He shook his finger at her. “You’re a naughty girl. You’ve been keeping all this power from me. That’s not very nice.”
“Um…” Leah made a face. “What’s going on here?”
“Leah, get out of the shop and lock the front door behind you. Then call my mother back and tell her Wyatt put the pendant on. Tell her to bring the coven here. We have to help him. Fast.”
Leah didn’t move. “What pendant? What’s going on?”
“Leah,” Marigold yelled. “Just do it.”
Wyatt kept advancing, trapping Marigold behind the counter. “You’re afraid of me. I can see it. I can see all of your weaknesses. You thought you might be falling for me, and now you’re afraid. It’s so sad. Boo hoo.” He rubbed at his eyes like he was crying, then sneered at her. “You’re so pathetic. So needy.”
She raised her hands even as she retreated farther, but she was reluctant to use magic against him. What if the pendant caused him to lash out? What if Wyatt got hurt because of it? “That’s just the pendant talking. I know you’re still in there, Wyatt. I’m going to get you free. I promise.”
But how? He was a human being controlled by powers that would be daunting even for her, a seasoned witch, to command. She had to figure this out. Had to save him.
After all, this was her fault. She never should have agreed to help Newt.
Newt! He’d be arriving soon. Maybe he could help get Wyatt free.
Wyatt took another step toward her. Any closer and he’d be able to touch her. She wasn’t sure what he’d do, but she didn’t want to find out. She hopped up onto the counter and scrambled over it. That put him behind the counter and her in the main area of the store. Behind her, Leah was on the phone explaining things to Corette.
She had to protect Leah. She snapped her fingers to get the woman’s attention. “Get out of here. Lock the door behind you. Go. I don’t want you hurt.”
Leah shook her head. “I’m not leaving you.” Then she pointed at the phone. “Your mother says I shouldn’t leave you either. She’s getting Pandora and Charisma and coming over. And she’s calling the rest of the coven from the car.”
Wyatt was out from behind the counter and headed for her again. “Pretty, pretty Marigold,” he purred as he moved toward her.
She lifted her hands again. “Wyatt, stay back. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He laughed long and hard. “You sweet, dumb child.” Then he spread his hands wide. “You can’t hurt me. Not now. Not with the power of the jaundiced eye flowing through me. I see your flaws. I know how to control you.”
“That pendant can’t control me.”
He dropped his hands and stalked forward. “You don’t think you can be loved, do you? Not after your ex left you alone and pregnant. So sad. Sadder still is how lonely you are. So lonely. But that’s because you’re not good enough, are you?”
His words cut into her like blades. She reminded herself that this was not the Wyatt she’d gotten to know, but the Wyatt held in the sway of some dreadful dark magic. But the pain of the truth he was speaking made her heart ache.
She lifted her chin, as determined to fight as she was not to break down. “I’m going to free you, Wyatt. I promise.”
He laughed again. “I’ve never felt this free.”
As he walked past a display of ivy topiaries, he reached out and picked up one of the large pots. It must have weighed fifty pounds, but he lifted it like it was nothing.
She braced herself for him to smash it or something, hoping he didn’t. She’d grown all of those from cuttings. Nurtured them into shapes with her magic. Stars, hearts, spheres.
He’d picked up a simple circle. He held it before him so he could look through it at her. “But you, you’re trapped, aren’t you? Trapped by your ineffectual gifts.” He snorted. “A green witch. What good is that?”
“I’ll show you,” she hissed. She lifted her hands and tapped into her magic, calling for the plants to help her. The ivy responded by snaking their tendrils forward and wrapping around him. The vines thickened and grew with such incredible speed it caught him off guard.
“Now who’s trapped?” she asked.
His only answer was a growl as he struggled, but the vines continued to mature and twine around him, pinning his arms to his sides and tying his legs together.
She urged the vines on, spilling more magic into them. Round and round him they went.
