Dangerous Lover

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Dangerous Lover Page 2

by Maggie Shayne


  “What makes it your problem?” Marcy snapped.

  “Marcy, hell, didn’t you see the comet?” Helena whispered.

  Erica nodded. “He’s the one. Fell at her feet. Going to die without her. We asked for the signs, and we got ’em in spades,” she said. “Poor guy probably doesn’t even know he just fell into his destiny.”

  “Just go,” Selene said. “All of you. Gather up as much of your stuff as you can and get the hell out of here. But hurry. I’m making that call right now. You should have a good ten minutes before they get here.”

  The women scattered, gathering clothes, handbags, ritual tools even as Selene punched buttons on the cell phone. She gave the information calmly and slowly and then disconnected. Helena came to her as she folded the phone and set it down. The others were already running along the path back to the road where their cars were parked.

  “You should go, too. They’ll be here soon.”

  Selene looked up at her friend, then down at the man, at his face, for the first time. “I can’t leave him. I can’t.”

  “Well at least gather up the rest of the ritual gear, hon. Good luck.”

  “Merry part, Helena.”

  “Yeah, and merry meet again—I hope,” Helena said. She handed Selene her blouse. “Better put this on before they get here.” And then she hurried away.

  Selene told herself to follow her friend’s wise advice, and she got as far as pulling her blouse on before she got distracted. But then the candle flickered in the breeze, and painted the fallen man’s face in amber glow. He wore a day’s growth of beard. Some men thought that look was sexy.

  She thought it was sexy. Even lying there, unconscious, he was sexy. Hair cut short, kind of brushed back on the top. Dark, dark hair. And a luscious, thick brow line. Everything in her was drawn to him, physically drawn, as if he were magnet pulling her body closer. And even as she wondered whether that was only because she knew he was fated for her, she gave in to it. She leaned closer. She closed her eyes and inhaled him, and something in her knew that scent. She ran a hand over the smooth, strong chest, and something in her knew that silken steel against her palms. Something in her knew the pounding of the heart that beat beneath his skin.

  He opened his eyes, dark like his hair in the light of the candle glow, and he stared into hers, but he was unfocused, blinking, clearly confused and in pain.

  “Don’t be afraid,” she told him. “Help is on the way. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “You…you….” He gave up his effort at speech, his eyes falling away from hers, sliding over the athame that was thrust into the ground near his head.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  He jerked his eyes back to hers. “I…I don’t know,” he whispered. And then he looked panicky again. “I don’t know—”

  “That’s okay,” she told him, keeping her voice calm, soothing. “I know who you are.”

  That thick brow bent in the middle. “Who…am I?”

  “You’re the one,” she said softly. “You’re the one I’ve been waiting for.”

  His confusion didn’t ease. In fact, it seemed to increase as he stared up at her. And then she heard vehicles arriving, sirens wailing, doors slamming. Feet came running in time with the bounding flashlights. Paramedics were pushing her out of the way, and kneeling around the man. She stood a few feet away, watching them, willing him to be all right. And then a hand fell onto her shoulder.

  She turned, startled.

  “Ma’am, do you mind telling me what’s—” The police chief stopped there, pushed his wide-brimmed hat back on his head, and blinked at her. “Miz Brand? Selene Brand?”

  She nodded. “Hello, Chief Wheatly.”

  “Well now, what in the name of all that’s—”

  “Chief, he has something to say,” one of the medics called.

  Chief Wheatly sighed. “You stay right here, Selene,” he said, patting her shoulder. And he went to where the medics worked on the man. They spoke in low tones. She heard her beloved’s voice, strained and whispering. When they all kept looking back at her, and then around at the circle, with its candles, and its altar full of Witch tools, she felt a ripple of warning move along her spine, and she went closer to try to hear what was being said.

  The chief pulled her athame from the ground, eyed it, and dropped it into an evidence bag.

  Uh-oh.

  The chief got up, turning toward her, holding up the bag. “This your knife, little lady?”

