by Kelly Moran
Ceara didn’t bat an eyelash. “You weren’t raised with us, weren’t shown our ways. I understand this is crazy talk to you, but it’s not. There are a few of our kind left in the world. True witches with power. We keep our craft a secret, and with good reason. You, sister, are one of us. You’re part of a long bloodline that holds magick.”
“Uh-huh.” If Kaida distracted them somehow, she might have enough time to get out the door. It would take eons to run back to the hotel and collect her things, but what was the alternative? Stay here and risk them possibly hurting her? They didn’t seem violent, but whack was whack. And this was the very definition of insane. “Do I just wrinkle my nose and poof? Magic? Do we fly around on broomsticks?”
Guilt immediately consumed her. She was a well-educated woman. She’d spent a great deal of time teaching others who joked about the Wiccan practices to respect the ways. Yet here she was, the worst offender.
“I never had to wrinkle my nose.”
Ceara sent Fiona a baleful glance and refocused on Kaida. “You have a PhD in Religion, your primary focus being Paganism and Witchcraft. Don’t you think that’s interesting? Out of all the fields of educational study, those were the ones that called to you.”
And there went the hairs on her nape again. “How did you know that?”
“We’ve kept track of you, watched over you from a distance.”
“Right. I see. You’re not just crazy. You’re stalkers, too.” Kaida placed her hands on the table to rise, but Fiona held out her palm in a plea for her to stay. Reluctantly, Kaida sat back in her chair.
Strangest part? Concern and anger were one thing, fear was another. Not once since she’d arrived had she been afraid. Even now, with the current discussion on the burner, she wasn’t scared. Should be, but wasn’t.
“Have you felt different all your life? It didn’t matter how many family or friends surrounded you, did it? There was still an emptiness inside you. A hole, of sorts. One that never fills.” Fiona sighed. “We understand. And I’m willing to bet you have a kind of sixth sense, yes? An ability read people or their moods, not understanding how. Let’s go with instinct and call it that.”
Unable to move, Kaida stared at them.
Fiona opened her mouth to continue, but the jingle of a cell ringer broke the silence. She pulled a phone from her pocket, glanced at the screen, then looked at Ceara. “It’s Riley.” Her gaze met Kaida’s. “Did you check in at the hotel under Galloway?”
“Yes. That’s my name.” What was she supposed to do? Assume a fake identity? And who was Riley?
“Take the call.” Ceara’s expression shut down. “Hold them off as long as you can.”
A trace of apprehension lit Fiona’s eyes as she shared a look with Ceara. “I’ll be right back.” Swiping the screen, she stepped out of the room.
Ceara offered Kaida a faint smile. “This is a lot for you to take in.”
“You have no idea.” Did they not realize how insane this sounded? Hey, sister. I know we just met, but welcome home. Sorry our family kicked you off the island and abandoned you while you were a baby. It’s because we’re witches and you’re part of a curse...
“Around puberty, probably age sixteen, did unusual things begin to happen to you?” Calm as a summer lake, Ceara looked Kaida in the eye, held her gaze. “It would’ve started small. A candle lighting by itself. Flowers blooming when they otherwise seemed dead. A stiff wind inside a closed car.”
The air seeped from Kaida’s lungs, and she grew light-headed. Prickles of awareness poked her skin. Her chest tightened and her heart pounded so loud, she was shocked her new sister couldn’t hear it.
“That’s when it starts, when our power activates.” Ceara’s gentle, soothing voice did little to pacify Kaida’s panic. “For some, it happens earlier, but most witches begin the change at sixteen. In my case, I accidentally started my homework on fire because I was stuck on an algebra equation. Math is evil. I was frustrated. The amp of emotion set it off. Luckily, I was in my bedroom at the time and not in school.”
She shrugged. “And I was expecting it any day, the surge. I knew all along what I was, what I’d become. It still scared me to death. I can only imagine how frightened you must’ve been.”
Kaida shook her head even as hot tears splashed onto her cheeks. She had been different all her life. She had felt empty. These strange anomalies had started when she’d turned sixteen. Part of her had come here to seek answers, to find out what was wrong with her. To search for her family, yes, but not only that. She needed to know who—or what—she was.
