Is he expecting a confession? That I killed her with my essential oils? Please.
I turn the accusatory tone on him. “That she died, of course. She was a client of ours, a customer. While I didn’t know her well, I still feel awful that she passed.”
For several heartbeats he simply stares at me, saying nothing more. I can’t read what’s going on behind his eyes.
And then he startles me. “You…were in my dreams last night,” he says quietly.
In my peripheral vision, I see Winter sneaking closer, eavesdropping. I refuse to glance at her, but I send her a mental message to back off.
I can’t look away from Tristan and his eyes, and in them, I see a reflection of the dream. Suddenly, his hand on my arm feels like that in the dream, stroking the edge of my jaw, the fingers tracing my neck to my throat, dipping to unbutton my shirt.
With unexpected clarity, I realize I had the same dream last night. My subconscious buried it until this moment, until his eyes showed me the mirror of it.
As I become lost in his eyes, falling down the rabbit hole of erotic scenes, I feel my body heat from within.
The scent of the Sex Magick wraps itself around us, and I watch as he leans in to kiss me.
8
His lips are centimeters from mine, his eyes, previously a cornflower blue, are now a deep indigo reminding me of the night sky.
My body starts to lean toward him, meet him halfway for the kiss, when instead, I freeze him. Not intentionally—it's just an instinctive reaction.
I want to taste his lips, to fall into that dream and reenact it. Yet, nerves get the best of me.
This isn’t right, kissing on the step of the sauna where two people died only days ago, the scent of Sex Magick weaving its way around us.
The chief and I barely know each other, regardless of the sexual attraction simmering beneath our new relationship. It’s just not… logical.
I swallow hard as I look into his eyes. Something is wrong beyond the fact we’re both intoxicated with my blend of aphrodisiacs.
The fire in my chest turns to ice and that weighted feeling presses down on me, almost suffocating. The nausea returns. I’m lightheaded. The underlying smell I was trying to label earlier flares strongly, burning the inside of my nostrils.
Sulfur.
Merlin’s beard. My brain swirls, everything in me going cold.
Annie and Jace didn’t die of natural causes, or any reaction to the potion.
They died because of a demon.
Instantly, I snap my fingers and send white light around Tristan and myself. It wraps us in a bubble of protection, infusing it with gold. I call on the Archangel Michael to protect us. It doesn’t matter I’m not Christian, protective energy works, no matter the belief system. You call it, it comes.
Immediately, the demon energy is forced to slither off, frantically resisting and trying to grasp onto us. It can’t find purchase, and the weightiness leaves. I breathe a sigh of relief.
It’s short lived because at the same moment, my freeze on Tristan stops working.
He falls into me, kissing me. His lips are warm and firm, almost demanding. I run my fingers through his hair and he stills.
The spell is broken, and he jerks back, looking both shocked and slightly embarrassed. “I, ah…” He shakes his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs. Blinks. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what just came over me.”
Try a little demon possession. I wish it was simply me, my natural beauty, charm, or intellect. “You’re under a lot of stress.” I can’t help it, I touch his cheek. “Don’t worry about it.”
He leans slightly into my fingers, then pulls away. My lips tingle and I’m glad to see his eyes are back to normal color.
I’m still slightly woozy, but the protective white energy is recharging me, clearing out the evil. I rise to my feet and he comes with me, keeping hold of my arm.
Past his shoulder, I see Winter chuckling silently. She gives me a thumbs up, and I’m not sure whether it’s because I expelled the demon or Tristan kissed me.
He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, a woman's voice calls, “Chief MacGregor? Is that you?”
We both turn to see Dara bustling toward us. I notice she has a goofy grin on her face, as if excited to see Tristan. She pays no attention to me.
“Has there been a break in the case?” she asks, almost cheerily, as she stops in front of him.
He rubs his eyes and blinks a couple times, seemingly shifting gears between me and her. “No, nothing yet.”
Dara’s gaze lands on the open sauna door. “I thought maybe that’s why you were here.”
“I was checking on the place when I saw Miss Whitethorne.”
Dara looks around oddly and cocks her head, the smile falling off her face. “Miss Whitethorne?”
Tristan glances at me. “Yes.”
I step away as silently as possible and motion at him to go ahead and talk to her.
His attention refocuses on the woman. “She was paying her respects,” he says without calling me out, but I see in his eyes he realizes Dara can’t see me.
“You mean Summer from the metaphysical store? The one who’s into crystals?”
That confirms it for Tristan and he gives me another hard look. At the same time, he asks, “What are you doing here, Dara?”
She glances around, noticing the offerings people have left and sniffling, “Just thought I’d come by to make sure everything was okay. There’s been kids running around the woods at night. You know how teenagers are. Creepy old place like this, the abandoned house, the strange deaths. It’s just ripe for them to decide to scare each other. I wanted to be sure there was no vandalism going on.”
Uh huh. She almost sounds convincing.
Tristan closes the sauna and motions for her to walk with him. He guides her toward her car.
Winter joins me and we stay back several feet, our shoes silent on the grass as we follow.
