell.” Mostly I don’t trust myself to be alone with him, but I’m not willing to admit it.

She grins reassuringly at me. “Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart. All you have to do is lie to him.”

I whine as she turns to leave, because I know I’m screwed. I let out a shaky breath, sneaking a glance at Julien. “We’re alone,” I squeak.

He smiles wryly. “We’re alone.”

I shift into Sera’s vacant seat, jiggling my arms out to my side to shake loose my own insecurity. The longer I wait, the bigger his smile becomes.

“Nervous?”

I scowl at his hazy eyes. “I’m asking the questions.”

I throw my damp hair over my shoulder, prepared to make my own offensive attack. I have a list of things I need answered, and I’m not going to let that wounded look on his face distract me. “I want to know why this happened, the truth. I’m not talking about just tonight. Why did you show up at my tent that day?”

“I told you,” he says frankly. “After I saw you on the street, I couldn’t help myself. I was curious.”

“Why did you ask me out?”

“Besides you’re beautiful?” He laughs once, crossing his hand in front of me. “I live in a town where my last name alone turns people away from me. I walk into a store, and people give me a wide berth, afraid of what I might do. You were different. You didn’t judge me.”

“I didn’t know you.”

“You trusted me.”

“I shouldn’t have.”

“I only wanted to help you. I was afraid, Willa. I was afraid if you knew the truth, you’d turn into one of them. I didn’t want to lose you. All I wanted was a friend.”

“It wasn’t friendship you were offering at my house the other night.”

Julien nods, a confirmation. “Everything happened too fast. You woke up a side of me that night, Wilhelmina, that has been deprived too long. I let my guard down for you, and I realize now I should have told you everything.”

“Here’s your chance,” I sputter. “Tell me everything now, because it’s the last one you’re going to get from me.”

He clears his throat, his eyes closing as if he’s in pain. “I’m one of the Haunted. There is a side of me that is consumed by lust, that seeks violence and wants nothing more than to bring pain to the ones I love most. Even though I have complete control of myself right now, when my father dies, your Julien will die with him. There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t think about it—that someone doesn’t remind me. I’ll never forgive myself for putting you at risk. It wasn’t my intention. You were the first ray of sunshine in a life that has been nothing but darkness and loneliness.”

It wouldn’t hurt so badly if I didn’t understand. If I hadn’t spent my childhood alone, hiding from the judgmental eyes that followed my every step. All I ever wanted was acceptance, one friend in the world who knew the real me and would love me anyway. How could I ever condemn Julien for the same dream?

I smother a sigh and slump down in my seat. This hadn’t gone at all how I planned.

“Julien, if your father died tonight, who would be your victim?”

His jaw clenches, and he looks away. “You.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I felt it that evening on the street when you were drunk. You chose Reid over me. I was distraught, and my control slipped. I’m sorry, Wilhelmina.”

“Never apologize for caring about me.” I reach forward, placing my fingers against his swollen lip, prepared to ease his pain, but he grabs my hand.

“Don’t.”

“You’re in pain.”

He gently squeezes my hand. “I deserve it.”

“You’re right. You do.”

The lie feels vile on my lips, so much so that I want to spit it out so the words can never be uttered again. No one deserves to live the lonely existence we’ve had to endure.

The shadows fade from Julien’s eyes, returning them to life, leaving him confused and disoriented. He rubs his hand over his face, holding his head in a way that suggests he’s trying to keep his thoughts from escaping. “What happened?”

“We have an understanding.”

He’s baffled by my words, but second by second, his memories start to reform, and comprehension finally finds him. He smiles. “You care too.”

I quickly place my fingers over his lips, urging him to keep his words to himself. “I can’t begin to deal with my feelings about you right now. It’s too much. You were right before. We happened too fast, and my life is too chaotic to make it work right now.”

“You care about me,” he repeats, a smile curving his lips. “You know everything, and you still care about me.”

I weaken under his hold, giving in to the exhaustion I feel both physically and mentally. “There was someone here tonight, Julien, and it wasn’t you.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he says. “Together. All I ever wanted to do was help you. Let me.” 

“One condition.” Julien waits for me to continue. “You have to tell your grandmother the truth.”

“Understandable,” he says with a nod. “What about Reid?”

“You being nice to him wouldn’t hurt either.”

Julien snorts. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh,” I whisper, realizing his intention. “We’re friends now. We have an understanding too.”

Julien eyes me suspiciously. “Friends? I thought we were being honest tonight.”

I step away from him, squaring my shoulders. “What are you trying to say?”