Fiona stepped into the room, pocketing her cell. “The Meath boys want to talk. They know something’s up. I pushed them off until tomorrow night. Seven o’clock in the woods, by the clearing.”
Rubbing her eyes, Ceara released a quiet breath. “All right. We can’t avoid them forever.”
Fiona looked between the two of them before settling on Ceara. “We need to show her. There’s no way we can send her into a meeting with them unless she has an idea of what to expect.”
“I agree.” Ceara shifted her eyes to Kaida. “Before you knew you were a witch, you studied our kind and our history. Your instincts led to you to that, to this, to us. If you look within yourself, your nature should be of no surprise. The four elements are where we get our power, gifted to us. Up until now, that was theory or speculation on your part. Something you read in books. Trust me, trust us when we say it’s not fiction.” She closed her eyes a brief beat and reopened them. “Aunt Mara is earth. I am fire.”
She held out her hand, palm up, where a...flame hovered. A perfectly cylindrical ball of fire. Out of thin air. It wasn’t possible, yet Kaida could feel the minor heat from across the table.
Rapidly shoving from her seat, she stood on shaky legs while a vise squeezed her lungs.
“And I am air.” Fiona lifted her finger, swirled it.
Wind teased the hair on Kaida’s neck, raised the strands off her back until they were standing straight out from her head.
“Oh God.” Shaking, she tried to dial back her shock, keep her emotions in check, but the telltale crackle in her chest told her it was a losing battle. Her control was slipping.
Ceara and Fiona glanced from Kaida to the table in unison, where all three mugs were sitting. Except the tea was now floating above the rims. Small waves drifted toward her, like she were playing a flute and the liquid was music. Once it crossed the space to her, the fluid stopped midair, and then splashed onto the floor.
Silence hung. Time ticked by.
Finally, Fiona crossed her arms. “I take that to mean your element is water.”
Chapter Four
Brady’s knee bounced incessantly from his perch in Tristan’s office while he waited for Riley’s call with Fiona to connect.
All week, he’d had this niggling sensation something was coming. Between the frequent dreams of Kaida and the restlessness in his gut, he was ready to bust his seams. And to learn she was not only real, but here on the island was an oh-shit of epic proportions.
“Hey, Fi. It’s Riley.”
Brady exchanged a worried glance with Tristan across the desk.
“Great, you?” Riley nodded. “Listen, I’m with my brothers. Can I put you on speaker? Thanks.” He pulled the phone from his ear and tapped the screen. “Okay, Fi. You’ve got all three of us.”
“Hey, boys. How goes it?” Fiona Galloway’s sultry voice slithered into the enclosed room like a fog. For as long as Brady could recall, she had a way of getting a man to stand at attention just by moving her lips.
Tristan leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “We had a guest check in today. She has an interesting last name. Anything you want to tell us?”
“Not particularly.”
Brady got up and paced, unable to sit still any longer. Leave it to Fiona to play a cat and mouse game. He would’ve sworn the woman was a reincarnation of Holly Golightly, but this wasn’t a Capote novel, no matter her resemblance
to Hepburn. He so didn’t have the patience for her right now.
“Cut the crap, Fiona.” Tristan’s hard jaw ticked. “Who is Kaida Galloway?”
“So testy.” She clicked her tongue. “Maybe it’s time to switch to decaf. Perhaps a rose quartz crystal in your work space to relieve tension? We sell them at the shop.”
Tristan hissed through his teeth, eyes seething, but Riley made a slashing motion with his hand to shut him up.
“Hey, Fi. We’re just wondering, that’s all. The Galloways don’t typically check into the hotel if you get family on the island to visit. Is she a cousin or something?”
“Or something.” Glib, Fiona’s middle name.
Brady wore tread patterns on Tristan’s carpet while his oldest brother shoved a hand through his hair as if wanting to yank it out.
“I’m sending Aunt Mara over sometime today to pick up Kaida’s things. She’s checking out. Charge the room to our store if it’s a problem.”
There went Brady’s back-up plan to knock on Kaida’s hotel room door tonight. Not that he had any clue what he’d planned to do once she answered.
