Now she was back, and it was up to her to save the day—literally.
Due to three separate and very recent Other crises, there was no mistaking that the darkness sucking the joy out of everyone this holiday season had been brought on by witchcraft. A harmful spell cast by a magical witch.
One of June’s charges.
Who was capable of such treachery? She couldn’t imagine. Because she’d been away from Salem for almost eight years, she didn’t yet have a keen lock on the dynamics of the local magical coven or the latest gossip within the Other community. She’d been in town for two weeks now. She’d touched base with a few of her charges, made her presence known throughout town, but she’d yet to call a formal meeting. Out of respect, she’d spoken briefly with the acting high priestess, if only to assure Esmeralda she was on the job. The one thing June hadn’t done, the thing she dreaded most, was speaking with Esmeralda’s grandson, Basel Collins, a powerful wizard and the next in line as high priest of the local coven. The bad boy who’d seduced her soul and stolen her heart.
Except it hadn’t been real.
June tossed her empty can in the trash bin, blaming her racing pulse on the energy drink, not the memory of Baz’s passion. His soul kisses and heated touch. His declaration of love.
None of it real.
Her cheeks flamed. That had been eight years ago, and she still felt the fool.
Her cell phone jangled with the theme from the old television show Bewitched. Not an original choice, but a sporadic reminder of her youthful naïveté. Crazy, but the song always put starch in her spine. Glancing at the incoming call, June paced while connecting. “Hey, Sam.”
“You doing okay, kid?”
June flushed at her cousin’s caring tone. Even though she had been nervous and tentative ever since her return, Sam, along with everyone else, had been doing their best to make her feel welcome. “Hanging in there, O Keeper of Keepers.”
“I can’t help it if I feel responsible for the well-being of my sisters-in-arms. Not to mention my cousins,” Sam added with a smile in her voice. “I’m worried about you. When you rushed out of the council meeting—”
“About that. I’m sorry I didn’t thank you properly for including me in your Christmas Eve party.”
“You’re kidding, right? You’re family, June.”
“Estranged family.” Her gut knotted with guilt. “All that time I was away, I didn’t work very hard at keeping in touch.”
“You were busy,” Sam said reasonably. “We all get caught up in our own lives from time to time.”
“And since I’ve been back...I’ve been sort of distanced. Worried.”
“It’s the darkness. Everyone’s on edge. About that, June. Before you left you promised you’d get to the bottom of this curse. I—we—just want you to know that we’re here for you. Me and Daniel, Roe and Vaughn, Katie Sue and Jett. Just give a shout if—”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
“Anytime. Any hour.”
“I appreciate that, Sam. I know I’m not qualified to be a Keeper, and—”
“The only one who thinks that is you.” Sam sighed. “Okay. Time for some tough love.”
“You really don’t—”
“Yes, I do. As the eldest cousin and as someone who cares deeply for you, I’m compelled to tell you to grow some balls.”
June choked on shocked laughter. “What?”
“Bear with me. It seems to be my running theme lately. Listen, honey, you were born to be a Keeper. You’ve been studying the history and traditions of Wiccans and witches for years. But you can’t do this alone. You need to call a formal convocation and confer with your charges.”
“I know.”
“Your interaction with them thus far has been minimal, and now they’re taking matters into their own hands.”
June stumbled. “What?”
“Humans aren’t the only ones rattled by this darkness,” Sam said. “All the Others are affected, as well, and now that we’ve determined that a witch is the likely culprit, the pressure is on the local coven to rein in their own before the whole of Salem is at each other’s throats.”
“But it’s only been a couple of hours since—”
“News like this travels like wildfire, June. You should know that.”
“I do know that.” June mentally kicked herself for wasting the past hour poring over the Book of Spells when she should have been consulting with the people who knew those spells best. She dashed for the coat tree and nabbed her coat and scarf. “I’ll head over to Esmeralda’s right now. I know it’s late but—”
“That’s part of the reason I’m calling. I just got word Esmeralda’s down with some horrible virus. That’s why she wasn’t at my party tonight...last night...whatever. That’s why she wasn’t at the last-minute council meeting, either. She’s put Baz in temporary charge.”
Coat half on, half off, June froze. “What?”
“He’s on his way over to Twists & Tales.”
“Crap.” If she had to speak with Basel, she would prefer someplace public. She wasn’t ready to be alone with him, and her bookshop had been closed for hours. If she left now, maybe she could avoid him, call him later and name her own meeting place.