“Let me free, witch.” The anger in his voice gave it a gravelly, unnatural edge, almost like the pendant was speaking. But so far, her magic was winning because he seemed unable to break free, despite the power of the pendant.
“I don’t think so.” She pushed the vines a little more so that they knotted up and took him to the ground. He was almost mummified now, having basically become a human topiary. At last, she eased off, letting the ivy rest.
“Wow,” Leah said.
Marigold glanced at her. “I wasn’t sure what else to do.”
“I’d say that was perfect.” Leah’s eyes were wide. “Holy cannoli, that was amazing.”
“Except the pendant is still on him.” But at least he wasn’t a threat to himself or to them anymore.
She went to him. His eyes flashed with anger. The ivy had covered his mouth, muffling him. She crouched down beside him. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. But this is for the best until we can figure out how to get you free of the pendant’s magic.”
He growled out more words she couldn’t understand.
The shop door rattled.
Marigold looked up to see her mother and Pandora on the other side of the glass.
“Got it,” Leah yelled. She scrambled for the lock, letting the two women in.
“Charisma’s on her way. I also let Alice know what had happened, and she’s researching the situation.” Corette’s eyes rounded as she saw the green mummy on the floor. “Well done, Marigold. I take it he’s contained?”
“Yes.”
Wyatt growled and tried to move, but succeeded only in shaking the leaves a little.
Marigold stood. “We can’t leave him here.”
“No, we cannot.” Corette stared at him a little longer.
Marigold pointed at Leah. “Lock the door, but stay by it to let the rest of the coven in. We’ll put up a sign that says we’re closed to handle wedding business until further notice. No one in town will question that.”
“Done.” Leah went back to the door.
Then Marigold got her sister’s attention. “Pandora, grab his feet. We’ll carry him into the workroom. Mom, make that sign for the door, will you?”
Pandora hustled forward as Corette nodded and went around them to the counter. Pandora grabbed Wyatt’s feet, then dropped them and straightened. “Why not just let me levitate him back to the workroom? Move, I’ve got this.”
“No,” Marigold snapped. “We can’t. The pendant has control of him. We have no idea what will happen if we use magic on him.”
“She’s right,” Corette said.
Pandora gave them both a look. “But you wrapped him up in ivy and nothing happened, did it?”
“No, but I used my magic on the ivy, not on him. He was sort of a bystander for that.”
“Oh.” Pandora shrugged and grabbed Wyatt’s feet again. “All right. Ready when you are.”
Marigold got his shoulders. “One…two…three.” She hoisted him up as Pandora lifted.
“Wow,” Pandora said. “Your boyfriend is heavy.”
Marigold huffed out a breath. “He works out.”
They shuffle-walked him to the back room, positioning him between the two big worktables.
Pandora straightened, brushing her hands off. “Hey, are these the corsages for my wedding? They’re gorgeous. Can I see my bridal bouquet?”
Marigold put her hands on her hips. “Could we maybe deal with the evil magic that’s currently possessing my date for said wedding first?”
Pandora shrugged. “I just figured while we were waiting…”
“Back here,” Marigold answered.
Her sister walked in looking like the cover of a fashion magazine. That was standard for Charisma. No one had it together quite like her. Sleek, dark bob, perfect makeup, ivory linen pants and jacket that were somehow not wrinkled. “Hi, Mari, Pandy. Mom filled me in.”
She peeked past the table at Wyatt. “I take it that’s the poor normie stuck in the middle of this mess?”
Marigold sighed. “Yes.”
Charisma pursed her lips. Which were the perfect nude, probably because of some exclusive lipstick. “That poor man. He needs some help.”
“Which is why,” Corette announced as she joined them, “we are here.”
Marigold looked past her mom toward the front of the shop. “What about the rest of the coven?”
“Alice didn’t think alerting everyone was a good idea. Not with this kind of magic. She thinks the news about the jaundiced eye best be kept to ourselves for the moment.”