“What’s going on, Fi? Come on, talk to me.” Riley scratched his jaw. “What’s with all the cloak and dagger?”
Ever the peacemaker. For the first time in memory, Brady was glad of Riley’s remote friendliness with the sisters.
A resigned, long-winded sigh emitted through the speaker. “We do need to chat, the six of us. Soon.” She paused, and Brady’s ulcers grew ulcers. “Let’s just say it’s of grave importance that we do. Tomorrow night. Seven o’clock. The clearing in the woods. That way we’re out of eyesight from islanders. Oh, and Tristan? Leave your attitude at home.”
Riley frowned at his phone, then shoved it in his pocket. “Well, that was informative.”
“Attitude, my ass. I’m not the one who can’t answer a basic damn question.” Tristan shoved both hands in his hair this time and fisted the strands. “I absolutely will not meet them there, either. No way in hell.”
“Afraid she’s gonna turn you into a frog?”
“Enough.” Brady dragged a deep breath into his lungs, unsure how he was going to make it thirty hours before he got answers. He didn’t need his brothers fighting on top of it. “If she’s not their cousin, who is she?”
They stared at one another, three mute idiots with no direction.
“You’ve seen her. We haven’t.” Riley’s throat bobbed in a swallow. “Any resemblance to Fiona or Ceara?”
Brady conjured Kaida to mind, all the times he’d encountered her in dreams and the brief blip he’d caught of her outside the library. She had caramel blonde hair, unlike Fiona’s dark brown waves or Ceara’s auburn ringlets. Her eyes weren’t quite the same shade, but they were blue. The nose and...
“Crap.” Brady closed his lids, fought a wave of dizziness. “Blue eyes, same nose, and the same mouth.” He looked at his brothers. “Those unmistakable Galloway lips. Aside from her hair and a different facial shape, she could be...” He left the ridiculous statement hanging.
“On my sword collection, if you were thinking sister, I might kill you.” Riley waited, staring, staring. But Brady couldn’t deny the accusation. “Oh Jesus.”
“Praying’s not going to help.” Tristan set his fists on the desk and leaned into them. “They don’t have a sister. We’d know if they did.”
“Would we?” Riley stood and paced to the window. “Because they’re so forthcoming with info, right? Our families are thick as thieves, open as a book with one another.”
Tristan’s face registered a four out of five on the touché scale. “Where’s she been all this time, then? For all we know, she’s an uncle’s friend’s cousin’s former maid.”
Riley rolled his eyes. “Who just so happens to look like Fiona and Ceara?”
“We’ll find out tomorrow.” Brady rubbed the dull ache in his chest. “The clearing is neutral territory, and we’re all going.” He shook his head when Tristan opened his mouth to argue. “All three of us, we’re going. Something is wrong. You know it. I know it. If you want to deny it, fine. Do so after the meeting.”
His cell pinged a text. He glanced at the message from his assistant Jessica and frowned.
You’re needed at the courthouse renovation. Something about cornice pieces.
“I have to go.” Brady glanced at Riley, then Tristan. “If for no other reason, do it for me. I need you there and I need answers.” His brother’s eyes softened in reserved understanding. “I was a kid when I first saw her. Think about that, about how crazy this seems. Man, Tristan. She wasn’t a dream, after all.”
Shoulders slumped, Tristan moved around the desk and pulled Brady to him for a quick hug. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll be there for you. Of course, I will.” He grabbed Brady’s shoulders. “If either one of them turns me into a frog, though, you’re stuck running the hotel. Remember that.”
Brady laughed. And just like that, his world righted. All their lives, it had been them three against the world. All he ever had to do was turn, and one of his brothers was there. They razzed each other and had very different personalities, yet they clicked. There wasn’t anyone he loved or trusted more.
“Thank you.” Brady hugged Riley, too, for the hell of it, then walked to the door. “I’ll see you at home later.”
For now, he had work to do, and he was eternally grateful for it. Anything to keep his mind off a certain blonde. Or curses. Or dreams turned reality.
