by Mina Carter
She reached over to touch Patrick’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about anything. I won’t be too long.” Excitement shivered through her at the prospect of horseback riding, and she nearly giggled as she took Jake forward.
“Mind me now. I’ve told ye as I would my own.”
“Don’t worry, Patrick,” she tossed over her shoulder. Happiness surged through her. Oh God, it feels good to be on a horse again!
Chapter Twelve
WOODS OPENED INTO a wide field of wild flowers and rye. Absolutely stunning. Fresh air filled her nostrils, heavy with the scent of wisteria. When she looked into the distance, she found the vines heavy with blooms. Breathtaking. Jake moved like a dream under her. She should have been content. She wasn’t.
Even the beauty of the land couldn’t contain and banish her wayward thoughts. Everything in her mind made a circle and came back to Jethro McBain. Jethro this and Jethro that, top question on the list being just why had he been on that particular stretch of road at that hour last night?
Coincidence again, and Chaz just didn’t believe in so many. He had been there for a reason. She couldn’t by any means believe that he had anything to do with the heinous murder of that woman—but she needed answers that would make sense.
She looked up at the waning sun. She was headed in a northerly direction. How had that happened? She had meant to turn west at that last fork.
A whisper on the wind swirled softly around her and seemed to murmur her name and she cautiously scanned. Magic—she felt a presence in the distance. It was very bland magic, and even so, it could not make it past the wards. It hovered on the edge of Mulrone land. It was of no consequence, but it piqued her curiosity. Something was trying to draw her near.
To investigate or not? She had promised Patrick to stay away from the Mulrone estate. And yet, here she was at the northerly end of Brionn—near Mulrone.
She had promised. She took her promises seriously, but how could she turn away from this? This might lead to her parents’ killer. That left her no choice.
The magic had no power over her. However, it might serve her purpose to allow it to appear as though she was drawn by the call. She took Jake off the bridle path and into the wide girth of dark pine trees that separated Mulrone and Brionn.
The forest rang with the chirping of birds and the chattering of insects. Lovely shades of green foliage surrounded them. As she reached the Brionn line, silence fell like a gray bomb making everything frozen in time. It was as though the part of the wood directly ahead held no life, and witch strong or no, it felt downright frightening.
Confident in her abilities, Chaz knew who she was and what she could do, but, she reminded herself, so had her mother. Her mother had many strong abilities and the demon had overtaken and killed her. Her mother had not been able to save her husband or herself.
There had been someone who could have saved her, if her mother had called on him—but evidently her mother hadn’t called on him, and apparently he hadn’t been watching.
Chaz had to assume that her mother had chosen not to call on him. That meant her mother had known her husband was about to die. If that had happened, Chaz knew her mother would have given up on the spot.
Guard raised, she entered grounds laced with black magic. Her entire body recoiled from the bitter ugliness of the wicked power.
Her horse objected strenuously to the feel of Mulrone land, but Chaz walked him through the remainder of the stark wood. Jake’s agitation rose, and he threw his beautiful head from side to side and snorted with great vehemence. Chaz patted him soothingly. “Its okay, Jake, easy now. Go on…we won’t stay long. We’ll just have a look.”
Against his better judgment, Jake believed her and trudged on.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” said a deeply Irish musical voice—a voice she knew at once.
Dark X! What did Dark X have to do with Mulrone? Was he using Mulrone?
Okay, showtime. Let him think I’m enraptured. Proceeding toward the clearing and at the edge of the woods that opened onto the Mulrone estate, she saw what she had known in her heart would be there.
The grounds were lavishly landscaped. Flowering trees, trimmed bushes, and lovely rose gardens sprawled, but the mansion was altogether at odds with the grounds.
It loomed dark and misshapen, as though someone had built upon ruins without doing the repairs first. It looked gloomy, grotesque, and foreboding. Dracula’s castle looked more inviting and there was absolutely no doubt. Here it was. The place of her nightmares.
