by Lenore Wolfe
THRITY-NINE
TARA
Tara searched the woods for Drake, from where she sat on the back deck. She searched, squinting, trying to see that far, but, so far, she saw nothing but Thorick and Sophia, who were finally on their way back. That didn’t change the fact, she knew Drake still lurked out there somewhere, watching her.
She could feel him.
She knew, as much as she stared at the woods, searching for him, he sat, watching her. Furthermore, she knew he’d come to her room, on more than one occasion, although she hadn’t managed to get him to show himself. The only thing she couldn’t figure out—was how he did it. And she hadn’t worked up the courage to ask Sophia.
She sat, determined now, that she would ask her tonight.
Tara scanned the woods, one more time, as Thorick and Sophia came up on the back deck, and got up and followed them into the manor. The cold drove them inside. She couldn’t believe how much the temperatures dropped these past few weeks. At this rate, they were going to have an early winter—and Tara sure didn’t look forward to that. She found it hard enough to stay focused.
They wanted to celebrate. But, first, she could barely keep her mind off a certain Elf Warrior. And, second, they all agreed, they didn’t dare let up. They needed to prepare—now—more than ever. They were too new at this, with too much catching up to do.
They hadn’t known if they could take Dante down—but they’d done just that—though they wouldn’t know for awhile if it were permanent. Even if it weren’t—Thorick assured them it would take him a very long time for him to recover.
Though, they’d almost destroyed themselves, along with him.
They’d found a power they never knew they held. A power, that was there inside them, as the Book of Shadows, had said, but they held little control over it.
They weren’t stupid. They knew they couldn’t relax. They didn’t dare, because they’d opened a whole can of worms, in enemies, and they knew it. They’d destroyed a powerful warlock. How many other powerful beings would come after them, just to test that fact? How many of them would do so, out of revenge? Especially, now their enemies knew Dante hadn’t stopped the witches from calling the Daughters, after all. How many of them would come just to prove who held more power?
They’d just become the power to beat.
Tara walked through the manor, looking for Claire. As always, she found her in the attic. By now, you’d think she’d search for her there, first. But, then, she always felt foolish for skipping all the floors on the way up.
Tara walked up to where she sat at the round, oak table and standing beside her. “Claire?” she said.
Claire glanced up, from where she read an old book on herbs. “Hey,” she said. “What’s up?”
Shaking her head, Tara plopped down in a chair near her. She just sat there, deep in thought, watching her work for several long moments. Finally, she eyed Claire. “You know—you look pretty tired, Claire.”
Claire gave her a wan smile. “Yeah,” she said. “I can’t seem to shake the feeling we’re in more danger than ever,” she said.
Tara nodded, her lips thinning. “You, too? I think we all feel it. That’s what I came to talk to you about. I think we’ve become the human equivalent of a bulls-eye.”
Claire wrinkled her nose at her. “Have we decided then, we’re not human?” she asked.
“Hmmm,” Tara said. “Do you know any humans who could tap into all that power?”
Claire’s brows shot up. “Now that you mention it….”
Tara smiled wanly. “I think we’ve become the Wild West equivalent of a fast gun,” she said.
“The one to beat,” Claire said, “if you want to be known as the fastest gun around?” She wrinkled her nose at her. “You mean that gun?”
Tara nodded. “That would be the one,” she said.
Claire twisted her lips. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound good, does it?”
Tara shook her head. “Nope. Not at all.”
Claire sat there, thinking. “Hmmm, we might be in more trouble than any of us anticipated,” she agreed.
Tara watched her for a long moment. “So, any clue what we’re going to do about it?”
Claire considered that. “I think we’d better get some warriors to start training us, for starters.”
Tara nodded. “That’s a good idea.”
They glanced up when Sophia and Morgan came in the door. Hearing the last, as Sophia came over to sit down at the table, she added, “My mother wants to have some old witches, who’ve gone to live in the Land of the Fae, train us on how to better manage our power.”