  “Yes, Chief, it is, but it’s not—”

  “So we’ll find your fingerprints on it, then.”

  “Of course you will, but not because I—”

  “You do realize that young feller over yonder has been stabbed, don’t you, Selene?”

  She blinked. “Not by me,” she said.

  “Well, now, that’s good to know. Good to know.” Chief Wheatly took her arm, and drew her with him as he moved closer to the altar, and nodded at the tools there. There was a goblet full of moon-water; a silver censer, still emitting a thin spiral of fragrant smoke, a magic wand, unmistakably phallic in shape and size, a candle snuffer that looked like a Witch’s hat dangling from the end of a broomstick handle; a dinner-plate-sized circle of crystal, etched with the five-pointed star, or pentacle, a hollow half sphere of quartz-lined stone called a geode, with a few pinches of sea salt inside; a statue of a beautiful naked woman, with hounds at her sides and a bow in her hands; a statue of a beautiful, naked man with a full beard, horns on his bushy head, and hooves instead of feet. They were Diana, the Huntress, and Pan, her lover. They were images representing the Goddess and God.

  Selene doubted the chief would see them that way, though.

  After looking the items over carefully, Chief Wheatly turned to face her. “You care to tell me what’s been goin’ on out here tonight, Selene?”

  She pursed her lips and tried to swallow against the dryness in her throat. “I’ll be happy to tell you, Chief. I was here minding my own business when this man came stumbling out of the woods bleeding, and fell at my feet.” She shrugged. “I called you. End of story.”

  “That’s not the way he tells it.”

  She lifted her brows, her eyes shooting back to the man. They were lifting him now, onto a gurney, and then hauling him toward a waiting ambulance. “How does he tell it?”

  “Someone stabbed him. He thinks it was you.”

  She thought she could have fallen over dead from shock. “Why would he say something like that?”

  “Well, now, that’s a mighty good question, Selene. You were here alone, you say?” Even as he said it, he was looking around at the ritual site. Without even trying, Selene could find evidence of others there. Two pairs of shoes, a couple of blouses. She prayed her friends had taken everything that might possibly identify them by name.

  “Do you see anyone else?” she asked, not exactly lying.

  “No, ma’am, I don’t.” Chief Wheatly clearly saw everything she did, though. “But uh, this ground is gonna give up plenty of tracks, you know. And if there were cars parked nearby, we’ll know. Looks to me like there were at least a few others out here with you.”

  She glanced at the chief, met his eyes, and lowered her own. She couldn’t understand why the wounded man would think—then again, he was hurt, confused, and he’d looked up at her to find her standing over him with a blade poised over his chest. “He’s confused, Chief. I would never hurt anyone. And as to what the ground is going to give up, there has to be a trail of blood leading from the woods to this clearing.”

  “That there is. I’ve got men on it already.”

  “Doesn’t that prove my story?”

  “Only proves he was stabbed elsewhere. Doesn’t prove you weren’t the one who did it, though frankly, Selene, I’d be pretty shocked.” He shrugged. “You didn’t see him until he came out of the woods, you say?”

  She nodded.

  “Fella says you told him you know who he is. That
true?”

  She pursed her lips. “I think maybe I’d better shut up now, Chief. I’m awful sorry and I hate to be rude. But you know, my brother-in-law, Caleb, would be pretty mad at me for talking to you without him here, given what you think might have happened out here tonight, him being a lawyer and all.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You wanna do me a favor and call him for me?”

  The chief eyeballed her. “You could call him yourself from the station, Selene. I’m gonna have to call your mamma anyway.” He pursed his lips, shook his head. “And I don’t mind tellin’ you, that’s one call I don’t look forward to makin’.”

  No, she wasn’t looking forward to that, either. Her mother was going to have an absolute hissy over this. She would never understand.

  “I suppose you’re going to confiscate all my things,” she said, nodding toward the altar.

  “Afraid so, Selene. This is a crime scene.”

  “It’s not, really. I told you, he was stabbed somewhere else. He just stumbled in here.”