Jake panicked. It was as though he could take no more. One front hoof struck the ground, followed by the other. A high-pitched whinny preceded an angry snort. Chaz tried soothing him again. She wanted to get closer.
“Chazma—stop!”
She turned and found Jethro McBain pounding his horse through the woods and coming up to snatch the reins out of her hands and in one fluid movement pull her and a very willing Jake back into the woods toward Brionn land.
****
Relief (though she didn’t wish to admit it) flooded through her veins. Secretly, she acquiesced she had actually been shaking in her boots, and was happy to release control to Jethro. She had wanted the encounter with Dark X—and yet, she wasn’t quite certain she was ready.
Should she confide in Jethro? Did she need help? Perhaps?
Without further contemplation she decided against it. Indomitable to the last, she dove for her reins. “Hey!”
“What in thunder do ye think ye are doing?” Jethro bellowed, and then he closed his flashing blue eyes and visibly attempted to regain some of his usual cool composure. His voice however, traveled from somewhere deep in his throat and sounded like the warning growl of an alpha wolf that has found a disobedient beta brother in his pack.
What am I doing? Feign ignorance. “I…I…don’t know.” She felt like a teenager whose motto was, When in doubt, fall into a stupor.
“Really? Ye don’t know?” scoffed McBain. “When Patrick explicitly asked you not to venture onto Mulrone land.” He shook his head. “No, Chazma Donnelly, I am not buying it. Whatever ye thought ye could do…forget it.” He regarded her sternly. “Come along now. And quickly.”
Chaz sighed but did what he asked, after all, she had promised Patrick and was in the wrong of this. “Why all the fuss anyway?” She knew now what all the fuss was—Mulrone dealt in the black arts.
Jethro still had hold of her reins and she tugged on them. “Let me have my reins back—I am not some infant you need to lead around.”
“Are ye not?” He sneered. After he took a moment to glare at her, he did in fact release his hold on her reins. As she resituated herself in her saddle, Jake decided to nip at Jethro’s big snowy gray, and the interaction jostled her sideways in her saddle. At that moment Jethro reached out with his gloved hand to steady her. Chaz had reached over to push off the gray gelding, and their gloved fingers brushed up against one another. Even with the leather between them, she was struck by the absolute dynamic magnetism his touch elicited from her. Did he feel it as well?
“Not a child, eh? Is that what ye think? Patrick believed yer promise, he did. Ye put yerself and me into an untenable situation.” His words were a blast of cold air.
“I—I got lost,” Chaz countered idiotically. She could see he didn’t believe her.
“Ye knew this was Mulrone property, do not try and deny it.” He eyed her frostily. “I know that ye knew. It is written all over ye. Ye have behaved like an irresponsible child and should be treated like one. For all ye know, ye might have been breaking an age-old contract between two landed families.”
“Ha! Like what century are we in?” She stopped and looked at him inquiringly. “Wait, you’re serious aren’t you? What? You mean like a good old feud?”
“Something like that,” he said evasively, looking down the trail and away from her scrutiny.
“Well then, I am sorry.” She waved a hand in the air as she went on to explain, “However, I am not
part of your feud. You can’t be held responsible for what I did.”
“Ye are in my employ and a reflection of me.”
“So I am.” His words stung. He had kissed her last evening and now he spoke of her as just another—employee. Her chin rose. “But not a resident here and therefore you should not be responsible for what I do.”
He became exasperated. “Ye are a child—a wayward brat, in fact, determined to get her own way.” He shook his head and continued his lecture. “Wayward children should be treated as such. Promises mean nothing to ye, so I am not asking for one. I am as yer employer telling you to stay away from Mulrone land!” He was seething and his entire body clenched with his annoyance. His brogue had deepened, and blue eyes turned to ice. Chaz sat very straight in her saddle as she turned her face away from him.
