Rosa blanched. She felt violently ill at the thought. She had told them about the bells — she might as well reveal the rest. “I dropped my scrying bowl. It’s broken beyond repair.” Tears welled in her eyes.
The silence was deafening. For the first time, Beth looked uncertain and her hands shook. “Broken! How?”
“I’m almost too embarrassed to say.” But tell them she did.
“And you got absolutely nothing when you scried Aden?”
“Nothing.”
“And the same for yourself?”
Rosa nodded. “Absolutely nothing. And now the bowl is gone.” She didn’t need to explain. They understood exactly how deeply the loss would affect her life. There was nothing left except the memory. She would have to start afresh. Building the power in a new bowl to its previous level would take years.
“We’ll help,” Alanna insisted.
Rosa stared at her sister in confusion. “What? How? There’s nothing you can do.”
“We will find you a man.”
Rosa almost laughed. “Don’t you think I’ve been looking? There’s no one in Raven’s Creek who’s my equal.”
“Not in the township, I know. There must be one in the surrounding districts. Real men are what we need. Wimpy, ineffectual sops need not apply.”
“No,” Rosa protested, seeing the path her sister’s mind was wandering down. “No!”
“Yes!” Alanna countered emphatically. Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips. “Beth’s right. Don’t discount Aden as a possibility. I know you didn’t get anything from the scrying bowl, but he oozes potential! You know it.”
Guilty warmth stole into her cheeks. Alanna was right. Aden evoked in her a feeling of change, and she feared what that change might be. “This is my Bell, and it’s tolling for me. So don’t interfere. Got it?”
“There are other ways to generate interest.” Alanna ignored Rosa and slathered a thick layer of butter onto another piece of toast. She bit into it viciously and waved the rest of it at her. “I’m not going to sit around and do absolutely nothing while the Fates steal you away from us. We will apply to Marylebone Coven with a petition requesting they send us a warlock. While we’re at it, we can get them to send a couple extras for two extremely attractive, almost as talented sisters.”
A bubble of mirth erupted from Beth. “We can’t contact the Marylebone. No one contacts them; they contact us.”
“Why not?” Alanna stated. “It’s an emergency! We can petition through Kowhai Coven.”
“No!” Rosa insisted. “This is the Bells of Marylebone we’re talking about. Not even Kowhai can do anything to help me. Besides, this happens all the time to witches and warlocks alike.”
“Kowhai isn’t high enough. It’s a lowly sub-coven,” Beth reminded Alanna.
“Well, then, Marylebone is our best option.” Alanna was all fire and brimstone and no common sense. Rosa needed to extract a promise from her before she left the café, otherwise there was every possibility Alanna would concoct something truly diabolical.
“If you contact the coven, I’ll turn you into a garden gnome for all eternity and place you in the pond next to your precious Gregori. I’m sure you and your dragon will be very happy together.”
“Your fate is our fate. You’re my sister, and I’ll not stand idle when time is paramount.”
“My fate is mine, damn it!” In sheer frustration, Rosa’s voice rose above a fierce whisper. Ever conscious of the other patrons in the café who might be attuned to their conversation, she lowered her voice. “On your honor as a witch, promise me you will not contact Marylebone.”
Alanna slammed her cup on the table, and hot liquid splashed onto the polished wood. She pushed back and stood, her chair rocking and mimicking her increasing agitation. “I’ll not pledge a promise I cannot keep.” Sparks, invisible to anyone but the sisters, shot from her aura like a vivid fireworks display.
“Uh oh!” Beth rocked back in her chair.
Customers turned and stared. Most of them individuals they had known all their lives, so they were unsurprised by Alanna’s unruly behavior.
“You will pledge me this.” Rosa stood too, reached out, and gripped Alanna’s arm so tight that white imprints marred the surface of her sister’s skin.
