“Let me do a screen shot.” She tapped away again, and a moment later said, “I just e-mailed you the screen shot. I also e-mailed it to myself. We can print it out later. Let’s see . . . who is listed here . . .”
And then I saw—Duvall Fellwater. “Duvall. Only there’s a D after his name. Deceased. The D stands for deceased, I’ll bet you anything.”
Peggin leaned over my shoulder. “Who else is there?”
“Well, Leon and Heathrow Edgewater, for one thing. Hmm . . . the other cronies Duvall hung around with are all here. Some names I recognize from high school, but mostly I don’t remember any of them.”
“Is Corbin there?”
I scanned through the listings. “No. Neither is Bryan. Wait—Ellia’s mother—Magda! Magda Volkov is listed here. There can’t be two of them in the same small town. And no D, which means . . . Magda is still alive and she’s connected with this group.”
Peggin frowned. “Penelope and Ellia are sisters, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that much I figured out through my grandmother’s journal. Ellia hasn’t bothered to mention that little fact to me yet. I’m not sure if she thinks I already know, or if she just doesn’t want to talk about it. She has to know I’ll find out sooner or later. But whatever the case . . . yes, Ellia’s mother is a member of this organization and appears to still be alive. This listing has to be fairly up-to-date, given Duvall hasn’t been dead all that long.”
“Cú Chulainn . . . he was a legendary warrior, right?” Peggin jabbed at her glasses. “Celtic?”
I nodded. “I think he may have something to do with the Morrígan. Now, I really want to talk to Aidan Corcoran.” A pause—“My real grandfather.”
“See if he’s got a phone number or listing. You said Ivy said he was in Seattle, right?”
So I typed in his name and the city name, and within seconds I was facing a phone number plastered across my screen. “Do I dare call him?”
“I don’t see why not. He may be a shapeshifter and long-lived, but, Kerris, you need to find out everything you can before . . . anything else happens.” Peggin let out a small squeak. “Do it—and soon. I have a feeling . . .”
“Another feeling, huh? All right.”
I pulled out my phone but it was on the last bar, so I plugged it in and reached for the landline. As I dialed the number, I held my breath as it began to ring. A moment later, “Hello?”
“Hi . . . is this Aidan Corcoran?” How the hell was I going to dive into this? I had no clue what the hell to say.
“Speaking. How may I help you?”
I glanced at Peggin, who nodded to me. “You don’t know me, but my name is . . . Kerris Fellwater. I live in Whisper Hollow, and I’m the granddaughter of Lila Fellwater. I’m Tamil’s daughter.”
Silence. Then, “Oh.” Another pause. “You know, then?”
And just like that, he knew exactly what I was calling about. It was in his voice; it was hovering in the air between us.
“You’re my grandfather, aren’t you?”
Aidan cleared his throat. Finally, he spoke. “Yes, I’m your grandfather. If you know that, then . . .”
“Duvall is dead. So is Lila . . . they died in a car crash last week. The Lady took them. I came home to Whisper Hollow to take up my grandmother’s work.”
More silence. “What about your mother? Tamil? Didn’t she follow in Lila’s footsteps?” His voice strained as he said their names and right then I understood that he didn’t know. He didn’t know that Tamil was gone.
I worried my lip, then let out a slow breath. “My mother disappeared when I was three. I think she was murdered.”
There was absolute silence for yet another long moment. Then Aidan let out a soft sigh. “I feared something like that might happen. I wanted to go back, I wanted to protect the both of them—it was my job. But Lila refused to allow me to return. I had to abide by her wishes. I never got to meet my daughter.” The sorrow in his voice was tangible.
I tried to absorb the fact that I was talking to my true grandfather. That Duvall had been a pale substitute. It was a relief to realize that his blood was not mine. Somehow, it made things easier to handle, knowing that the man who had been so cruel hadn’t actually been my own blood.