“I’ve left messages with Annie’s uncle and cousin," the chief says. “Neither’s returned my calls. I still haven’t traced anyone related to Jace. Do you know any of them personally?”
Dara shakes her head. “Annie wasn’t close to her family, and I don’t know anyone on Jace’s side. His ex, Shoshana, might though. Have you talked to her?”
“Shoshana Walker?”
She nods enthusiastically. “Jace left her at the altar for Annie,” she whispers, as if someone might be listening to her gossip.
“You didn’t mention that,” Tristan says.
A shrug and that smile of hers returns. “I don’t like to gossip. I suppose I could look through the house, see if I can find contact info for Jace’s relatives.”
Tristan doesn’t give her permission, but he doesn’t forbid it either. “The coroner’s report won’t be back for days. We had to send the bodies elsewhere since Dr. Kelly is out of town for a convention.” He walks her to her car at the end of the drive, parked behind his SUV. I overhear him say, “I’ll let you know if anything comes up before then. And I’ll keep an eye on the place to make sure there’s no vandalism. You go on home now, Dara. Aaron should be finished with school about now, shouldn’t he?”
Aaron must be her son.
They’re out of sight and Winter and I jump in her VW. She starts laughing as if this is funny, while I grab one of the strawberry breads from the backseat and try not to hyperventilate. How am I’m going to explain why Dara couldn’t see me but he could?
“This isn't funny, Winter,” I insist. “And you better make yourself visible now so he can see you driving the car when we leave.”
She waves a hand in the air as I get out and meet Tristan walking up the gravel drive. Dara takes off but not before she gives him another man-eater look.
I don’t even let him launch into the questions burning in his eyes. “I made this for you.” I practically shove it into his hands. “I hope you like strawberries.”
With my luck, he’s allerg
ic to them.
He looks over the plain brown paper I’ve tied the loaf in. “Did you grow them?”
The question surprises me, and I wonder if he’s decided not to go down the other road with me concerning the fact Dara couldn’t see me. I can hope, right? “Yes, in my greenhouse. It’s too early for garden strawberries, but I have a small healthy plot growing in there.”
He gives a little nod as if he likes his suspicion confirmed. “Thank you.”
I wait expectantly for him to start the litany of twenty questions, holding my breath. He doesn’t, his eyes dropping to my mouth before rising to meet my gaze once more.
I can’t help it—I lick my lips, the movement catching his attention again. I fumble in my skirt pocket and pull out the amulet that hangs on a leather cord. “I found this last night. It used to belong to my father. I wanted to give it to you.”
He touches the pendant swinging in the air, a silver howling wolf. “Why me?”
The alpha, leader of the pack, mysterious with sharp intelligence. Loyal. Protective. It symbolizes many of the characteristics I see in him. “It seems to fit you.”
I think he’s about to say “no thanks,” when instead, he brushes his fingers over mine, as he gently takes it from my grip. “Your dad doesn’t mind if you give his things away?”
Don “Big Eagle” Whitethorne doesn’t care much for trivial things like necklaces. He left when I was four—I should say, Mom threw him out—and he now leads a small band of misfits, acting as a shaman/medicine man north of Raven Falls. “I think he’d want you to have it.”
Tristan holds the bread in one hand, the necklace in the other. “Is there a reason Dara didn’t notice you?”
There it is. I concentrate on wrapping him in as much protective energy as I can muster. “Will you do me a favor?”
Annoyance that I didn’t answer slips into his face, but he nods. “If I can.”
“Don’t go in the sauna without that on, okay?”
He doesn’t give me an answer, only narrowing his eyes.
I leave him and jump in the VW. Winter named it Black Sheep, BS for short. As we back down the drive, BS makes a putting noise and we veer around Tristan’s giant SUV.
He watches me through the windshield, barely acknowledging Winter’s presence or the fact he never noticed her before.
“Well, that was interesting,” she says as we drive away. “Nice job with the demon.”
I bite my lip. “Do you think it’s safe to leave him here alone? Did you get any information from your friend in the woods?”
She screws up her nose slightly. “I don’t think the entity will bother your man. It appears to feed on couples, male and female energy combined. But the spirit was scared of it, and…”
“And what?” I glance over, worrying the edge of my cape. I still feel Tristan’s lips on mine. He’s not ‘my man’ but I’m too worried to argue with her.
She shakes her head, her crazy curls going every which way. “There’s definitely something familiar about it.”
“Like what?”
Another shake. “I don’t know, but there won’t be any natural causes revealed in the coroner’s report, I’m betting.”
A faint layer of sulfur seems stuck in my nose. “What are we going to do? That demon could go after others.”
My sister, who's never scared of anything, looks fearful when she glances at me. I feel her fear transfer to me. “I think we better make offerings at the altar in the woods and check the ley lines before nightfall.”
9
“What’re you saying? That this demon is the one who…?” I can’t bring myself to finish. Mother’s face floats in front of me and my eyes tear.
My fault. My fault. My fault.
The words play over and over in my mind. If only I’d told her what I saw, that portent, she might still be here. It’s a guilt I carry night and day.
“I don’t know,” Winter says sharply. “This demon’s not the same, but…I just don’t know.”