All muted conversation in the room evaporated, the silence eerie, but it was imperative Rosa extracted that promise from Alanna now. There was no time to send out a soothing spell, and there were too many people in the café to work it on. It would take too long to prepare. She would do it later. No one would remember what had been said.
“No contacting Marylebone. Got it!” At the stubborn defiance glaring back at her, Rosa relented a fraction. “On my honor, if the situation worsens, I will make contact with them myself.”
“Witches’ Promise?” Alanna demanded.
Rosa realized her error. “Witches’ Promise.” She was now bound by an oath to do just that. “And you?”
Alanna glared at her, her red hair wild and as fiery as the look in her eyes. With obvious reluctance, she hissed the oath through clenched teeth. “Witches’ Promise.”
Chapter Ten
Bleary-eyed from too much alcohol the previous night, Aden thought he was having an hallucination. No surely not. He swore under his breath, not believing his eyes, and he had to tamp down the dragon in him when his temper flared. Zelda Mortiboy, of all people, was conversing with Rosa in the gallery.
What in the name of all dragons’ sanity was she doing in Raven’s Creek?
Zelda Mortiboy turned at the sound of the bell. Her eyes widened behind her black-and-white-checked horn-rimmed spectacles for a fraction of a second. A calculated expression crossed her sharp, knowing features. She was engaged in friendly conversation with Rosa, and it was clear they knew each other well.
Rosa turned to him, a smile of welcome on her lips. “Aden. Come in.”
She was more open to him since last night, and, if he was to admit the truth, he liked her far more than he should. But he wasn’t for her. He would never go through the anguish he had suffered all those long centuries ago. So he shut down the imp that prodded at his heart when it attempted to hack at the ice surrounding it. No. There is another for her. I am here to ensure her future is met one way or the other.
That is all.
“Rosa.” Aden acknowledged her greeting with a nod toward both women. “Can I wedge the door open with this crate.” He gestured to the heavy weight in his arms. “While I go get the others? OK with you?”
“No problem. Do you need help? I can carry something for you.”
Quickly, he rebuffed her offer. “No. They’re too heavy and an awkward size. You deal with your customer.”
He didn’t want to acknowledge he knew Zelda if there wasn’t a need to. Just how much did she know about Rosa’s fate? Surely she would know something. She was on the Supreme Council of Magical Beings. In fact, she headed the council. She was bound to know more than he, including the reason why he was here.
Aden bolted out the door before Rosa could introduce him to Zelda. He needed to build a stronger shield around him. That so-called old woman could chisel her way through just about any protection spell he created given enough time. She was like a jackhammer, jolting out information with sheer repetition and determination.
His cover could well be broken. He slammed the boot of the car down and hefted the last crate off the ground as he checked his shields. All intact. He reinforced them just in case.
No use waiting outside until she’d gone. Zelda had recognized him, and it was plain she wasn’t leaving Rosa’s side yet. He’d witnessed mischief in her eyes, even if they were hidden behind the zaniest pair of glasses he’d ever seen.
“I’m early, I know,” he said to Rosa when he returned with the last crate. Shoving the crate
holding the door ajar with a foot, he shouldered the door closed. “But these are more secure in the gallery. Thanks for the offer last night, by the way.”
He referred to Rosa offering to place his precious articles in the gallery safe. But it was the intricate network of spells that surrounded the building that truly eased his concern. The items were worth a lot of money, and he had not melded anti-theft spells into them for fear of detection.
Rosa still wore the dolphin, he noted with an odd mix of both pleasure and displeasure.
“Don’t worry,” Rosa said. “I’ll be happier knowing they’re secure, too.”
Aden forced his mouth into a smile. But there was no avoiding Zelda, who stood expectantly by the store counter. He held out his hand. “Aden Dragunis. And you are … ?”
Zelda gave him a swift assessment. She batted her lashes. “Zelda Mortiboy.”
So, the old woman was using her real name.
Rosa came round the counter to stand with Zelda. “So you haven’t met everyone in town, then. Aden has been ambushed by just about everyone, including Ruth.”