“Yeah, Julien. What are you trying to say?” A voice echoes from around the corner, and Reid walks into the room.

“I think you know,” Julien drawls, his French accent leaking back into his voice. “It’s not like you’re subtle about it.”

Reid steps closer, his broad arms crossing over his chest. “Neither are you. Difference is—I won’t kill her for it one day.”

The tension starts to escalate out of control. “Help!” I yell, calling for reinforcements. Luckily, Zeke and Abby followed Reid inside and hold him back.

I turn on Julien, pulling his shirt until he looks down at me. “If you can’t tolerate him, you can’t help me.”

“We don’t need you.” Reid jerks himself free of Zeke and Abby’s hold. “Just because you’re innocent this time doesn’t mean I trust you.”

Julien vibrates with anger, but he manages to hold it all in. “You need me, whether you want to admit it yet or not.”

“He’s right, Reid,” Abby says. “We do need him.”

“Willa is going to need twenty-four hour supervision,” Zeke chimes in, offering a voice of reason. “And I’m the only one without a job, but I can’t protect her without help. I’m not strong enough anymore.”

Julien looks gratefully at Zeke, smiling. “I can manage the bank from the convenience of the bookstore. It’s two blocks down the street.”

Reid isn’t happy, but I can see his reluctance fading. “And if your father dies, and you turn on her—what then?”

“She has my full permission to put me out of my misery.” He turns to me, his eyes expectant. “Promise me. Look me in the eye and promise you’ll kill me.”

“I-I—”

“You’ll be doing him a favor, Wilhelmina,” Zeke adds. “Trust me.”

I open my mouth, but I can’t speak.

“Say it, or no deal,” Reid says.

“Yes,” I manage to stammer. “I promise.”

Julien gives me a slight smile. A silent thank you. He turns back to Reid. “Happy?”

“We’ll see.”

I walk over and hug Reid for putting not only my safety, but my happiness first. He accepts it easily, though I can still feel the bitterness in his touch. “A thank you would be nice,” he says, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

“Thank—” I start, but Reid’s lips cut me off.

It’s not brief. It’s not sweet, and yet it leaves me breathless. Fire and electricity. It’s all there, pulling me under. I’m drowning in him. Happily so.

His lips spark a fire in my chest, and I absently ball his shirt in my fingers. He tilts my head back, cupping my chin, and his tongue finds mine.

Damn. Reid.

Who knew?

I’m not sure how much times passes before his lips slow and his touch becomes tender again. He brushes his lips against mine one last time. Quick. Perfect.

He releases me, and I manage to catch my balance. I’m still gaping at him like a crazy person, though. And there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

I glance over at Julien. He’s gone.

I look back up at Reid, and he shrugs, unapologetic. In fact, he smiles a little. “He shouldn’t have asked you about me if he didn’t want to know the answer.”

I stand there, baffled.

Zeke’s laughter rings in the background. “This is going to be fun,” he says cheerfully. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Chapter 15

STRETCHING MAGICAL MUSCLES

Even though I have a bodyguard with me at all times, the following days are intense. I constantly look over my shoulder and foresee danger around every corner. The eyes of every stranger appear speculative. Dangerous.

A lot of strangers walk by my store window. All of them nosy. All of them stopping by to see who is with me.

If it weren’t for Zeke distracting me with my favorite yummy treats from the bakery and hilarious old stories about how Reid got his braces stuck in a caramel apple, I would have lost my mind and probably spoken it a few times to the people who stared too long.

I don’t know how Zeke and Julien managed to deal with this their entire life. I expect a news helicopter to start circling the bookstore any day.

Julien has been quiet since the K. I. S. S. incident. In fact, the entire family has been walking on eggshells every time Julien or Reid enters the room. They are waiting for something to happen. Nothing does. It’s just awkward. Especially for me.

On the rare occasion Julien and I are alone, he takes extra effort to keep our conversations very vanilla. We talk about the weather, the town, and everything else that makes my eyes want to roll back in my head from boredom.

It’s getting old. Quick.

After surviving the daylight hours with a comical Zeke or a solemn Julien, I usually spend my afternoons with the girls or Sera while I continue my training. Today breaks the monotony of our routine. Sadie is intent on forcing Zeke to go watch a movie she heard him mention, and Julien can’t get off work until five. So I’m spending the day at home with Abby, practicing before she has to leave to help Zeke’s mother with cotillion preparations.

In fact, she somehow guilted Reid into helping set up tables for the dinner party. According to Mrs. Prescott, two weeks isn’t enough time to throw together the biggest party of the year, and all available hands are needed, murderous stalker be damned. I suspect the curse word was Reid’s addition to the explanation.

