Slightly Spellbound (14 page)

The Unseelie fae whose territory we lived in were trapped behind magical doors. The “minor fae” who were small could slip through and around them, but human-sized fae couldn’t. On Samhain and the winter solstice, the doors to the kingdom of the Unseelie would open, but Bryn’s magic reinforced the seal to keep them closed.

 • • • 

WHEN BRYN WAS prepared to do the spell to assess the seal on the doors between the fae world and ours, I asked him to let me join him as he cast. Bryn’s a good teacher. He writes the spell down, goes over it with me line by line, and tries to show me how to cast it. Unfortunately, I can’t feel anyone’s magic except his. Not even my own. So when it comes to controlling power and putting the right amount into a spell, it doesn’t work out for me. I also can’t separate the fae and the witch magicks on purpose. They tend to unravel when I’m really upset or scared. Luckily, Bryn can draw out the witch magic because it’s perfectly matched to his own. He’s celestial magic. I’m earth magic. Heaven and earth, aren’t they just always paired up?

After my spell-casting attempts led to absolutely nothing, I sat on the grass and watched him do it, enjoying the feel of his magic sliding across my skin.

He shook his head. “I can’t find a tear in the fabric of the spell that’s reinforcing the doors. They seem to be tightly closed. None of the large fae should’ve been able to get through. If the skeletal creature you saw is Unseelie fae, he must have come through before.”

“Or have a talent for crossing at points other than where the doors are.” It was reportedly a rare talent. But I’d met one faery who could do it. Her name was Nixella, and she was child-sized, but deadly.

“Hey,” I said, sucking in a breath as my body felt like someone was twisting my guts in knots. I grabbed my stomach and rolled onto the grass.

Bryn dropped next to me. “What is it?” he asked, putting a hand on me. He hissed in pain. “What’s going on?”

The sensation shifted to my chest, and I couldn’t breathe. It was like my lungs had been popped. I opened my mouth but couldn’t make a sound. Bryn had one hand on his chest and one on my arm.

“Tamara!”

Then as instantly as it had started, the sensation disappeared. I drew in a startled breath. Gasping hard, I lay exhausted, clutching the grass. Bryn leaned over me, concerned.

“I’m okay now.”

“Are you sick, sweetheart?” he asked, running his hands over my ribs and belly.

“No. Something happened. Something magical, I think,” I said, looking around. The buzz from the fae mesh was almost gone, but maybe it had been poisonous. The strange thing was that now that the assault on my guts was done, I felt normal. If I’d been poisoned, shouldn’t I have been getting worse?

“I don’t feel any residual magic,” Bryn said. “There’s no spell on you. Unless I can’t sense it because it was fae magic.”

“Maybe, but it didn’t feel like fae magic or taste like it. Usually I get a honey or fruity flavor in my mouth. And my skin shimmers or tingles.” I took a deep breath, feeling my belly. It was fine. “Whatever it was, if it hit me this hard in the grass it must have been really powerful.”

“What do you mean in the grass?”

I flushed. I hadn’t told Bryn about my increasing connection to nature. “I’ve got earth and fae magic. I usually do well when I’m in the grass or dirt or among the trees, especially lately. What about a hex sent from far away? Vangie said Oatha’s been studying curses.” Oatha had sworn to get back at me, and she certainly didn’t want me helping Vangie.

“Hexes and curses generally need to be cast in close proximity unless someone really powerful is casting them. And that would leave residual magic.”

“Speaking of Vangie, I wonder where she is. Even if Oatha didn’t hex me just now, Vangie was right about her and Beau being dangerous. They tried to kill me in my own kitchen, my favorite room in the house.”

Bryn smiled in spite of everything.

I told him about her father’s will and how they might have a motive to kill her now that she was engaged.

“I’ll look into it.”

“I lost my phone in the woods,” I told Bryn. “Vangie might’ve tried to call me. I need to talk to her,” I said, fingering the sore spot on my cheek where Beau had clocked me.

Bryn examined my face, scowling. “You’re a little swollen where he hit you.”

“It’s much better actually. It throbbed like crazy and felt more puffy before I got caught in the sack.”

“Christ, I’m sick of seeing you covered in blood and bruises. You know, we could just say to hell with this.” He stared at me, and his voice softened. “We could leave, really leave here. I’d take you anywhere . . . show you the world. All you have to do is let me.”