Marigold stared at her mother. “Wyatt is in desperate shape. Who cares who knows?”
Corette sighed. “I understand how you feel, but I can’t go against Alice. She’s in charge. You know that. We all know that. And Alice might be right. What if word got out and some unscrupulous person tried to take control of Wyatt in order to get the jaundiced eye? We have to protect him while we save him.”
Marigold nodded reluctantly. “I guess you’re right.”
Charisma put her arm around Marigold. “We’re going to fix this, Mari. I know you like this guy. We’re not going to let him be collateral damage. This is all going to work out.”
“Thanks.” Marigold made herself breathe calmly. Charisma’s words helped. Probably why she was such a successful life coach.
Corette’s pocket buzzed. She took her phone out and answered it. “Yes?” She looked at her daughters. “I see, Alice. Thank you. I’ll let them know.”
She hung up and tucked the phone away. “Alice knows how to break the pendant’s hold on him.” Corette hesitated, clasping and unclasping her hands. “But I don’t know how we’re going to do it.”
Marigold took a step toward her mother. “Just tell us. I’ll do anything. How do we save him?”
Corette smiled thinly. “If he was a supernatural, we’d have to perform a ritual that would strip all magic from him. It would leave him human.”
That made sense. “But since he’s already human?”
“We have to turn him into a supernatural. We have to force enough magic into him to displace that which has its hooks in him already.”
Marigold shook her head. “How do we do that? And how do we do that without his consent?”
Pandora glanced at Wyatt. “Do you think he could actually give consent? The pendant wouldn’t let him, would it?”
Marigold followed her sister’s gaze. Wyatt glared at them, his eyes the only visible part of him. “No. I don’t suppose it would. But shouldn’t he have some kind of say in the sort of supernatural he becomes?”
“It would be best if that was possible,” Corette said. “But under the circumstances, I don’t see how it could happen. Like your sister said, the pendant isn’t going to let him speak on his own behalf. We have to do this for him. And hope he understands.”
Marigold’s throat constricted, tight with emotion. And a lot of guilt. “How on earth are we going to generate enough magic to turn him into a supernatural?”
“That,” Corette said softly, “is the most difficult part of all. It must be a gift. Given selflessly. A sacrifice.”
Marigold looked at her mother. “Meaning what exactly?”
“Someone must volunteer their powers to save his life.”
There was no hesitation, no question, not even the slightest moment of doubt in Marigold’s mind. “Of course. I’m happy to do it.”
Well, maybe happy wasn’t the perfect word to describe what she was feeling, but she had no reservations that it was what she needed to do.
“Marigold.” Her mother looked at her, aghast. Her sisters seemed stricken as well.
“What?” Marigold asked. “He’s in this condition because of me. Who else is going to help him if I don’t? It’s not even a question.”
The rightness of it didn’t mean her heart wasn’t breaking over what she’d be losing. But it was absolutely what had to be done. And she was the one who had to do it.
Pandora was practically sputtering. “B-but you have a child to raise. A fledgling witch who’s going to need your guidance and direction. The kind of nurturing that only another witch can give her.”
Marigold shrugged. “I agree, so it’s a good thing I have two sisters and a mother who fit that description. And that’s why we have the mentorship program in the coven.”
“But you’re her mother,” Pandora argued.
“That’s not going to change just because I’m no longer a witch.”
Charisma shook her head. “You can’t do this, Mari. You barely know this man. That’s too much to give up for him. Even if you think you’re falling for him. There’s no guarantee he’s going to feel the same way about you once he’s transformed.”
Marigold knelt beside Wyatt. “This isn’t about my feelings for him or his feelings for me, whatever those might be. This is about doing what’s right.”
“My dear, caring child,” Corette said. “Your kindness and generosity are without question. But you need your gifts not just for your daughter, but for your business.” She gestured around the shop. “This place was built on your abilities as a green witch.”