Abby stands next to me in the back yard, watching as I try to break bricks before she leaves for her afternoon of not-so-much fun. She’s been eyeing me for a good ten minutes, and I know it isn’t due to my sub-par skills. She has something on her mind, and I’m positive I’m not going to like it.

“So—” she says in one long gust.

I smile but don’t look at her.

I knew it.

“Go ahead, Abby.” I laugh, turning toward her. “Whatever it is, just go ahead and say it. You don’t have all day to stand here.”

She purses her lips, and I realize I’ve never seen Abby quite this serious. “My brother,” she says finally. “Are we going to talk about what happened between you and Reid? It’s been a week.”

I shrug. “What is there to talk about?”

“He kissed you, Willa.”

“Trust me—I’m aware of that.”

Every time I close my eyes, I’m aware of it. I can still feel it. His hand gripped in the shirt at my back with the other under my chin. I feel it all. I relive it all.

“Well, it’s been a week!”

I squint at her, confused. “So?”

“You two have barely spoken to each other. Are you going to talk about it? Are we supposed to act like it didn’t happen?”

Again, I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I need to know,” she says, exasperated. “I mean, this is a huge deal. Reid doesn’t go around kissing girls. He put himself out there. Honestly, I never thought he was capable of something like that.”

I smile. “I think you underestimate him.”

“Apparently. You bring out a completely different side of him. Did you see that right hook he gave Julien?”

I focus my attention back on the bricks. “I really hope that was a rhetorical question.”

She steps closer, her hand touching my shoulder. I look back, and she is suddenly very serious again. “He has feelings for you.”

I bite my lip, but my stomach twinges anyway. It’s not butterflies.

Okay, that’s a lie.

It’s totally butterflies.

“What do you want me to say here, Abby?”

“I want you to say you won’t break his heart.”

My lips part. Stunned.

“I’m not telling you to choose between him and Julien,” she adds quickly. “I just need to know if he has a chance. If some part of you, even if it’s a small part, has feelings for him too.”

“Hey!” a voice calls in the distance.

We both turn as Reid comes around the corner. I grab her hand and squeeze. It’s completely involuntary, but I can’t stop myself.

Ratty gym shorts, a heavily torn t-shirt, and a stupid Braves hat shouldn’t garner such a reaction. Except, on Reid, it does.

His bronze hair peeks around the edges of the hat, his perfect abs visible in the gaping holes of the shirt, and more importantly, he’s smiling.

That smile is deadly. No wonder he doesn’t use it often.

I look at Abby, and she smirks. She knows.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Question answered.”

She trots off, patting Reid on the shoulder as she goes by. “I expect to see you at the courthouse later,” she says. “But it’ll be okay if you’re late.”

Then she winks at him.

Telling her was a bad idea.

“I’ll be there,” he assures her, confused by her sudden mega-watt smile.

When she leaves, he turns to me. “What’s up with her?”

I shrug, whipping around so he can’t see the guilt on my face. I stare at the bricks, trying to remember what I was doing, but then I feel him behind me. His chest brushes my shoulder. His voice is soft but amused. “Were you talking about me?”

I don’t respond.

He scoots closer. “Willa.”

I shudder.

“You have a good sister,” I say, refusing to turn around.

“You
were
talking about me.”

He says it as a fact, his voice suddenly rough. I don’t dare move, or he’ll see it written on my face too.

He wraps his arms around my shoulders, and I lean back against him. It’s comforting, and without an ounce of effort, I relax. “This doesn’t have to be complicated,” he says, but then I feel him smile into my hair. “But I know better than to hope for that.”

I try to turn, but he holds me in place. “We can wait, because I have all the time in the world. Just remember that.
I have time
.”

He steps back, and when I look around, I catch something on his face. Something that scares me. No. It thrills me.

He has time. I bring myself back to reality. Julien does not.

“So what are you practicing today?”

I blink a couple times, trying to regain my sense of awareness. “What?”

He grins, pointing at the bricks. “What are you trying to do to the bricks, exactly?”

I look at the bricks and then back to him. “Oh. Um. Well,” I take a second to breathe out the idiot rambling inside of me and try again, “I’m trying to break them.”

“Ah.” He nods, walking over to sit down on the picnic table. “Let’s see.”

He sits there, his elbows resting on his knees, expectant, like I didn’t just realize I have feelings for him too. Deep to my core kind of feelings.

“Wilhelmina?”