My brows rose. “Run away?”

“That’s not how I’d put it.”

I gave him a stern look.

“You’re not even tempted? I wonder if that fae drug is still in your system,” he said. “Because when I met you, you were more than ready to sidestep—”

“I’ve changed,” I blurted. “And remember how we’re the good guys? The good guys don’t turn tail and run.”

Bryn ran a hand through his hair. “I know all about fighting the good fight. I’ve done it for a long time. But I think many people would say we’ve already done our part. And nearly died doing it.”

“I know,” I said, touching his face.

Long before I’d taken up arms against evil, Bryn had fought the establishment for years as part of the Wizard’s Underground. He seemed to prefer a clandestine approach to fighting bad guys. If we were law enforcement, Bryn would be a spy or an assassin. I’d be on the SWAT team.

I stood. “Let’s go in and call Vangie’s cell.”

We went back inside Bryn’s house, and I waited for him to find Vangie’s cell phone number. I called her, and this time she picked up on the first ring.

“Oh, Tammy Jo, thank goodness! I have to—I’ll be right there, Jackson,” she called. “Tammy Jo?”

“I’m here.”

“Jackson arrived early, and I can’t talk about, you know, magic in front of him,” she hissed in a whisper. “He’s only human, and I decided not to tell him about me being a you-know-what until after we’re married, possibly for a few decades. I have, however, told him my relatives might try to stop our wedding. They might even try to say I was mentally incapacitated. We decided we should get married without delay. I’ll pick you up at two p.m., maid of honor. So we can have our hair done at Johnny’s salon.”

“Vangie—”

“And wear a blue dress for good luck. Jackson likes blue.”

“Listen, I believe you about your stepfamily. They are dangerous.”

“Oh, I know.”

“They attacked me—”

“And you survived! Well done, Tammy Jo! I knew I had the right witch as maid of honor.”

“I’m saying you have to be careful. Maybe you and Jackson should come to Bryn’s house.”

Bryn’s brows shot up.

“It’s fortified,” I said.

“And what a lovely location for the reception. I accept!” With that she hung up before I could say another thing. I shook my head and put the phone back in the cradle. “We should probably try to get some sleep. Big wedding tomorrow.”

Bryn’s expression was more than a little skeptical. The security phone rang. Bryn strode over and picked it up. He listened, his face growing concerned. He hung up.

“What?” I asked.

“We have a visitor at the gate, and he’s here on a matter of life and death.”

15

DOC BARNABY LOOKED dapper. After his wife’s death, he’d been a mess. But since raising her as a zombie using stolen magic from me and accepting that she had to go back into the ground, he’d really pulled himself together. He’d started dating a younger woman, the Widow Potts, who’s sixty-one. His silver hair had been trimmed short and he wore a blazer and bow tie with his jeans.

“Hi,” I said, ushering him into the kitchen.

“It’s nice to see you,” he said, nodding at us with an approving smile. “I’m meeting my lady friend soon. We’re going to have dinner and then play pinochle with some other Duvall seniors.”

“So late?” I exclaimed.

“Sure. None of us sleeps much anymore,” Doc Barnaby said.

“You said something about a matter of life and death?” Bryn asked.

“Well, death and afterlife apparently,” Doc Barnaby said, accepting a slice of cake and cup of coffee. “I came to talk with you about Abner.”

“Abner?” I asked.

“Abner Gillicutty. A town ghost. Don’t you know him?” he asked, surprised.

“No. I only see the ghost of my aunt Edie.”

“Well, since Halloween, the Widow Potts and I see a fair number of ghosts. Or we did. They’re dwindling. And Abner ranted about some livestock that’s been abducted, as he puts it. He’s fearful that the dark witches who’ve come to town plan to slaughter the missing animals. Abner’s quite attached to some of them. He was about to tell me where the animals had been taken when he disappeared. One moment he was shaking his phantom fists, the next, poof. Haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

Bryn and I exchanged glances.

“I would have talked to the police, but you see the difficulty . . .” he said, trailing off.

“No, you did the right thing. We’re the ones to tell about bad witches,” I said.

“This cake is delicious, Tammy Jo. Really tasty. I’m sorry my lady friend isn’t with me. I’m sure she would’ve enjoyed it.”

I strode to the fridge and took out a caramel apple torte. I put it into a cake carrier and handed it to Doc Barnaby. “For the card game. Tell the seniors I said hey.”