When Aidan spoke again, his voice contained a whispered urgency. “Kerris, the danger’s not over. You’ll be their next target, if my guess is right. I’ll do my best to fight my way back. I never thought I’d darken the roads of Whisper Hollow again, but now . . . Tamil needed me and I stayed away because I thought it would help her. I was wrong—I should have been there, to guard Lila and my daughter. Maybe . . . maybe I can make up for that.”
At first I thought, no—he’d be an old man, too old to help. But then I remembered, he was a shapeshifter. “I left when I was eighteen. I just got back.”
He sounded all business now. “I’ll contact you shortly. I’m going to drive up and meet you. I need a little while to make arrangements. Just be careful who you trust. The Hounds have eyes everywhere.” And with that, he hung up.
I stared at the phone, not knowing what to think or to say. “He’s coming back. He sounds worried and told me to be careful who I trust.” I looked over at Peggin. “The fact that he’s so concerned that he’s coming back to Whisper Hollow after all these years frightens me, to be honest. He said that I’m going to be ‘their’ next target, but he wouldn’t say who they were.”
Before I could say anything else, my phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID. Bryan. “Hey, how are you?” As I answered, I realized that I sounded like all those women I tended to snicker at. But truth was, I was happy to hear from him.
“Hi there, gorgeous.”
I blinked. Not many people called me that, and he sounded like he meant it. “Can you come over? Peggin’s here. I have a lot to tell you . . . and a favor to ask you.”
“I’ll be there in twenty as soon as I clean up. I helped mop up after a nasty accident at a friend’s store today. Don’t ask—you don’t want to know. It just necessitates a lot of soap and water and scrubbing.”
Feeling slightly flirty, I asked, “You’re a dirty boy, huh?”
He snorted, and then his voice dropped, low and sultry and beckoning. “Kerris, if you knew what was going through my mind all day, after this morning, you’d see just how dirty.”
“You promise to tell me later?” Once again, my breath slipped away and I felt a keen ache. Hunger . . . it was actually a hunger to feel his hands on me, to hear his breath—slow and easy—near my ear. My nipples stiffened, brushing against the lace of my bra, and I felt ripe for the picking. “Please, promise me.”
A pause, then—“Oh, it’s a promise. I want you, and when I get over there, I’m going to take you in my arms and kiss you. And later on, I’m going to explore every inch of you, from head to toe, if you’ll invite me in.” And with that, he hung up.
I stared at the phone in my hand, my throat dry. My body felt like it was on fire, and all of a sudden I wanted water to put out the heat that slaked through me. I pulled a bottle from the fridge and drank deep, the cool liquid calming my nerves as it raced down my throat.
Peggin stared at me, a grin on her face. “I don’t have to ask how it’s going between you and Mr. Shapeshifter. That’s obvious on your face.”
Wiping my mouth, I drank again until I had finished the bottle, then let out a long sigh. I slid the fish fillets into the oven and began fixing a salad to go with them. “Peggin, he’s my match. He’s my guardian. We figured that out last night, after the Shadow Man attacked me.”
She sucked in a slow breath. “I wondered, after that scene in the hospital. So you’ve found the third part to your triad.” A loud thump hit the roof and then skidded across it. “What the hell?”
“Wind’s picking up.” I glanced outside only to see, over the fence dividing our properties, a large gust whale
on one of the trees in Bryan’s yard. It bent the maple—a sapling—almost in two before letting the branches go singing back into place. “Another gust or two like that and the limbs will be flying off the trees. We’re set up for a blow.”
“Yeah. Well, look on the bright side.” Peggin shivered. “It’s the perfect night to go visit Penelope.”
“Yeah, I’d say so.” I continued to stare out the window. Something out there was calling to me, and I had no idea what. I slowly moved to the door and opened it. As I edged out onto the cement patio, I realized that I had yet to come out and explore the backyard.
As I glanced around, I saw a tangle of vegetation. Highly unlike Lila to leave it in disarray. Even though she had been gone only a week, it looked like months of growth had overcrowded the yard. The rose arbor, behind a white wooden lattice fence and an overreaching trellis that arched over the entry, was covered with drooping vines—not ivy, but some other plant that had taken over and now lay heavy and sodden across both fence and arch.