*~*~*
Under the pretense of “getting some air,” Kaida followed her sisters outside through a different kitchen door than they’d entered and to an eight-foot border hedge that had a gate. Once through to the other side, she stopped dead, her lungs backing up.
It was the meadow clearing. The one she’d dreamed about all her life. After everything she’d encountered today, she shouldn’t be surprised, but shock faltered her steps. To the right was the cliff ledge, towering thirty stories above the Atlantic. Just like in her dreams, long grass was teeming with buttercups and bluebells. To the left, a large hill rose, blocking part of the view to town from the elevation highpoint.
Unlike in her dreams, though, ahead was a cemetery that hugged the other cliff ledge. She couldn’t make out much from this distance, but it had a wrought-iron fence and a massive angel statue in the center. Flush against the hedge border was a small stone cottage with a thatched roof. The very one shown to her for the first time in sleep last night.
“Is everything all right?”
Kaida glanced at Ceara, then the clearing again. “I’ve dreamed about this place since I was a girl.”
Fiona nodded as if she’d known that tidbit. “Aunt Mara casted a spell when you were taken off the island so you would be called back here one day.”
More manipulation. “A spell,” Kaida said through a laugh. “Of course. What was I thinking?” She pressed a hand to her forehead. If this place, this spot from her dreams was real, what else was, too? Could...Brady be a living, breathing person, as well?
While sunlight filtered through a thin cloud cover, they walked to the cliffs and silently gazed at the water. The three of them stood shoulder-to-shoulder like a beacon calling the white-capped waves to shore. An elemental sense of rightness filled her, tightened her throat.
“We have premonitions also. You’re not the only one.” Ceara smiled serenely as if trying to calm Kaida. “We have other gifts, but they vary from one to another. Your visions seem to be of the present and appear to you in dreams. Fiona’s are of the past and she gets them by meditating. Mine are of the future and come whenever they like, most often from touching an object.”
Kaida thought that over, dissected the words. It was hard to argue the statement when she was standing smack in the middle of proof. She had dreamed about this place and it was real. In the kitchen, both her sisters had shown her their...powers. Thus, Kaida’s anomalies of moving things with her mind, especially water, didn’t seem so crazy now. Or,
well, less crazy.
Witches. Actual witches. And she came from a long line of them.
She’d been pulled toward religion and Wiccan practices in her studies, had based her PhD on it, had taught college courses and gave lectures on the matter. Ceara had been correct in what she’d said in the kitchen. By all appearances, every thought and action and dream had been leading Kaida here. To family. To her history.
“What are your dreams like? What do you see?”
Kaida thought over Ceara’s question and debated her phrasing. She’d never discussed her dreams with anyone before. “They started when I was young. Eight or so. They’re always the same and look just like this, except the cottage and cemetery are absent. I used to get them infrequently, but as I got older, they increased.”
Seemingly interested, Ceara nodded for Kaida to continue.
“That’s about it, really. Sometimes I look out at sea, sometimes I just wander around. I know I’m dreaming when it happens, and there’s an overwhelming sense of...security while I’m here.”
“Ever see anyone?”
“No.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, and judging by the lift in Ceara’s brows, her sister suspected Kaida wasn’t being truthful. Curses and powers aside, she wasn’t ready or willing to discuss Brady. Not yet. “I’m not sure I understood where I was or the significance, just that I liked it here. Last night was the first time I saw her, though. A woman. She had an Irish accent, long red hair, and wore peasant clothes. She told me it was time for me to return and, in a blink, you two were present, kneeling beside the cottage. I didn’t see your faces, but it was definitely you two.”
“Celeste.” Fiona’s eyes widened and she exchanged a look with Ceara. “She’s never appeared to us before.”
“Maybe she thought Kaida needed guidance.”
Wait. Were they trying to tell her, have her believe, that the Celeste Galloway, the very one who’d supposedly cursed two prominent families and had been dead for centuries, was the woman in Kaida’s dream?
“Our distant cousins Aunt Mara sent you to were supposed to teach you about our lineage before you came into your powers.” Fiona sighed, part weary, all frustration. “Obviously, they didn’t. They don’t have the gift, but I can’t believe they left you hanging in the wind that way.”