Doc Barnaby beamed and gave Bryn a wink. “She’s quite a find.”

Bryn nodded.

“Well, I’m off,” the doc said, and with that, he strolled out of the kitchen.

I glanced at Bryn. “Do you think we should wait until tomorrow to look for the missing animals?”

“No. If they are using animal sacrifices for black magic rituals so they can murder Vangie at a distance, we should stop them as soon as possible.”

 • • • 

“I’VE HAD TOO much whiskey to drive,” Bryn said, tossing me his keys. I caught them with raised eyebrows.

“I’m not drunk,” he added. “But I’m certainly over the legal limit, and I’m sure if any of Sutton’s deputy friends pulled us over, I’d find myself in jail.”

That was certainly true. When word got out—which it probably already had—that I’d spent the night with Zach, who’d just gotten home for Christmas, and then the morning after I stayed at his place, I’d ditched him to go back to Bryn, well, Bryn and I wouldn’t be winning any popularity contests with local law enforcement.

We approached Bryn’s sports car. The shape of its headlights made it look predatory, like it was ready to attack the road. The doors opened vertically like an alien craft, and since it had enough power under the hood to practically launch us into space, that was fitting. I dropped into the leather seat and buckled myself in. Bryn joined me, leaning back in the passenger seat, relaxed. I liked that he was so comfortable with my driving. Unlike Zach, Bryn was always quick to acknowledge the things I was good at, like shooting and driving.

Bryn glanced over to find me staring at him. “Everything okay?”

I pulled the seat belt to give myself some slack and leaned toward the opposite seat. I turned Bryn’s face and kissed him, my tongue playing with his. His magic slid down my throat, warming me to the toes.

“Yes,” I said when I pulled back. “Everything’s good.”

Bryn watched me through lowered lids.

I brushed my thumb over his lip, wishing we had time for more kissing. “Sorry. I shouldn’t wind up my toys if I don’t have time to play with them.”

“I’m not a toy,” he said, pinning me with a dark look that sent a shiver of lust to all my sexy parts. “But you’re welcome to play with me.”

“Um—could you stop that?” I said, shoving the key into the ignition.

“Stop what?” His voice was low and smooth. Magic floated to me on warm breath.

“Stop seducing me with your eyes and voice and that warm waterfall of magic spilling over me. I’m trying to drive,” I said, putting the car in gear and rolling to the gate.

I buzzed Steve on the intercom. “We’re heading out for a while. Be sure to let Dr. Suri in to see Mr. Jenson.”

“I will, and be careful out there,” he said.

“We’ll give it a shot,” I said. I pulled the car out onto the street.

“What’s that?” Bryn said, putting a hand against the window.

I looked around. “I didn’t see anything.”

Bryn rolled down the window and a blast of cold air rushed in. “Stop,” Bryn said.

I pulled up next to the curb three houses down from his place. “What’s up?”

“Someone is using blood-and-bones magic. Part of this spell calls the spirits, I think.”

“Can you tell where it’s coming from?”

“Go to Riverbank Park,” he said. “Let’s see if it follows a path along the water.”

He closed the window and I cranked up the heat, but a minute later we were at the entrance to the park.

“Wait for me,” Bryn said.

“Nope. I’m coming with you,” I said, grabbing a gun.

“Tamara, the magic’s not being cast from the park. It’s some distance away.”

“If you say so, but I’m comin’.”

He nodded, climbing out. I joined him on the dock that stretched out over the Amanos River and watched him call to the sky. Magic from the stars folded down on us like whipped cream. I edged closer to him.

“Yeah, sweetheart, come here,” he whispered, catching my free hand. My breath frosted on the air and I shivered, pulling the borrowed coat tighter around me. My feet were freezing, but I let the magic flow and for a moment, I saw a kaleidoscope of color in the night sky, like rainbows shining through the dark.

“Wow,” I said with a gasp.

He brought my hand up and kissed it. His breath warmed my skin, but nothing could overcome the chill.

“Got a signal?”

Bryn grinned. “I’m not a GPS device.”

“You’re not a space heater either. Hurry up if you can. I’m freezing.”

“The blood-and-bones magic is gone, but there’s water magic humming along the river.” He stretched his hands out and whispered in Gaelic. His magic bent and feathered outward. He nodded.

“You have it?”

“Sure, I have it,” he said with a cocky smile.