A gust of wind hit me full force, nearly blowing me off my feet. Steadying myself on the edge of the patio table, I eased forward, listening with every sense I could muster. The howl of the wind overshadowed whatever noises might be hiding in the dark, but as my eyes adjusted, I realized that a fine mist was rolling along the backyard.
“This isn’t healthy.” Peggin had followed me out. She was standing by the screen door, making certain it was closed so the cats wouldn’t be able to get out. “The mist—it’s tainted.”
She was right. The mist boiled along the ground low and thick and had taken on a faint greenish hue—not a healthy growing green, but the green of sickness and disease. I started to close my eyes but stopped. It wasn’t safe. I knew it in my gut. I needed to keep all my senses, including sight, on high alert. Instead, I reached out with my mind, tried to intuit what lay beneath the mist and rolling fog.
Loss . . . and anger. A flash of irritation—it was so much harder now. Why couldn’t things work out the way they were supposed to? Why did that goddamn shapeshifter have to move next door? It was an upset in the plan . . . a plan that had already gone awry so many times it curved more than the Elwha River.
The voices in the mist paused and I realized that I had been listening in on a conversation. They certainly weren’t my thoughts. The thought crossed my mind that the last thing I wanted was to develop late-blooming telepathy. But my attention was brought back to focus by a darting movement from my right.
“Stay back,” I warned Peggin. “Get ready to run inside if something happens.”
“You’re not making me feel any safer. What the hell are you going to do?”
“I’m going to walk into the tangle over there, where the rose arbor used to be. I think . . . whatever this is, it’s emanating from that area and I want to find out what the hell is going on.”
“Kerris Fellwater, don’t you dare—” But Peggin’s warning was cut off by a sudden, sharp cawing from the tree above.
Stop . . . stop . . . the crow shrieked. Go back before it catches you.
With a sudden burst, the rolling mist churned toward me. It was searching for something, probing my energy. I stumbled back a step. “Who’s there? What do you want?”
You, Kerris Fellwater. We want you, and we’re coming for you. Whisper Hollow will be ours. Leave now or we’ll make certain you truly follow in your mother’s footsteps. As the mist touched my skin, it began to burn like a cold fire, and I let out a long scream.
CHAPTER 13
A loud growl emerged from the shadows and the next thing I knew, a giant wolf leaped over the fence and knocked me back, sending me out of the mist. The creature was beautiful—a brilliant white wolf with gleaming blue eyes.
Bryan. I was able to get a better look at his wolf form than I had at the hospital. He was huge—almost the size of a small pony. And his fur was silky, glowing with a faint blue sheen. His eyes were ice blue, ringed with black—haunting and filled with years of living. He turned back to the mist and snarled.
“Peggin—get my bag, hurry! It’s in the kitchen.” I took a step back, cautious to stay clear of the toxic fog. Bryan growled again as the mist crept forward, but it had slowed, as if it had suddenly become cautious.
“Here!” Peggin had hold of my bag, panting from her mad dash into the house. She looked petrified but stood her ground as she held it out, opening the clasp for me.
I had no clue what I needed, but as I thrust my hand inside, my fingers lit on the dagger and I instinctively grabbed for it. “Stand back, but near enough in case I need something else.” I unsheathed the dagger and tossed her the leather sheath. She caught it and edged back.
Turning to the mist, I thrust the dagger into the air. I struggled to remember the runes I had drawn that afternoon. What were they? Oh yes . . . first . . . a lightning bolt through a hockey stick. I swept the dagger through the air, drawing the sigil. Then I drew the next—the arrow through the crescent. Lastly, I envisioned the cauldron and drew an outline of it in the air, then an outline of the skull in its center. I realized that I had closed my eyes when I heard Peggin gasp.
“Look!”
I opened them quickly, just in time to see the runes floating in the air in front of me. They were a brilliant blue, and glowing. Focusing on them, I quickly ran over what I remembered. They were the runes of the Void, the runes of the abyss. So maybe they could eat up whatever this was. As I mentally pushed them forward, they began to move toward the mist’s direction.
