Slightly Spellbound (19 page)

“How about this?” I asked, all saccharine. “I’ll trade you your life for my phone.”

He glared at me, but nodded.

“Drop the phone and your bow and back away.”

He dropped the phone.

“Now your bow.”

“No. Kill me if you will. I won’t give up my bow.”

“I don’t want to kill you, but if I turn my back on you, you could shoot me with it.”

“You have my word that I won’t shoot you this day or night.”

“But you’re free to shoot me tomorrow, huh? What happened to your offer to save my life?”

“You answered my offer with a threat. It seems likely that you’ll end up dead by my bow. But that won’t happen this night. My word,” he said earnestly. I believed him.

“Okay.” I bent down and retrieved my phone. As I started to stand, he shoved. He knocked my arm to the side so he didn’t fall on the arrow as he landed on top of me.

I struggled, but he pinned my arms and his eyes flashed like smoky quartz. Then he kissed me, and he tasted like honey and sunshine even as he bruised my mouth.

I twisted my hand free to stab him with the arrow, but he caught my arm and slammed it to the ground, making my bones rattle.

A second later, he rolled off me and regained his feet. He grinned down at me. “You’re exactly who you claim to be.”

I cursed at him and rubbed the sweetness from my lips. “You do that again, and I’ll poke more holes in you than a piecrust.”

“I like huckleberry pie. I’d be pleased for you to make me one.”

As if!
Faeries are kind of psycho. One minute they assault you. The next they expect a pie?

“I don’t think so,” I grumbled, getting to my feet and brandishing the arrow as I fumbled through the leaves for my fallen cell phone.

“Until next we meet,” he said, and then he disappeared between the trees and was gone.

Despite the fact that most of my skin felt sunburned, I shivered. The wind carried a chill that rustled the leaves.

Just great. A kiss-stealing killer faery. Why the hell couldn’t supernatural creatures let me be?

I glanced down at my bare legs and grimaced. As furious as I was, there was someone who’d be even more furious about Crux than I was. Bryn. I dreaded telling him.

“If it’s not one thing, it’s a half dozen.”

21

I LISTENED TO my messages on the cell phone. In the ones from Vangie, she said, “Tammy Jo, I just know there’s a reason you’re not around. I hope they didn’t kidnap you. I sincerely hope that’s not the reason you’re missing.” She paused. “I went to my father’s house in Dallas and broke in. I’ve got a box—she hid it well! She killed him from a distance, and now I have the proof! Call me
as soon
as you get this message.”

The message I left her said, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t home when you came looking for me. I tangled with some people in your stepmother’s family. I’m worried they might have gotten hold of you. Jackson—I met him—and I are worried sick. Call me as soon as you get this message. And about the proof, that’s great! With that, we can get them locked up . . . or whatever happens to witch murderers.”

I didn’t want to waste time going home to change. So I showed up at Bryn’s house half-dressed for the second time.

I peeked out into the sunroom and spotted Mr. Jenson. He wore his pajamas, bathrobe, and house slippers. Mercutio slept on the glider next to him. With an inhaler and a pot of tea on the side table, he sat reading a book. At least Mr. Jenson seemed okay, I thought, relieved.

I checked the library and found Bryn. He wore jeans and a gray sweater, and his skin was darker than normal.

“You’ve got a suntan,” I said.

“So do you,” he said, glancing at my legs. “Nice outfit. Are you auditioning for the role of Peter Pan or one of the Lost Boys?”

“I have a suntan?” I asked, partially closing the door so I could look in the round mirror behind it. Sure enough, I was suntanned—and a little shimmery. Momma and Aunt Mel were like most redheads; they couldn’t get suntans. If they didn’t use sunscreen, they turned red as raspberries. I’d always felt lucky that I didn’t get sunburns, but now I realized it was probably because I was half faery.

“The winter sun doesn’t cause a tan that dark. So why did I wake up an hour ago with a fever, looking like I’d just spent the day at a Playa del Sol resort?”

“Well . . .”

“Tamara?” He ran a hand through his black hair, and intense cobalt eyes studied me.

“Somebody, Oatha I think, tried to roast me,” I said. “I went swimming and escaped.”

He frowned. “I felt it. I cast a spell to protect us, which seems to have worked to some extent, but you were right. Oatha’s amassed a lot of power from black magic.”