“And you survived her interrogation?” Zelda’s eyebrows arched above the rims of her glasses. “Commendable indeed.”
“Beth mentioned your name the other day in passing.” Which happened to be true. It was just that he’d not made the connection between the Zelda she knew and the one he knew. “It’s good to put a face to the name.”
“Zelda is a long-time friend of the family.” Rosa smiled warmly at her old friend. “She’s been away on holiday for the past five weeks. We’re just catching up on what she’s missed while away. I’ve missed her like crazy.”
Zelda’s lined face softened, and some of the sharp inquisitiveness left her eyes. “Ah, Rosa. You warm my heart.”
Aden’s mind ticked over, wondering why Zelda was living in Raven’s Creek. Did Rosa know what position Zelda held in the magical world? The last time he’d seen her, she hadn’t looked quite so … ancient. She had been young and wearing a midnight blue, floor-length ball gown. She seemed to have aged awfully fast but, despite the outward changes, he had recognized her immediately.
Zelda held out a hand to Aden. “I hear you’ve rented Lavender Cottage for the duration of your stay in Raven’s Creek.”
“I have.” He gave no indication of his displeasure as he shook her hand. “It’s an unexpected bonus to have a workshop as well. Please,” he said, determined not to alert Rosa to any tension between him and Zelda, “call me Aden.”
Several lifetimes of experience gave Aden a rounded education on the type of personality he was currently in company with. The woman was going to ply him with a battery of questions just to see how well he could dance around whatever subject she plucked from the air.
“So, the ‘Elusive Dragunis’ has deemed Raven’s Creek worthy of his presence.”
And here it was. “Rosa and her sisters have made me very welcome.”
“The Elusive Dragunis,” Rosa echoed. “I think I read that phrase somewhere.”
“Coined a few years back owing to my lack of interest in the media,” Aden explained.
“But wouldn’t the media aid the promotion of your work?” Zelda pushed.
He couldn’t prevent his irritation rising. “The quality of my work speaks for itself.” What was she playing at?
Zelda chuckled. “Your ego, I fear, is not so elusive.”
“Zelda!” Rosa gasped, clearly astonished. “I apologise,” Rosa turned to him. “My friend can be too direct at times.”
“Old age makes one realize there’s no time to waste,” Zelda grinned, a wicked glint in her eye.
Aden knew she wasn’t finished with her inquisition. It was why she sat on the Supreme Council. Whenever he’d had the unfortunate situation of bumping into her, it was because she had been working on council business. The last time they had crossed paths, in the early part of the nineteen hundred’s, she’d been a bewitching beauty of approximately twenty-eight, give or take a year. It was clear she was a master at disguise for if she had aged naturally, she would be at least one hundred and twenty today. She very obviously was not. He’d put her current disguise as a woman in her late fifties.
Undeterred, Zelda continued her inquisition. “A man as talented as Aden obviously is a catch.” Zelda winked. “Are you single? Do you have a wife somewhere?”
The wizardess was a wicked, wicked woman! What was she thinking? The past was exactly that. The past. A subject he avoided at all costs. And the old woman, or whatever she was pretending to be, knew all about his past.
“If I had a wife, she would be here, with me today.”
Zelda rested a fluttery hand over her heart. “Single, talented, and handsome.” She winked at Rosa. “If only I were a few years younger.”
Thank the dragon she was not! He held on tight to his shield. He could not see the magical aura surrounding Zelda, and yet he knew the woman was a magical being just as he was. A wizardess. And not just any wizardess: a powerful one from a hierarchy even Marylebone looked up to. What in dragon’s name was going on?
“Perhaps you’d like to take a look around while I finish up with Zelda,” Rosa said to him. “We’re just making arrangements to catch up later.”
Aden inclined his head, grateful for Rosa’s intervention. “It was … interesting to meet you, Zelda. I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
“Oh, we will.” The old woman just about cackled as she dug into her bag to find her wand … ah … wallet. “We will.”
