Bronwyn made it back to the Hag’s Head after lunch. Niamh dropped her off in the farting, smelling Land Rover and left with a cheery wave and a hoot as she gunned down the road, causing a couple of teen boys to leap for the sidewalk and safety.
Entering the dim, dark wood wainscoted quiet of the pub, Bronwyn had the surreal sense of walking in someone else’s life for the last few hours. She felt like she’d bought a lottery ticket expecting to win a ton of money but had won her own island instead. It was super cool to be the winner, and the island was so much more than she ever believed she would win, but the course of her life had shifted, and she needed to catch up.
She was a witch, and if the Cray women were to be believed, and she totally did believe them, she was a cré-witch. According to Sinead, her entire family must have been cré-witches, going generations back. It was so much more than she’d thought she’d find. Knowing others like her were there, in Baile Castle, made her feel she could claim who and what she was for the first time in her life without the inner wince.
“I’m a witch,” she whispered as she climbed the creaky stairs to her room. She’d always known her affinity for water, and Deidre had guessed there might be witches out there who drew from the other three elements, but now she knew for sure.
In the kitchen, she’d watched as Niamh drew a spark from the air, how Mags could get the air to move about them, and seen for herself the massive explosion of plants in Baile’s kitchen gardens. When Deidre had died, she’d felt the loss of her grandmother, but also the loss of the one being in the world who was like her. Now she knew there were at least four others like her, and that meant there could be more.
Little witch.
“Bronwyn.” Alexander emerged out of the gloomy shadows in the upper hallway.
Her nape prickled and the familiar wash of heat swept her body. “Alexander.”
“Yes.” There was a tautness about him that put her on guard. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
That news made her happier than it should have. With all the other revelations she was having, it didn’t seem a good time for romance, but whenever he was near, she yearned to get closer. “I’ve been at—”
“Baile. Yes, I’m aware.” He stuck his hands in the pockets of his dark gray dress pants. “Are you free now?”
“I was going to take a nap.” It had been one day since she’d seen him last, but she wanted that time with him back. For an insane moment, she was almost overcome by the desire to invite him to join her for that nap.
“I wish I could,” he said, as if she’d spoken her thought aloud. He took her hand in a firm, warm grasp. “But I need to speak to you.”
“What is it?” She curled her fingers around his. Her hand belonged in his. Even as the thought came, she shoved it aside. Having these thoughts about a man she’d only recently met and barely knew was insane.
“Little witch. Bronwyn.” His dark eyes carried a weight of sadness so heavy she didn’t know how he bore it. It reached inside her and wrapped around her heart. “You have to know…” He cleared his throat. “Take a drive with me.”
Whatever else he had been about to say, the thing he didn’t say, that was the thing she wanted to hear. Being with him was so confusing and exhausting. Emotional currents swirled and eddied around them, and with the dream and wee-hour tea parties, she’d barely slept the night before. “I really am tired.”
“I know.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “None of this is fair to you. Come for a drive with me.”
When he asked with his heart in his eyes like that, she could deny him nothing. “Okay.”
“My lord.” A chambermaid appeared at the top of the stairs with a pile of snow-white bedlinen in her arms. “Do you need anything, Miss Beaty?”
“No, thank you, I was—”
“Make up Miss Beaty’s room, Stella.” Alexander wrapped his arm around her waist. He pressed her against his side and planted a hot kiss on her neck. “We’ll be back shortly.”
“Right you are, my lord.” Stella’s eyes gleamed. “That is excellent news, my lord.”
Bronwyn’s skin tingled from his kiss, but at the same time, it weirded her out. To her way of thinking, they were nowhere near the sort of intimacy he’d implied to Stella. Also, why the hell was he bothering to share any detail of their relationship with Stella?
“Come.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders and led her down the stairs.
He took her around back of the pub to where his car waited in a small parking lot wedged between buildings. Opening the door for her, he motioned her inside.
“What was all that about?” Bronwyn pointed to the pub. “And you keep calling me little witch.” She held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “Don’t tell me it’s my imagination. I’ve had about all the strange shit I can take right now.”
“I know.” Sighing, he scrubbed a hand across his face. “But come for a drive with me, and I’ll answer your questions.”
Once she was in the car he drove through the village and took the road to the castle. As far as she knew, this road only went one place.
Bronwyn turned in her seat. “We’re going to Baile.”
“Eventually,” he said and kept driving.
More riddles and half answers. “Alexander.” She put as much steel as she could into her voice. “Pull over. I want those answers now. I’ve just left Baile. I can’t go back there now.”