After a moment Chaz turned slightly and eyed him, feeling the I quit almost brush her lips. She tasted it on for size and realized it didn’t fit. She had been in the wrong of it. Her lips drooped. There was something irresistible about him in his looming I-am-in-control state. She liked the look of his stormy blue eyes and the set of his jaw.
Her gaze went to his lips and his glance caught hers and there was a moment when neither of them spoke.
He sucked in air and seemed to regain dominance of his faculties. “Chazma, we both know that ye are more than an employee. However, this is important to me and I am willing to make ye a deal: ye stay away from Mulrone land and I will allow ye to go on enjoying Jake.” Suddenly a wicked grin lit his face and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling back at him.
“That is not a deal, that is blackmail,” she answered saucily.
“Is it now?” he answered in that masculine Irish brogue that turned her insides out and then folded them back in again.
“You know it is.” She wagged a finger at him.
He almost laughed at her expression. “Nevertheless, those are the terms.”
She eyed him ruefully for a long moment. “Fine.”
“Don’t play me in this, Chaz.”
“No, sir, aye-aye, sir!”
A grin transformed him into a boy. “That is more like it.” However, then a grim expression took possession of his features as he frowned and said, “It is more than some ancestral feud, Chaz. The man is dangerous in ways ye can not imagine. Tom Murphy has been trying for years to find enough evidence on him, to make a case stick, but the bastard knows how to manage the legal system.”
“Dangerous in what way? Drugs?” Chaz wondered doubtfully. He had to know Mulrone was steeped in black magic.
“What other sort of way is there?” He eyed her for a long moment before asking, “Are ye going to trust me—will ye ask me, now, what you really want to know?”
Chazma felt herself blush. Why should she tell him anything? Did he confide in her? No! She wasn’t getting much more out of him and she sure wasn’t going to blurt out that she suspected that Mulrone was a black sorcerer. She wondered for the hundredth time if Jethro McBain was the one who would allow her to be herself—the one and only she had been waiting for all her life. Would he be horrified by what she really was? Or did he already know? After all, his estate was warded—he had to know that. His grandmother was a white witch for goodness’ sake. Although she had not yet admitted it, Chazma knew it as a fact. And the darkness in him? Magic laced his essence. There were rune tattoos done in the old-world style on his belly and chest and arms. That was no coincidence given everything else. And—and could she trust him?
At any rate, the Mulrone escapade had nicely dissipated the uneasy sexual tension she thought they would both feel when they encountered one another after last evening. Her brows drew together. It was almost as if he had forgotten their red-hot encounter.
The notion circled in her mind. How could he have just put it aside like that? She hadn’t been able to put him aside. It—he—consumed nearly every other thought.
She berated herself for even caring. He didn’t seem to. In fact, a quick glance at his face made her think he hadn’t given it much thought at all. No doubt for him, it had been a meaningless encounter amongst many. Chaz pouted.
Even the lovely scenery failed to bring her out of her blues. She sat quietly, her shoulders slumped as she walked her horse slightly behind the great big McBain on his equally great big snowy gray.
They passed a field of sheep gently grazing and a young lamb that had become separated from his mother suddenly leaped into the air with a loud baaa. The fuzzy lamb ran around until his mother called him to order and brought him in for a snuggle.
Chaz laughed out loud and turned to find Jethro also smiling appreciatively.
“The little lamb lost, er, reminds me that I should tell you I have some important business in Dublin tomorrow. I need to visit the construction site of my new project to oversee a few matters, but don’t fret it, I will be home before dark.”
“Lamb lost—you couldn’t be making a comparison to me?” Chaz regarded him with coolness. Don’t fret it…home before dark… Chaz’s shoulders squared and her voice rang with the challenge. “And why should I fret your absence or worry about the dark?”
“Given yer experience last evening, I thought ye might have a qualm or two.” A grin creased his face and then quickly dissipated under her hard scrutiny. “I was merely reassuring ye.”