“I’d really like to see the jade dragon,” Aden said to Rosa. “Could you point me in the right direction?”
Rosa gestured toward the back of the building. “He’s out in the courtyard.” She pointed to the bi-folding doors along the rear wall of the gallery floor. “The doors are unlocked.”
Zelda’s eyes lit up. “A truly magnificent creation!”
Aden spun on his heels before Zelda could say anything else and headed for the courtyard. Instantly, he felt some relief. That woman had given him the beginnings of a headache, and the fresh air was a welcome reprieve.
The faint sound of Rosa and Zelda conversing grew muffled as he walked away. He could have cast a spell to listen in on their conversation, but, unsure of Zelda’s involvement in the sisters’ lives and not wishing to reveal even a hint of magic, he tuned out their voices and made his way to the ornamental pond.
He would worry about Zelda later.
And, within seconds, he forgot entirely about the two women when he took his first look at the jade dragon sitting on a carved stone lily pad. On first inspection, Aden acknowledged every accolade he’d ever heard to be true. Without question, the dragon was the most majestic creature he had ever set eyes on.
Hunching down beside the edge of the pond, Aden studied the piece closely. The size of a small football, Gregori, as he’d been named, sat perched as if ready to launch into the air at any moment. Ruby inset eyes glinted fire, but more shockingly Aden instantly recognized the precious life trapped within the stone. Adrenaline surged through him, and he automatically checked all his shields and defenses to ensure they were strong enough to stand an assault if necessary. He rocked back on his heels, his entire body alert.
Shocked, his attention snapped to the gallery. Zelda was gone and Rosa, instead of coming out to join him in the courtyard, was engrossed in opening the first of his crates. He looked back to Gregori. Did Rosa know what and who Gregori was?
An answering gust of wind whistled out of nowhere, swirling dust balls about his feet. Aden felt more than heard the dragon’s cry reverberate through his body. No … no … no.
• • •
If Aden leaned over the pond much farther, he would likely fall in, Rosa thought. On his knees, he reached out, extending his arm as far as it could go to touch Gregori. They had placed t
he dragon far enough back that most could not reach him. Rosa realized within seconds Aden was going to set off the wards surrounding Gregori, but, when she should have started a counter spell to prevent that happening, Aden turned. He captured her gaze, and it was as if the air stilled and it was she who had been turned to stone.
Suddenly Rosa couldn’t breathe. For a millisecond, she caught a flash of fire in Aden’s eyes. The air rippled. It was too late. The spells surrounding Gregori had been breached. A rush of energy swept at light speed toward her. The doors blew open, glass shattered as it slammed back against itself, and Rosa swayed, the crowbar in her hand slipping from lifeless fingers. The world spun crazily, tilting, and she teetered backwards, her arms flailing wildly in a useless attempt to regain her balance.
Knowing she was about to clip the base of her skull on the counter behind, she steeled herself for the blow. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself, but, instead of pain, she encountered something far softer; a wall with arms that curved around and gripped her waist.
Her last thought before losing consciousness was to wonder how Aden had moved so fast.
• • •
“Rosa.” Something cold pressed against her brow. “Wake up!”
Her arm as heavy as her mind was groggy, she swiped weakly at the hand caressing her cheek. “Get off.”
“Feisty. That’s good.” The voice was masculine and laced with concern.
By sheer willpower alone, Rosa peeled her heavy eyelids open, but everything was fuzzy and far too bright. She winced, squeezed her eyes shut, and waited until she was ready to try again. More cautious this time, she made another attempt to open them and focus her vision. Better. But she was bewildered by what she found in front of her.
Aden sat beside her on her day-bed in her back office. How had she gotten there?
Now he hovered over her and cupped a hand to her cheek, the movement tender and warm, his concern palpable. “Are you okay?”
The Silver Rose Page 7