  “Still—”

  “Yeah, I know.” She stared at the statues on the altar. “These things are…they’re sacred objects, Chief. This spot is as holy to me as a church is to other folks. I don’t expect you to understand that, but—”

  “So then, this was some kind of…occult ceremony.”

  She licked her lips. “I’m just asking you to take care with my things, is all. Maybe…maybe you could have Jimmy take charge of collecting the evidence? As a favor to my family?”

  “That would put him in an awful position, Selene, him being your brother-in-law. Suppose he finds something incriminating?”

  “You know Jimmy Corona, Chief. He’s a good cop. He wouldn’t tamper with evidence—not even for me.”

  “No, I don’t suppose he would. All right, out of respect for your family, Selene, I’ll have Jimmy oversee things here. He’s off duty so I’ll call him in. And….” the chief thinned his lips, sighed, “while I’m at it, I’ll have him tell Caleb to meet us at the station.”

  “Thanks, Chief Wheatly.”

  He harrumphed, taking her gently by one arm, and leading her toward his black-and-white SUV. “I’ve known your mamma a long time,” he said. “It’s not her fault if you’ve fallen into some kind of satanic cult, girl.”

  “I have not fallen into any—”

  “She’s done the best she could by you girls. It can’t have been easy raising five kids all alone. I just hope we can find a way to get you back on the straight and narrow. Vidalia Brand is a good woman. She doesn’t deserve this.” He opened the door, eased her into the passenger seat, closed the door and then got behind the wheel. He took his radio mike from the dashboard, and put in a call. “Sally, I need you to put in a call to Jimmy Corona. Tell him to meet me at the station and to bring Caleb Montgomery with him. Tell them Selene Brand is being brought in for questioning in relation to an attempted murder with…ties to the occult. And uh, maybe you’d best put in a call to Reverend Jackson, as well.”

  Selene shot him a look. “You ever hear of separation of church and state, Chief?”

  “Aw, c’mon, Selene. Your mamma would want him there.”

  She pursed her lips, folded her arms across her chest, and leaned back in the seat. This was going to be a hell of a long night.

  Chapter 2

  Selene sat in the small room alone, waiting for the ax to fall. She knew her mother was in the next room. She didn’t know about anyone else in the family, but she could feel her mother’s presence. Goddess, what must Vidalia be thinking right now? To get a phone call from the police in the middle of the night, to be told her youngest daughter had been brought in for questioning regarding a stabbing with Chief Wheatly’s so-called “occult ties.” Poor Mamma.

  She could deal with her mother, though, and she would. At least that was something she could deal with. That poor man in the hospital, that was something almost entirely out of her hands.

  Almost.

  She could still send magic. She whispered charms and sent healing energy to him on the web of the night. But she wished she could do more. All night she’d been thinking about him. She wondered if he was all right, if he was in pain, if he had remembered what had really happened. She wondered if he really thought she had been the one who’d hurt him.

  That bothered her, knowing he thought that. It was no way to start out a lifetime together, that was for sure.

  She tensed when the door opened, then relaxed when she saw it was only Caleb, her brother-in-law. One thing about it, she had a family made for getting a girl out of trouble. Of her four brothers-in-law, one was a cop, one was a PI and one was a lawyer. The fourth was a mechanic, but in most circumstances, his kind of help was all she needed. Tonight was certainly different.

  Caleb smiled, but it didn’t meet his worried eyes. “Hi, Selene. You okay?”

  She closed her eyes, nodded slowly. “Thanks for coming, Cal.”

  “Not a problem. Uh, Vidalia’s here, too. Chomping at the bit to get in here.”

  “Thanks for making her wait.”

  “It wasn’t easy.” Caleb pulled out a chair and sat down. “It’s just you and me here. No one’s listening in. So uh, you wanna tell me what happened out by the falls tonight, Selene?”

  She watched his eyes, looking for any sign that he no longer trusted her. She half expected the entire family to turn on her once they knew the truth. But she saw nothing to tell her that was the case with him. “What’s the chief saying?”