Claire and Tara looked at her in surprise. “That would be wonderful,” Tara said.
Morgan sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs. “I’m terrified of it.”
Claire regarded her and nodded. “I’m a bit afraid of how much power you could tap into, myself,” she lightly teased.
Tara eyed Claire in surprise. She turned, to look at Morgan. “That, was you?” Her brows shot up, turning back, to stare at Claire. “I’m a bit confused. I thought she connected with your power—and that’s why she felt like she could have killed us.”
“She did,” Claire answered. “It would seem, she tapped into an entire universe of power, though the Goddesses.”
Morgan nodded.
Tara scrutinized Claire.
“Don’t look at me,” Claire said, putting a hand over her chest. “I tapped into some, but it would seem that I’m here more to focus her power. I’m not the one who called it down.”
“Wow!” Tara said. She studied Morgan. Morgan seemed terrified.
Tara got up and went over to sit in one of the other overstuffed chairs, next to Morgan. Taking one of her hands in hers, she said. “Morgan, I’d be terrified, too, after what happened. But the truth is,” she implored her friend’s dark gaze, “he would have killed us—every single one of us—if it hadn’t been for you.”
Morgan gazed at her, tears shimmering in her eyes.
“We’ll help you control it,” Claire said, coming to sit on the other side of her.
Sophia sat down on the table in front of Morgan. “Yeah,” she said, “Think of us as your anchors.” She took four things and put them at four corners on the table. “You tap the power. Claire focuses it. We’re here to anchor the power, as Tara channels you, and I amplify what you both call down.” She looked up. “I mean—we each have individual power—yet, together, we become a mighty force for the Light.”
Morgan wrinkled her nose, but they’d managed to get a tiny smile out of her.
“Let us work with you, Sis,” Claire said. “We have to be the four branches who work together from a single tree, so to speak. But—you, sis—you’re our saving grace.”
Morgan eyed her sister. There were tears in her eyes, too, and she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “But as I already told you guys—I’ll never survive it if I accidently kill one of you.”
“You won’t,” Tara said. “Now that we know what we’re up against—we’ll prepare. We’ll be careful.”
Claire frowned, glancing up at her. “We might need it sooner than we think.”
Tara glanced at her in surprise. She noticed Claire gained the attention of her sister, and Sophia, too.
Claire’s lips thinned. “Thorick received word earlier. They’re tailing, Collin. It seems that Dante passed her off to him.”
“What?” Morgan nearly shouted.
Sophia sighed. “He probably did so because the Gargoyles were chasing him….”
Claire nodded. “That’s what Thorick thought, too.”
Tara scanned Morgan’s pale face. “They’ll find her,” she said. “We’ll get to training, right away, hon—so you gain control—so we all do.”
Morgan nodded, as Claire leaned over to put her hand on her shoulder.
Sophia nodded and grinned. “And we’ll get those old crones to help us,” she said, putting her hand out to help Morgan out of the chair. “T
hey should know a thing or two about this.”
Morgan gave a small grin, and nodded, taking her hand and letting her pull her to her feet. The four of them headed for the stairs. Sophia was laughingly teasing Morgan, telling her the Crones would probably make her live in the Land of the Fae for the rest of the winter when they found out what she’d done.
Morgan looked horrified.
Tara glanced back at the attic. Her heart yearned to find out what could come of her and Drake. But that would have to wait for another day. They had a lot of work ahead of them—especially if they had to use that power, again, together. They had a lot to learn—or risk it taking them, too.
She had to get her priorities straight. No more staring out at the woods, searching for a certain handsome Elf. She didn’t see how there could be anything between them—if the four of them got themselves killed.
“Hey, Tara!” Claire called up the stairs. “What happened to you? We’re waiting for you.”
Tara smiled. “Coming,” she yelled back.
She switched off the light—and closed the attic door.