by Lenore Wolfe
TWENTY-NINE
CLAIRE
That night, as Tara lay in bed thinking about all the things that had happened that day, she couldn’t help but wonder what would become of them. When she’d woke that morning, she’d have never imagined the mess that would happen—even though she’d been the one to figure out what Sophia was. But the stuff Jacelyn had revealed….
On top of that, seeing Thorick come to life—now—wow! That had been a whole lot different than merely guessing at the truth.
Where could she find a guy like that?
Well, Sophia did promise to introduce her to this Drake, guy. Tara couldn’t help but wonder about Drake. Was he also Gargoyle? Tara rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d even thought that. First, she had crushed on the winged man. Now—just the inkling of one of her own out there watching her….
Sophia had been so mysterious about that. Even when they’d been giggling, and whispering in the hallway, waiting for Sophia to gather up her daughter from Morgan and Alex. Sophia still wouldn’t tell her.
That left Tara to lay in bed with only her imagination. And, ever since, Tara’s imagination had been working overtime.
Is he a friend of Thorick’s? she had said to Sophia. That means he’s Gargoyle, right? Sophia did say he’d spotted her on several occasions so—he watched her.
That also meant that the Fae watched them. And Tara didn’t know exactly how to feel about that.
But the Gargoyle.
Believing a thing was one thing—but then she woke up the other day and had those beliefs proven to her—in a very real way—and everything had changed for her.
Now, she learned that this whole other world kept an eye on them, and had been from the time they were small children—in part—because they were witches—and in part because of Sophia.
She just still found that more than a little unnerving.
Still, it felt a little comforting, too.
These were powerful beings—and they were watching out for them—had been protecting them for many years. They obviously didn’t mean them harm—since they were quite vulnerable when they were children—and could have been easily taken out, if that had been their intent.
Of course, they’d also had an entire coven looking out for them, along with the rest of the Fae….
Who were they? Really? To have so many powerful beings watching out for them? Tara flattened her pillow at that thought, turning over to find a more comfortable position.
She didn’t want to think about that—now.
She’d nearly drifted off when the familiar creak of the attic floorboards came from overhead. Getting up, she put on a robe and slipped out into the darkened hallway, heading for the attic stairs. When she reached the landing, she peeked inside, not surprised to see Claire. “What are you doing, staying up so late? You know your aunt will have you up early.”
Claire gave her a cheeky grin, then sobered. “Studying the book—again. I’m trying to make sure we haven’t missed anything. I wish I’d a way to make sure we’ve found the best way to deal with this maniac.”
Tara came over to the couch to where Claire sat, and plopped down at the other end, stealing the other end of her blanket to cover up her feet.
“But we asked the coven everything they know.”
Claire bit her lip in frustration. “And yet he’s managed to haunt our family for hundreds of years.”
Tara bent her legs and tucked the blanket around her feet and wrapped her arms around her legs. “That’s just it. The reason he’s still alive—is that no one’s come up with a way to take him down.”
Claire stared at Tara. “Maybe that’s it,” she said suddenly. Throwing off her end of the blanket, she got up and began pacing. "Okay, so we know that we can’t keep trying all the same things our ancestors have already done—using all the same spells and potions our ancestors have used.” She turned, gesturing with her arms in her agitation. “We know we can’t keep coming at him in the same exact way they did. They've already proven those things won't work.” She eyed her. “Those spells didn’t work, either. And they’re not going to work for us!”
Tara shook her head at her. “Yea—so….” She shook her head. “What’s your point? Are you trying to get us down?"
Claire took several steps toward Tara, bending slightly, as she reached out and grabbed Tara’s arms, which were wrapped around her knees. “Don’t you see? We can’t do what they did. So, we must look for a new way—new stuff. We have to study new material—make new potions.” She began to pace. “We won’t be able to take him down using anything the coven used—nor anything our parents or grandparents used….” She spun around. “What aren’t we doing? That hasn’t been done, yet?”
Tara sat forward, watching her. “Like—maybe—Sophia’s Shamanism?”
Claire nodded.
Brows raised, Tara thought on that. Maybe we should talk to the old shaman Sophia talks about. I think his name was—White Wolf?” She snapped her fingers. “And maybe we should have someone show us some of the more Shamanic ancient potions and protection magick, while Shantra’s trying to set up that talk with the Land of the Fae.”
Claire stopped. “That’s a good idea. Let’s have Sophia check on how that meeting is coming along in the morning.”
Tara nodded, frowning at her. “You’re worried, aren’t you, Claire?”
Claire sat back down on the couch and covered up her legs with her end of the blanket. “Yeah,” she said.
“Talk to me, Claire,” Tara said.
“What?” Claire asked, her gaze unfocused as she apparently worked to pay attention to what Tara was saying to her.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Tara asked.
Claire leaned her head back on the couch, closing her eyes. “I don’t think we can beat him,” she said.
Tara’s mouth fell open, but she didn’t argue. Not when she’d already realized that herself. They all had. She moved around on the other end of the couch, trying to get more comfortable. “Why?” Tara said. “Because none of our ancestors managed to get the job done?”
Claire gave a tired sigh, and sat up, rubbing her eyes. “You hit the nail right on the head.”
Tara glanced at her. “Yeah,” she sighed. “Obviously, I’ve thought the same thing,” she said as she straightened her legs. “But I’ve and idea that this time, things will be different.” She eyed Claire. “I can’t explain it, but something tells me there’s a way—we just have to find it….”
Claire looked over at her. She sat there for a long moment. “Okay, then.” She got up. “Well, then,” she said. “We better get to bed—because tomorrow we’re going to start working our butt off to find it.”
Tara nodded, getting up. “There you go,” she encouraged. Arm in arm, they headed off to bed.
When they got to Claire’s room, Tara said, “Good night, Claire.” She hugged her friend. “If it’s there—we’ll find it. I swear.”
Claire nodded. “Night, Tara. See you in the morning.”
Tara giggled. “It’s already morning.”
Claire winced. “Then, see you in a bit.” Tara grinned and went off to bed.