“Can you give me ten more minutes?” He glanced at her. “Then you’ll understand.”
Fool that she was, Bronwyn nodded.
When they reached Baile’s drawbridge, he pulled the car to the shoulder and climbed out.
Bronwyn got out before he could come around to her side.
Sadness was back in his eyes, and she wanted to cry for him, and for some strange reason, she wanted to cry for her too.
“Little witch.” He cradled her face. “I call you this because that’s what you are.”
She started that he knew that. She’d only fully admitted the truth to herself this morning. “I don’t…” It seemed best to say nothing so she trailed off.
“You are a water witch,” he said and kissed her forehead. “And unless I miss my guess, you are a healer as well.”
Fear tiptoed into the bright, sparkly cocoon he wove around her with his touch and his words. He shouldn’t know these things, couldn’t know these things. “Who are you?”
“Give me a second on that one.” He trailed his lips to her cheek.
It was hard to think past the touch of his lips, and the gentle scrape of his beard. “Why?”
“Once I tell you who I am, you will never look at me the same.” He drew back and his gaze searched her eyes. “I want to remember the way you’re looking at me now forever. I want to see the man I wish I was reflected back at me.”
“I don’t understand.” Tears prickled behind her lids. It sounded like he was saying goodbye, and it felt that way too. They hadn’t even gotten to know each other, and he was walking away. The wrongness of him leaving resonated through her. “Tell me.”
“Your ancestor came from here.” He nodded toward Baile. “Almost four hundred years ago, she would have been a member of this coven, and a healer.”
“You can’t know that.”
“But I do know this, my little witch. And so much more.” He kissed her, a soft brush of his mouth over hers. “I know because healing is hereditary, and when I touch your hands, I can feel the power in them. I know because when you reach for your gift, I smell the honey and sage of it. I know because I was there.”
“Eh?” She must have misheard him. Either that or he was nuts. “This isn’t funny.”
“I’m guessing your ancestor was away from Baile the night the coven was attacked.” When she tried to pull away, he tightened his hold on her face. “Healers were often out of the castle. She might even have had a coimhdeacht with her, and he got her to safety. Either way, she escaped the coven massacre and went to America.”
“Let go of me.” He must have been making fun of her desire to connect with her heritage. All this crazy talk and using words she didn’t recognize. “I want to go back now.”
“You can’t go back.” He shook his head. “I lied to get you into the car.” Jerking his head at the car he said, “I have your packed bags in the boot.”
Outrage swept through her and she wrenched away from him. “I…what…what the hell!”
“I was hoping you would stay at Baile this morning, because that’s where you need to be, behind Baile’s wards.” He looked as sane as the next man, but the crap coming out of his mouth was certifiable.
She marched around to his trunk and popped it. Like he’d said, her suitcase and carry-on were in there. “Son of a bitch. You had no right to touch my stuff. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Listen to me” He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a small shake. “You’re going to need to listen and do it well.”
The nerve of the asshole. She didn’t find him one bit sexy now. “Listen to me, you moth—”
“If you don’t get inside Baile’s wards, and stay there, the same thing will happen to you that happened to your grandmother, your sister, your aunt, your mother.” His gaze bored into her. “The same thing will happen to you that happened to all the women in your family.”
“Are you threatening me?” Pulse spiking, fear thrummed through her.
“No, sweeting.” His face gentled. “I’m trying to save you.”
“From what?” When he didn’t speak fast enough for her, she planted her palms on his chest and shoved. “Talk!”
He barely rocked back. “Goddess cannot wake until she has a witch from each element. We thought all the water witches were extinct, but you were in hiding.”
She had questions, so many, and yet her brain couldn’t form the right words into sentences, so she gaped at him.
“It took Rhiannon time to find you, but she did, and she’s been killing the women in your family who manifest the gift. One at a time, until you’re the last one left.”
Her feet didn’t feel solid around her and the cliff, the sea, his face all blurred and swirled. She thought she might faint. “You can’t know this. This can’t be true.”
“You are the last water witch, Bronwyn, and without you, Goddess will never wake.” He pulled her into his arms. “You’re going to have to get over your freak out, because we’re out of time, and there’s more you need to know.”
She fought his hold. If she heard any more, her head might explode. “There can’t be.”
“Listen to me.” He held her against him, refusing to let her struggle free. “You must listen to me. If you keep walking around in ignorance, it will kill you. And you cannot die, little witch. I will not let that happen.”
“Why?” She stayed stiff in his hold, but the betraying softening was already invading her muscles.