I shake myself mentally, like a dog after a bath, forcing the emotions out of my head. I turn back to the bricks. They look less appealing. I don’t speak and definitely don’t look at him again.

I spend the next ten minutes punching my fist into the air, only to watch the bricks flip and tumble across the yard, still completely intact. My concentration is off.

“You’re trying too hard.”

“I thought that was the point,” I say, annoyed with myself.

He gets up from his perch and walks closer, as if that is going to help my ability to think clearly.

“I meant physically.” He imitates how I punch the air with my hands. “Your power is a mental thing. You should exert your energy through your mind, not your fist.”

I make a disgusted face, because it sounds completely rational. “How would you know?”

He shrugs. “My grandmother never lifted a finger to do anything, but then again, she was eighty-five.”

I huff, glancing back and forth between him and the bricks.

“But what do I know? Keep trying it your way.” Again, he mocks my karate moves.

My eyes narrow. “I guess it’s worth a shot.”

I focus my annoyance at my prey, but as I am about to muster up the energy, Reid grabs my wrists and holds them firmly at my sides. “No hands this time,” he says, pressing his chest against my back. “Heaven forbid you’re ever captured, but the skill could come in handy in an emergency.”

I really, really hate when he is rational. Especially when his rationality is melded all up against me.

“Okay.” I squint menacingly at the bricks.

Focus on the bricks.

His breath hits my neck, and suddenly my power bubbles inside me, practically begging to be released, but I don’t know how without the help of physical movement.

“Concentrate.”

“Okay, Dr. Phil,” I hiss, and that’s when it happens, the electricity hits us again. It’s different from that day in the parking lot. It’s much more powerful this time. The shock originates from somewhere inside me, traveling down through my arms, coming to an exploding climax at the point where his bare skin touches mine. He lets go of me, stumbling backward. I fall to the ground, clutching my hands beneath me in an attempt to stop the stinging.

“Sparky!”

“That was all you,” he says, still wincing and shaking his hands in the air like they are on fire. “You keep bottling it up, and it’s eventually going to force its way out.”

“I can’t stop when I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” I yell. “I’m just not strong enough to do this on my own.” I grab for the moon pendent around my neck and yank at it.

Reid catches the gesture and rolls his eyes. “You
can
do this,” he says, pulling my hand away from the necklace. “You’re just being stubborn, as usual.”

I frown at him, but he is already laughing at me. “You don’t need anyone else to help you break a couple bricks, Willa. You hoisted two grown men in the air and placed a grip so tight on me that I could barely breathe. You have all the power you need. You only lack the concentration and willpower to apply it without your emotions flaring up.”

“You don’t know how hard it is to hold it in and then let it go while it’s fighting you every step of the way,” I mutter. “You just don’t understand.”

My face contorts in a grimace as I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth.

He snorts, looking away from me. “You’re right. I don’t know.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Being normal doesn’t hurt my feelings,” he says with a snarky edge. “But don’t worry, there will be another ceremony after the summer solstice, and I’m sure you’ll find your sun. I just don’t want you to be disappointed when you realize that even with your other half, you’re still weak.”

I grit my teeth at him, fuming.

“What? Are you going to object to that? Are you going to admit you aren’t the weakling you let yourself believe?”

My anger burns through me, setting every inch of my skin on fire.

“Come on,” he pushes. “You love to contradict me.”

“Stop it, Reid,” I growl. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Then do it,” he challenges. “Use your power without me having to piss you off to accomplish anything. Because, honestly, I really hate pissing you off.”

I practically scream my frustration at him. The wind whistles around me, and Reid steps up into my face. “No. You’re letting it run freely out of you. Focus it.”

I’m shaking now, not because of my anger, but due to the power retracting itself around me. The wind stops, and slowly it builds up inside me. “Channel it,” he says. “Break the bricks.”

I whimper, glancing over my shoulder at the bricks. I raise my hand, and the power surges into my fingertips. Reid catches my hand between us. “No hands,” he reminds, causing me to squint my eyes shut as the power sinks back inside me.

Internal combustion feels like a totally viable option right now. My muscles clench, my hands balling into fists, and I let the vision of the bricks behind me fill my mind. A loud cracking sound fills the air, followed by a resounding pop, and the energy inside me slowly disperses. Reid loosens his grip on my hands, and I turn around to see all three bricks scattered into pieces across the back yard.

I’m panting, completely out of breath as if I’ve just run five miles. I stare at the broken pieces of brick in awe. “I did it.”

Reid grins smugly. “I told you that you didn’t need anyone else.”