“See! Yeah, so we have to figure out where she’s casting her spells from. Not just for our sake, but because I think they might have kidnapped Vangie. She’s got some proof against her stepmother. She got it from her dad’s house in Dallas, and no one’s seen her since early in the morning. She left Dyson to find me and vanished.”

Bryn shook his head, frowning. “I spoke to Vangie’s father’s lawyer. She’s right. If she dies before she marries, Oatha inherits everything. If Vangie gets married, the bulk of the estate, including the house, reverts to her.”

“I don’t understand, though. Even if they lost the house and some of the money, couldn’t they just steal his valuables and spellbooks when they left? They could’ve claimed Vangie was paranoid and deluded about things being missing, and people probably would’ve believed them over her.”

“Ever since he died there’s been a battle for control of his library, and there are several special provisions to protect it. Vangie’s father seems to have stored his power not in the individual books, but in the room itself.”

I shoved my hands through my hair. “So they have to keep the house to keep his power.”

“The regional witches and wizards won’t allow Oatha Theroux to keep the house if it’s proven she killed Evangeline.”

“A fat lot of good that will do Vangie if she’s already dead! And if Oatha uses voodoo or some trickery, maybe you guys won’t be able to prove she killed Vangie.” I shook my head. “So they found out that she’s engaged, and now they’re desperate.” I took a deep breath and blew it out. “Desperate people are the worst!” My hands fisted. “I have to find Oatha Theroux.”

“I’m working on it, but they’ve moved since they cast the spell that burned you.”

“Already? That was fast.”

“It was, but they had to move.”

“They did? How come?”

“Because my counterspell to their magic was pretty aggressive.”

“What did you do?”

“I made their roof cave in.”

“What?” I yelped. “Vangie might’ve been in the house with them.”

He nodded with a grim expression. “I didn’t know that at the time.”

“All right, so first off we have to go to the house to see—”

“The firefighters and police have already been there. I spoke to Sutton. No bodies.”

I stilled. “You talked to Zach?” My brows rose. “Zach talked to you?”

“Briefly.”

“How was that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “He and I have one thing in common. We don’t want anyone to kill you. I relayed our suspicions about the Therouxs. He was in a better position to check out the house after the roof caved in, so he went.”

Bryn took a swig of coffee.

“Their concealment spell is a good one, and I’ve used a lot of magic over the past two days. I need to cast a power spell before I try to cast a spell to break their cover. Unfortunately, my power spells are better cast at night when I can see the stars.”

“I don’t think we should wait. Use my magic. Add it to yours so we can cast a good spell to find Oatha right now.”

“Tamara—”

“I know,” I said, strolling over to him. I slid my arms around his neck. “It’s not the most romantic reason to fool around, but it’s a pretty good reason to, don’t you think?”

He stared into my eyes. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea for me to drain a lot of power from you. I want you as strong as possible, in case Oatha Theroux tries to kill you using voodoo again.”

“Believe me, I want to be strong enough to survive, too. But if we find Oatha, maybe we can stop her from ever using the voodoo doll again. And we can save Vangie if they have her, which I’m pretty convinced they do.”

He nodded and his hand rested on my leg and stroked my skin, giving me goose bumps.

“Hang on till we have privacy,” I said, grabbing his hand.

“What are you wearing, by the way? Where are your pants?”

“Let’s talk about that later,” I said, leaning against him. When I kissed him, he drew back and licked his lips.

“What’s on your mouth?”

“What?” I asked, running my tongue over my lips. I could still taste a hint of honey and salt. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “It’s a long story. We’ll talk about it once we deal with the Therouxs.”

He hesitated. “I don’t want you to keep things from me.”

“I won’t. Just let’s do the power spell first and talk later. I think I’ll wash my face and brush my teeth.” Glancing down at the smudges of mud on my legs, I added, “I’d better take another shower, too. I swear my skin’s going to be drier than a lizard’s before the week’s out. Using that much shower gel scrubs away all the body’s natural oils,” I complained. “Come upstairs and you can put lotion on me in the places I can’t reach.”

He watched me cross to the door. “You think I’m that easy to manipulate, huh?”

“Well . . .” I said, cocking my head. “I think you’re quick to help me when I need it. You don’t want me to get lizard skin, do you?”

