| |
We stayed at the pub for dinner, and when Kyle and I returned home, I went to my workroom out of habit. I stood in the dark, afraid to turn on the lights. Who might be outside the windows, watching?
Kyle slipped his arms around me from behind. “You okay?”
I shook my head.
“Want to talk?”
I did not, and I hated being afraid. I flipped on the light switch, marched to the windows and pulled the blinds closed.
“What’s this?” Kyle held a sock monkey in his hands.
“Rhetorical question?” I asked.
“I didn’t think you brought your inventory home.”
I took the sock monkey from him and immediately flashed on Georgia. Had she been here? I closed my eyes and reached out to her. Nothing.
“Brynn?”
“What do I do?” I asked Kyle.
“About...?”
“If what Sharon said is true... if this is Georgia’s sock monkey... but Jason made it clear I’m not welcome. If LeAnne...” My breath caught. “She wanted to be part of his family. Surely, she wouldn’t do something to hurt Georgia, or me.”
“Tell you what. First thing tomorrow, I’ll look into LeAnne. Find out what I can. The same way not everyone you meet is a criminal, not everyone who can do the things you do is a bad person.”
I scoffed at his avoidance. “Depends on who you ask. Jason seems to think so.”
“I’m guessing Jason doesn’t see in his wife what he sees in you.”
Validation. I turned to Kyle. “Right? Which makes me think Sharon is lying. Or hiding something. Or there’s another mysterious woman lurking about.” The woman Hannah had told me to watch out for. A shiver shook me. “What do I do?”
“There’s nothing more we can do tonight. We’ll see what more we can learn tomorrow.”
Except Georgia hadn’t responded to me, and I was certain I held her sock monkey. Something had changed, intensifying my concern for my little cousin. Would the hidden grimoire help? More shivers ran through me like maggots on a corpse—and why did that image jump into my mind? “I have work I want to do in here, special orders for tomorrow. It’ll help me focus my energy somewhere else for a while.”
“You want me to hang around?”
I waved him off. “No. Go watch television, or fix something across the street, or go to bed. I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure...”
I leaned up and kissed him. “Go on.”
“I’ll watch television then. If you need something, I’m within earshot.”
I pushed him into the living room, turned, and faced the work table. No open books, but there was one I intended to consult. I closed my eyes and called out to the book in the secret cache. When I opened my eyes, it lay on the table before me.
“What do I do?” I whispered.
The cover flipped open and the brittle pages crackled as they turned. When they stopped, I took a halting step forward. To Separate a Witch from her Power. With a skull and crossbones and a warning the spell would reflect back on the person casting it. Was the book directing me to use the spell, or guard myself against it? I read the spell, cure her gifts like fired clay, to be repeated three times, and the ingredients to the potion that went with it. Rosemary oil. Clematis. Dandelion. According to the grimoire, the potion helped to harness the magic, which when coalesced acted like fired porcelain to be shattered.
Did I care if I lost my power? I had a degree in ethnobotany. Regardless of the something extra I brought to my herbs and flowers, I still had the knowledge and ability to help people. A few months ago, I wanted no part of the extra.
If I lost my gift, who would mentor Georgia?
Nora came to mind. Or Hannah. Or any of the other wiccan women who had attended the solstice ceremony.
“Is this what will happen? Or what might happen?” I asked the book.
In the blink of an eye, the hidden grimoire was replaced by one of the other books, open to a recipe. For constipation. I laughed, struck by the ordinariness of the mixture. Celery seed. Easy enough.
I shifted gears to work on the other recipes as they presented themselves, trying to ignore what I’d read in the book of spells.
When Kyle called out he was going to bed, I checked the time. Midnight. Georgia had made her astral visits near midnight. Would she show tonight? Should I guide her dreams?
Ash jumped onto my lap, and as I stroked her, I picked up Georgia’s sock monkey, closed my eyes and called on the spell. The clouds came for me, carrying me to Georgia, and when I arrived, I found her sitting beside a cradle, not her own bedroom. The baby fussed and Georgia rocked him gently, singing a song—Blackbird. She seemed unaware of my presence. From another room, I heard LeAnne’s voice. Your son is crying.
While Georgia quieted him, neither LeAnne nor Jason came to check on the baby.
Uncertain what to do, I set Georgia’s monkey on the floor behind her, and withdrew from the scene.
Wouldn’t parents hover over a newborn to be sure everything was okay? Was I looking for a reason to suspect LeAnne after what Sharon had told me? She’d been friendly to me, reaching out to me as family. I had no reason not to trust her. Assuming Jason hadn’t heard the baby’s cries, I rationalized LeAnne didn’t get up because she was exhausted or uncomfortable after the ordeal of childbirth.
Like a cold draft, a blast of negative energy chilled me. I stretched my thumb and forefinger in response, calling on the white light to surround me. The flood of light I’d become accustomed to churned into storm clouds mixed with the negative energy.
I shot a glance at the staircase outside my workroom doorway, where Kyle had retreated moments earlier. He had made it clear he wanted to protect me. Would I be able to protect him?