“Not helpful, sister.” A sense of desperation and anger bubbles up. “Either it is or it isn’t.”
That’s how I am, things are black and white for me.
She shoots me a glare as she drives. “I don’t know,” she emphasizes each word. “We need to check the ley lines, make sure they’re still secure.”
We trapped the demon that killed Mom in the earth, using the power of the lines that run across our property as his prison walls. He’s anchored to that ancient forest and we have to make sure no one ever lets him out.
The idea he may be free makes me start to shake. “We need to stop at Dara’s,” I insist. “I have to ask her a couple things.”
“You want to take time to do that right now?”
“None of this resembles what happened when Mom died, so I agree we need to check the ley lines, but we also need more information about Annie and Jace.” I pull up Dara’s address on my phone. “Take the next left. She’s only a couple miles from here.”
Winter makes a disgusted noise, but turns where I tell her.
Dara and her son live in town, a cute little raised ranch with a single tree in front. It’s budding and starting to leaf out. We pull up to the curb and find Dara at the mailbox, looking through a handful of envelopes.
I retrieve the second strawberry bread. “This won’t take long. Keep the car running.”
Winter picks up her phone. “I’ll call Daddy.”
It takes five people to perform the spell. Mom was our fifth. In the six months she’s been gone, we haven’t recharged that pentagram. Dad will be happy to help, I’m sure, if Winter can track him down, but I’m not sure how I feel about him taking Mom’s place.
Dara looks at me funny when I walk up and say hi. I hold out my offering. “My sisters and I want to extend our sympathies about Annie. We know how close you were and her unexpected death must be a terrible shock.”
She tucks the envelopes under one arm and accepts the bread. “Thank you.” Her head starts bobbing and tears form in her eyes. “Annie was like a sister to me. I keep thinking she’s going to text or call. I’ve caught myself a dozen times today reaching for my phone to do the same to her.”
My fear and grief over my mother, and the thought of losing one of my sisters—my best friends—makes my own eyes water in response. I can only imagine how she feels. “Have they set a time for the funeral?”
She shakes her head. “They haven’t even managed to contact any of her family yet in Minnesota.” Her fingers toy with the twine holding the paper together around the bread. “I don’t know what we’re going to do about a funeral or burial.”
Even though I know the answer, I ask about Jace. “And her husband's family? Do any of them live around here?”
Another adamant shake. Her voice hiccups. “I feel horrible they’re in the morgue, no one to claim the bodies or make arrangements. I should do more, but I… I don’t know what.”
Grief is such a horrible thing, and feeling helpless makes it worse. “Do you know why she came to our shop for the essential oils and advice rather than seeking marital counseling?”
“She was always into that woo woo stuff.” Dara makes quotation marks around the term, then looks slightly chagrined when she remembers who she’s talking to and the fact I saw her leaving an energy session with Summer last night. “Besides, counseling costs money and Annie was more of a DIY person. She thought she could find the answer to anything on the net.”
I want to know more about Jace’s ex-girlfriend, and I search for a way to bring her up without appearing too direct or insensitive. “Do you know why they were having problems?”
A solid tear has gathered and escapes from the corner of her eye. A quick but dramatic brush of her hand and it’s gone. “She was so determined to hang onto him, it might have been wishful thinking. Like I said, she didn’t have many to rely on, no family around, and she believed he was her soulmate, that they’d been partners in previous lifetimes. Your sister did thei
r charts.” Dara rolls her eyes as if this is a ridiculous idea. “Annie was determined the two of them had to be together forever, and she had no intention of letting him leave her.”
“Was he involved with someone else?” I might as well be blunt now. It doesn’t seem like Dara cares, and I can hear Winter in my mind urging me to hurry.
Dara’s face closes down, her eyes going flat and hard. Her nervous fingers stop working over the twine. “I know he was. I saw him outside Dickey’s bar with his ex a few weeks ago.” She lowers her voice and looks around for eavesdroppers. There’s no one, not a single car driving by. “Let’s just say they were more than friendly.”
“And you told her about it?”
She looks slightly indignant. “Of course. She deserved to know.”
“Jace’s ex… is she the jealous type?”
She huffs, like that’s an understatement. “They had words over Jace plenty of times. This time, Shoshana threatened her! They practically got into a knock-down drag-out fight!”
If that’s true either woman might have gone to extreme means to keep this man. Possibly even summoning a demon to take the other out? “Jace must have been quite the catch.”
“He is…was. He was definitely too good for—” She stops herself. “Well, guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?”
A school bus pulls up and a young boy barrels down the steps and runs toward us. He looks about five, maybe six, and there are dark smudges under his eyes. Without a word, he flings himself at Dara, hugging her leg, his dark eyes glaring at the bus as it pulls away.
“This is my son, Aaron.” She ruffles his hair. “Aaron, say hi to Miss Whitethorne.”
Those eyes of his are terribly sad as they shift to me. I bend to his level and give him a bright smile. “Hello, Aaron. Nice to meet you.”
He doesn’t speak, his eyes telling me all I need to know. His aura is clouded with the same unhappiness I see in his soul.
I can’t stand to see children or animals suffer.
Of Potions and Portents Page 5