“You needn’t go to so much trouble because of me.” Chaz kept her voice under control but she seethed inside.
He frowned and made an attempt to convey his concern. “I don’t like to think of ye alone in the house at this time.”
“I am well able to take care of myself,” Chaz responded tightly. “Please don’t rush back on my account.”
“So ye told me once before, but the point is ye shouldn’t have to take on anymore than ye absolutely have to, Chaz. If ye burden yourself with too many tasks in too many directions, yer single goal gets weathered in the fray.” He sighed heavily. “Chaz, whether ye want to admit it or not, last night took a toll on yer emotions—after all, ye saw that poor young woman. Ye know she had a name, a family, and a life. I have come to know ye have more compassion than is good for ye.”
Overtaken by all the emotions this drew from her, she relegated them to another compartment of her mind. Can’t think of that now, she had told herself, can’t keep seeing her face.
She caught a sudden sob that threatened and shoved it back down deep as she closed her eyes. “There is a monster out there committing unspeakable murders. I am fully aware that I have to watch my back.”
“No, ye are not. Ye rush headlong toward him, heedless because ye want to draw him out. Only a fool would not see that.”
“And you are no fool.” She kept her voice soft, intense.
“No, I am not.”
“Then you know I am perfectly safe in Brionn Manor, on Brionn land.”
“Ah, but will ye stay here? Ye just demonstrated otherwise.”
“Nag, nag, nag.” She tried to lighten the moment with a tease and a smile.
He didn’t let up. “Do ye think yer arrogance will keep ye safe? It is more likely that it will get ye killed,” he roared as his blue gaze disdainfully raked her.
Bereft of speech, she knew she had never thought of herself as arrogant. He zeroed in for more during her lapse.
“And furthermore, if Dunboyne or any other moonstruck idiot wants to see ye, they can damn well come for ye here at Brionn.”
It had been, in fact, precisely what Chaz had already decided, but she became incensed hearing it from his lips. “That…that is…ancient.”
“Good manners are never ancient or outdated,” he said without looking at her.
Chaz could hardly find her voice she was so thoroughly taken aback and outraged all in one. “Well, it is absurd. You make the assumption that I can not make wise decisions for myself.”
“And can ye, lass? Ye just came across a poor young thing with all her life ahead of her, ripped to pieces—the life force sucked out of her, and ye
t, ye made and broke yer promise to Patrick. I saw Jake. He didn’t want to go onto Mulrone land, yet ye ignored yer horse’s obvious fears, likely yer own instincts, and went headlong onto property owned by someone ye have been told is unsavory…to say the least.”
Put that way she suddenly felt silly. Why was she so angry with him? Not because he was displaying some concern for her well-being? No, it went deeper than that. “Fine,” Chaz snapped.
“Fine,” his lordship answered softly, no longer in a temper.
They rode the remaining distance back to the stables in silence, but just as the barn came into view Chaz turned on him to ask with a scowl, “How did you know?”
“How did I know what?”
“How did you know that I was at Mulrone?”
“I have yer measure, lass.”
Damn him to ever-loving goodness gracious! She had to use her considerable willpower to physically restrain herself from reaching over and pushing him off his horse.
Chapter Thirteen
IT WAS LATE morning when Chaz stuck her head out of the library doorway. The house had been abuzz with a cleaning crew that came in every other Friday and apparently did a major job top to bottom.
Chaz had made a decision. The time had come to investigate the left wing. She had to know what Jethro McBain really was, because she knew absolutely that he was not quite human and he was definitely not a warlock.
However, there would be no getting into the left wing this morning, at least not without being seen, as there had to be a staff of five or six that came and went, buzzed and fussed, mopped and polished and someone would be bound to see her.
Chaz’s stomach grumbled. She was always hungry and the fact that she was eating more than she had ever eaten in her life made her certain that the power inside of her was constantly growing. The inner dark energy soared and demanded fuel.
She went in search of food.