He arched a brow.

I looked over my shoulder at him and smiled. “Okay, stay here. I’ll just come down with the lotion, but then we’ll have to worry about security cameras catching us at whatever we end up doing.”

Walking toward me, he said, “I’m not agreeing to do things all your way.”

“Okay,” I said innocently.

He paused, narrowing his eyes, and stood stubbornly in the library doorway. “You plan to make it hard for me to resist, don’t you?”

I stopped on the steps with an impish grin. “Well, yeah. But if it’s any consolation, I plan for us to have a really good time while I distract you.”

He tried not to smile, and I added sincerely, “Also, I love you.”

He sighed and joined me on the stairs. “Apparently sometimes, I am that easy.”

 • • • 

AFTER MY SHOWER, I rubbed lotion on my arms. Bryn sat in a chair in the corner of the room reviewing a book with a ghoulish cover. He lowered it to watch me.

I wore a green and gold satin robe that I’d bought online. Sitting on the bed, I squeezed lotion on my calves and massaged it in. “Mr. Jenson looks better. That medicine from Dr. Suri must be helping. Do you know what part of India Dr. and Mrs. Suri are from?”

“No, why?”

“Because India’s like Texas,” I said.

Bryn barked out a laugh. “How so?”

“Well, Texas is big and has different weather and terrain and accents. So does India, right? And most importantly, different parts of India have different cuisine. If I’m going to make something tasty for Dr. and Mrs. Suri to thank him for making a house call, I have to find out what kind of spices they like best,” I said. “I’ll talk to Johnny. He can find out anything about anyone. It’s the scalp massage. It’s almost impossible not to let something slip when that guy’s fingers are going to town. I’ve never been hypnotized, but it can’t be more relaxing than fifteen minutes in Johnny’s chair.”

I started toward Bryn with the bottle of lotion in my outstretched hand, thinking he could put some on my back and we could get cozy, but I never made it to him.

The bottle of lotion fell to the floor as I was lurched off the ground, my stomach dropping like I was riding a roller coaster. A split second later, I was flung backward and slammed against the French doors. I guess they weren’t locked because they banged open and my ankles hit the balcony railing as I flew over it.

An outstretched branch whacked my shoulders. It knocked the wind out of me, but I caught it. My fingers clamped down, and I dangled two stories above the flower beds, panting from the adrenaline rush.

“For the love of Hershey,” I yelled as my body whipped back and forth like I was on a swing. I tightened my grip, making my hands grind against the bark, scraping them raw. My heart thumped in protest, and my palms grew sweaty.

No!

Falling twenty-five feet to the ground or being whipped through the air and then slamming onto the lawn both seemed like scary options.

Bryn thrust out a hand, and his magic grabbed me. Then there was a tug-of-war. The towel came loose and fell into the flower bed, leaving me bare-assed . . . again. Not to mention that we’d just bleached those towels to get them pure white, and now look . . . Yikes, the ground was far away.
Don’t look down!

I jerked my gaze up and cursed a blue streak under my breath. I didn’t want to make too much noise. If I did, Mr. Jenson might look up, and it was hardly dignified for me to hang from a tree in my birthday suit.

Bryn strained, whispering magic-laced words. My body swayed toward the balcony. If I got the tree to help, I could swing back to the house.

“Tree,” I said. “Can you give me a swing toward the terrace? I’d appreciate it ever so much,” I said sweetly.

The tree twitched its assent. The branch swayed back, dragging Bryn to the railing, and then thrust me toward him. I sailed forward and let go at the last possible moment, reaching out. Bryn plucked me out of the air and set me on my feet. He spun toward the south and drove magic out like a lance, his eyes glittering blue-black.

The magic slammed so hard into something my teeth rattled. For a split second, I saw inside a crumbling house. The Therouxs were there. Four of them fell to the floor and were deadly still. Oatha dropped to her knees, her face haggard and worn. She snarled, clutching her chest with her left hand. I saw a doll at her feet, the pretty plastic head attached to a cloth body. I opened my mouth to scream as she snatched it with her right hand.

In the next instant, I flew off the balcony. Bryn shouted and reached for me with his magic, but it didn’t hold. It only caught the tips of my toes for a second. She’d thrown me in a blind fury. I rocketed over treetops with a deafening whoosh.