“Because the way you feel when I’m around. This impossible fucking craving to be close to me, I have it too.” He kissed the top of her head. “You are my destiny, Bronwyn, and I’m only now grasping the full extent of that.”
His words, the startling sincerity of his voice, reached inside her and quieted her.
“I was created for you,” he said. “And I’ve been waiting all these years for you. I had no idea when I found you that I would crave just to be near you.”
“Please.” She pressed her face into his neck. Not sure what she was asking of him, but sure that she needed it like her next heartbeat.
“Ironically, it’s because I was created for you that I can never have you.”
It was crazy, but he broke her heart with those words. “You can, I’m right here. I don’t understand most of this, and I’m terrified, but you’re the only thing I am certain of.”
“You can’t be.” He drew back far enough to look at her. “You belong first to Goddess, and she needs you, and the rest of us need Goddess. Without her, we’re fucked.”
Bronwyn didn’t get half of what he was saying. She only got that he was walking away from her before they’d even started. A tiny part of her brain registered she wasn’t asking the questions she should be asking. That she was focusing on the wrong thing.
“There’s a prophecy,” he said, his beautiful eyes intent on hers. “The son of death shall bear the torch that lights the path. And the daughter of life shall bring forth water nascent and call it onto the path of light. Then they will bear fruit. And this fruit will be the magick. The greatest of magick and the final magick.”
“That has nothing to do with me.” She shook her head, but she couldn’t shake the sick feeling he was telling the truth.
“You are the daughter of life.” He smiled. “And I’m the son of death. In your heart, you know it’s true.”
She stared at him. Deidre and her dream flooded back to her.
“There are forces that want the child we would create.” Alexander laughed, but it held no real humor. “Our child will be the greatest and the final magic, and there are forces that will kill to control that child.”
“This is nuts.” It seemed such a gross understatement that it made her laugh. Once she started to laugh, she couldn’t seem to stop.
“The story Hermione told you is true.” He spoke over her hysterical laughter. “Almost the entire coven was massacred in one night. They were massacred by the same being who wants our child. She tried to overthrow Goddess that night, and she failed. Since then, Goddess has been dormant, but that you’re here now is a sign she’s ready to awaken.”
“You keep talking about a goddess.” She battled her bizarre laughter under control. “I don’t even know who that is.”
“She is who you serve.” His expression grew wistful. “She is why the cré-witches came into being. Your coven sisters will tell you about her.”
Sadness, soul deep mourning, pierced her. There had been many more coven sisters and they were all gone.
Alexander growled and shook his head. “There’s so much to tell you and not enough time for all of it.” He cleared his throat. “You think you came here to find your past, but you’re here because you’re fulfilling a deeper purpose in a game that is bigger than both of us. You’re here to save the cré-witches by waking up Goddess.” He raised her hand and kissed it. “And Goddess must wake.”
“You can’t be serious about this.” She felt stretched taut beneath her skin. “Where does that prophecy thing fit into this?”
“They have dovetailed into one person. You.” He shrugged. “Goddess always did like a neat plan.”
Her mind refused to absorb the information. Words were being fired at her like missiles, and they exploded around her and shattered her world. “This isn’t real.”
“It’s real.” He tightened his grip almost painfully on her hand. “And you’re out of time. Rhiannon knows you’re here, and she knows how to get to you.”
“Rhi—what are you talking about?” And then, like she was a complete fucking girl, tears streamed down her face. She didn’t even know why she was crying, but it all felt too much.
“I know this is a lot. Strangely enough, that will be the least of my sins against you when you come to make sense of all this.” He gripped her shoulders. “For now, understand this. I have never wanted to flout my fate more than I do now.” And he kissed her.
Hot and hungry, he devoured her mouth with his.
She tasted the despair and desperation in his kiss, and she wanted to take it away.
Then he released her and looked beyond her.
Niamh and Mags walked through the gatehouse surrounded by Niamh’s usual collection of animals.
“Mags knew you would be here, and the animals sensed Bronwyn,” Niamh said. “What’s going on Alexander?”
“Bronwyn can tell you.” As if it hurt him physically, he grimaced and stepped away from her. “She’s had a shock, and she’s going to need you when she recovers.” Alexander unpacked her luggage from his trunk and put it on the road in front of Niamh. “Take her inside the wards and keep her there.” His face was so cold it made her shiver. “If she leaves, she’s as good as dead. Don’t doubt it for a second. In your library, I want you to look up Rhiannon. When you find that information, know that she’s back, and she’s stronger than ever. There’s a fight coming, and you ladies need to wake the fuck up in a hurry and get ready.”