  He lifted his brows. “Some pretty farfetched stuff. Says it looks as if there was some kind of satanic ritual going on out there, with you right smack in the middle of it.”

  She said nothing. He stared at her, waiting.

  Finally she sighed. “There was a ritual. But there was nothing satanic about it, Caleb. Just because something is different doesn’t mean it’s evil. Just because someone has a different way of worshipping, that doesn’t make them satanic.”

  He held up a hand. “Hey, you don’t have to convince me. I believe you.”

  “You do?”

  “Come on, Selene. You’ve been messing with herbs and spells for as long as I’ve been in this family. I’m not ignorant.”

  She was stunned. “You…you knew?”

  He nodded. “I figured if you weren’t ready to talk about it out loud, then that was your business. So I never brought it up. But look, that’s me. The chief and the rest of the good folks of Big Falls aren’t necessarily as familiar with alternative belief systems. And—well, a stranger was stabbed tonight. People are muttering about a botched human sacrifice.”

  She shot to her feet. “That’s insane!”

  “Well, sure it is, hon. I know that. Everyone else will, too, as soon as you fill us in. What happened, Selene?”

  “Bring my mother in.” He just looked at her, unsure. “Bring her in, Cal. I don’t want to have to go through this more times than I absolutely have to.”

  He nodded, got up and left the room. A second later, he returned with her mother and Chief Wheatly. She paced away from them, trying to form words in her mind to explain herself. But she could have spent all night planning her words and still not got them quite right. So she just started talking.

  “You all know me, right? You know I’m always brewing herbal teas and making charms and reading cards, right?”

  “Yes,” Caleb said. “We love those things about you, don’t we Vidalia?”

  “It’s always made me nervous. You know that, child.”

  “Those things are…well, they’re…they’re folk magic. They’re what a lot of people call…witchcraft.” She turned and looked her mother dead in the eye. “I’m a Witch.”

  She’d thought Vidalia would faint dead away. Instead she folded her hands around her tiny silver cross pendant and closed her eyes.

  Caleb nodded slowly. “What, exactly, does that mean? To you, I mean?” he asked. And she knew he was asking only to give her the chance to explai
n things to her mom and to the chief.

  “Well, I’ll tell you what it doesn’t mean. It doesn’t mean I worship the devil and it doesn’t mean I would ever hurt anyone or anything. The only commandment in the Craft is ‘Harm none.’”

  Caleb sat calmly in the chair, his eyes following her agitated pacing. The chief stood, his gaze shifting from Cal and Vi to Selene and back again. Vidalia just sat there, head bowed, eyes closed, muttering what might have been a prayer under her breath.

  “Wicca is about empowering the divine within ourselves and respecting it in others. It’s about attuning to the cycles and seasons of nature. It’s about finding the magic in everything around us. It’s about—” She stopped there, turned to stare at her mother. “We were just observing the full moon, Mom, just relishing the fact that we’re alive and in such a beautiful place, enjoying God’s creation. We were just laughing and talking and casting a few positive spells—which is just like praying, only a little more proactive and a little less dependent. We were doing nothing wrong.”

  Caleb nodded as if he fully understood. The chief said, “We, huh?”

  She bit her lip and turned away from him.

  “Look, Selene, the chief knows there were others out there with you tonight. If you’d just tell him who else was with you, and one of them could vouch for your story—”

  “It’s not a story, Caleb, it’s the truth. And I’m sorry, but I won’t tell anyone who was out there with me.”

  “You most certainly will, young lady!” Vidalia’s outburst shocked them all. She’d jumped to her feet as she spoke, and Caleb got up, too, and put a calming hand on her shoulder.

  “Vidalia,” the chief said. “Now I told you, if you want to be here for this, you’re going to need stay calm, all right?”

  She pursed her lips, lowered her head and slowly sank back into her seat.

  “Now, Selene,” Chief Wheatly said, “those others who were out there with you, they were witnesses to a crime.”

 

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