The vapor came to a stop. The runes shot forward, hitting the mist square center, sizzling as they exploded in a bright shower of sparks. With a last pop, they vanished, taking the fog along with them.
The patio flooded with light. Blinking, I realized that Peggin had gone inside and hit the light switch. As I turned back to Bryan, he was standing there, tall as life, all signs of his inner wolf gone. The reality of what had just happened hit then, and without a word, I walked over and he wrapped his arms around me, kissing the top of my head as I leaned against him, shaking.
“Watch the dagger, love,” he whispered.
I struggled to smile, making certain the point was away from him. “Don’t want to stick you with this,” I whispered.
He held me tight. “I’ll protect you. Trust me, Kerris. I’ll watch over you.”
My heart beat a staccato tattoo as Bryan nuzzled my ear. “What the hell was that?”
“Dark magic, my love. Someone was trying to hurt you.” He lifted my chin to look into my eyes. “I’m here, Kerris.”
“I know.” I glanced into the gloom. “It’s really gone?”
“You appear to have dispelled it. But we have to figure out what’s going on. Let’s get you inside, you’re freezing.” As he bundled me into the kitchen, I glanced once more over my shoulder. The wind was still raging and the rain had started up, but the unhealthy mist had vanished from the yard.
I locked the door. Peggin was already heating water for tea—for once she didn’t seem to want more coffee and neither did I—and my bag was on the table. I sheathed the dagger, replaced it in the bag, and set it aside. Bryan shrugged out of his jacket and hung it over the back of one of the chairs. Peggin brought three cups, the teapot, and honey and lemon to the table, and then she pulled the fish out of the oven. I silently set three plates on the table, along with silverware, and the salad and then sat down.
We sat there, staring at one another, still speechless.
Finally, Peggin broke the silence. “Who do you know can work magic like that?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know anybody. I’ve been gone too long.” I stared into my cup, the tea shimmering under the light. I added a little more honey, listening to the sound of the spoon as it clinked delicately against the china. My grandmother had prided herself on her teapots. She had a half dozen: one for every season, one for Christmas, and one match
ing her good china. Peggin had chosen the autumn one, a delicate shade of tan with whirls of color—orange pumpkins, black cats, and swirling leaves painted along the sides.
“Well, someone knows you’re back and isn’t happy about it, that much we can assume.” Bryan helped himself to the chips that were still on the table.
“We’d better figure it out soon, then.” I looked up at Bryan. His expression was one of worry, but in his eyes, I could still see the desire—the heat—flaring in those alpine pools. “Peggin and I had planned to go meet Penelope tonight, to ask her about my mother. I still want to do that. Will you go with us?”
Bryan sighed. “Of course, you know I will. Are you taking Ellia—”
“No!” Peggin was quicker than I was. At Bryan’s startled look, she shook her head. “There’s something going on, Bryan, and you know it. I can feel it. The whole town’s on edge. Till we find out who’s involved and what it is, Kerris needs to pick and choose who she tells her secrets to.”
“But you trust me?” A smile danced at the corner of his lips.
Peggin blushed. “I know about you. I know who you are. So yes, I trust you. I trust you to watch out for her, especially after . . . well . . . after Diago, and after that mist just now.”
He laughed then, a loud, hearty laugh that broke the tension in the room. “As wise as you are pretty.” But when he said it, there was nothing attached to it and I smiled softly, happy to see my best friend connecting with the man who was so quickly stealing my heart.
“Do we get to eat first?” Bryan asked. “Or should we head out now?”
“Since dinner’s on the table, eat first. It’s only five thirty. We have time.”
While we ate, I filled Bryan in on the day, including my encounter with the Crow Man, my visit to Ivy’s, the hidden room, the journals, the locket, and the Cú Chulainn’s Hounds website.
He picked over his salad. “What do you know about Magda? Penelope and Ellia’s mother? What kind of powers does she have?”
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