“Then is one of you better suited to lose your powers? I don’t think so. Charisma relies on her ability to see auras to help her clients. You use your gifts to aid brides in finding their perfect dress, plus you’re the secretary of the coven. And Pandora only just got her gifts working right, so there’s no way she can be expected to give them up.”
Her mother and sisters just stood there silently. Probably because they knew she was right.
Marigold smiled to keep from crying. “My green thumb isn’t going to disappear because I can no longer speak to the flowers with my magic. I can still be a florist. My business won’t be affected very much. And Saffron has all of you to guide her.”
She put her hand on Wyatt’s ivy-covered chest. Angry magic stung her hand like wasps, but she held the contact, hoping he could feel it and understand she was there with him. And on his side. “I am the only one who can do this. And it’s my responsibility anyway. Now we’re not discussing it anymore.”
Her mother and sisters continued to hold their tongues, but the looks they were exchanging weren’t lost on Marigold. She knew they disagreed with her. But the matter was decided. She pushed to her feet. “Where are we doing this?”
Corette swallowed before she spoke. “Alice said she would handle all the setup and we should bring him to Elenora’s.”
Marigold nodded. “Then that’s what we need to do.”
Wyatt was being held underwater. That’s what it felt like anyway. Being held underwater, but being able to breathe at the same time. Sort of. He was floating. Or drowning. No, he was sinking. Into darkness.
That darkness covered him like oil and was just as impossible to be rid of. There was no freeing himself from it, no matter how hard he fought and struggled and shoved against it.
No stopping the terrible things the darkness pushed from his mouth.
And as if being deaf in one ear wasn’t bad enough, sounds were even more muffled with whatever was going on.
He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he was aware of enough to know that it wasn’t good. The darkness wasn’t just the lack of light in his world, it felt very much like a living force that was trying to wrest away his self-control.
It was winning. Not quickly, not as long as he fought. But he was ever so slowly losing his grip on…himself.
The words the darkness had caused him to say…terrible things�
��and the things he had threatened… But it wasn’t him. It was the malevolence gnawing at him. He shuddered and vowed to fight harder.
Fighting was getting more difficult, though. The reasons why he should fight were fading, replaced by an unnatural serenity. The odd calm was being induced by the dark force. He knew that. No matter how much he dug down, he couldn’t bring up the things he knew he should be feeling. Anger. Frustration. Fear.
All of those normal emotions were being held underwater with him.
There was the occasional spot of sun. Marigold.
He could see her now and then when she moved into his narrowed field of vision. She looked very far away, but he recognized her beautiful face. He’d also grasped that her mother and sister were around him. Another woman too, but he didn’t recognize her voice.
Words were hit or miss, but their tones came through. And once in a while, his name. They were talking about him. And about something very, very bad that had happened to him.
He didn’t know what that thing was exactly, but he knew what had caused it.
The pendant. That stupid piece of jewelry was to blame. Why had he picked it up? Why had he put it on? Because it had called out to him. Compelled him. He’d been powerless to stop his own movements.
That wretched pendant. Where was it? He focused on it with all of his energy and suddenly felt it around his neck.
It was the anchor weighing him down. Dragging him deeper.
And he realized with great certainty that if he hit bottom, he would never return to the surface.
That’s where life was. Where Marigold was.
He was dying.
The panic he should have felt floated away on a bubble, rising up, up, up until it popped and he forgot what emotion he’d even been thinking about.
The landscape above him changed. Lights shifted. Shadows flitted over him. He was moving. Brightness filled his vision. He was outside. The brightness faded. He was inside again. Something metal surrounded him. It smelled sweet and mechanical.
A thin grumbling sound hummed through him. A motor. The metal surrounding him was a vehicle. The flower shop’s delivery van. The women were taking him somewhere. To help him, he hoped.
The Detective Wins The Witch (Nocturne Falls Book 10) Page 16