“Word of advice from someone who was also burned by my past love, cousin. Everyone makes mistakes.”
“Love had nothing to do with what went on between Basel and me,” June snapped. “Nothing.”
“Good luck, honey,” Sam said with genuine affection. “And Merry Christmas.”
It took all the self-control June could muster not to reply, bah, humbug.
Chapter 2
“Happy belated solstice, June Bug.”
“First of all, what’s happy about it? Second, why can’t you call me June or Juniper like everyone else?”
“Because you’ll always be June Bug to me.” Baz smiled, hoping to break the ice. There was plenty of it. Even though the sidewalk had been shoveled and salted, several deadly looking icicles hung from the gables of Twists & Tales. Then there was the frosty look in June’s emerald-green eyes. “Cold as a witch’s... Well, you know. Mind inviting me inside?” Although he wasn’t sure it would be any warmer inside the old bookstore than out here on the street. He’d assumed he would get a chilly reception, but this was ridiculous.
For the minute June kept him waiting, he drank his slow fill of her. She’d always been cute, but now she was stunning. Stunning in a way that made him randy and resentful at the same time. He’d missed eight years of watching Juniper Twist blossom. She was still on the petite side—five-one to his six feet. Pale skin, vivid green eyes, lush black lashes. He liked that she still wore her straight hair long, although the thick bangs were new. The blunt fringe drew attention to those amazing eyes. Eyes that shimmered with...resentment? Anxiety? And, oh, yeah. There it was. A little female appreciation. Baz was pretty sure his friendly smile just turned cocky.
A frigid wind blasted his back and fanned several strands of her ebony hair. Shivering, she stepped back, gesturing for him to hurry inside. Once he was over the threshold she shut and locked the door.
“Going somewhere?” he asked with a cocked brow. She had one arm in the sleeve of her coat and a long scarf hung crookedly around her neck.
“I was on my way out to see Esmeralda.”
“Ez is sick.”
“I heard. I mean, Sam just called. I hope it’s not serious.”
“Nice of you not to hold a grudge.”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive your grandmother for casting that spell, but I don’t wish her ill, either.”
“I appreciate that,” he said, irked that she still couldn’t see beyond that damned incantation. Her coat still hung from her right arm and shoulder. She seemed distracted. He moved in to help. “On or off?”
“What?”
“Your coat. On or off?”
“Oh. Off, I guess. Since you’re here. Sam said you’re stepping in for Esmeralda.”
“Just while she’s sick.” He hung her coat on the antique tree near the cashier counter. Meanwhile, she shifted back and forth, rocking her weight while relooping her scarf. She was dressed in black from head to toe, except for that purple scarf and her knee-high purple boots. She was wired. He noted several empty cans of Red Bull in the garbage bin and another two on a table alongside a stack of books.
“Want some coffee?” she asked. “Hot tea?”
Like she needed more caffeine, he thought. “Got any wassail?”
“Why would I have wassail?”
“’Tis the season?” Baz shrugged out of his rugged leather bomber and hung it alongside her stylish velvet coat. “Not that you’d know it by the look of this place.” He swept his gaze over the dimly lit room. He’d always loved Twists & Tales. A centuries-old building full of centuries-old books, most of them having to do with spiritualism, mysticism and the occult. “Artemis used to deck the halls.”
“I’m not Artemis.”
“Obviously.” He couldn’t help admiring June’s sexy curves. The magicals’ former Keeper had definitely been lacking in that area. Annoyed by his fierce attraction to the woman who’d mangled his heart, Baz focused on the crisis. “Artemis would have spent the past week spreading Yuletide cheer among his charges and friends. He would have visited each and every witch—Wiccan or magical—trying to ease their concerns regarding this black curse. Working with us, not against us.”
She stopped shifting and gawked. “I wasn’t working against you!”
“You sure as hell weren’t with us.”
“I’ve only been in town for two weeks. I’ve been easing into the position, gathering information. Plus I’ve had a lot going on. Moving in here. Settling my uncle’s affairs. Reacclimating to the area. And then today, I mean, yesterday, Sam needed my help at her house. You know, with her annual party. And then there were the Other incidents.”
“Let’s start there,” Baz interrupted. She was practically bouncing off the ancient walls. He caught her hand and finessed her toward the upstairs apartment.
“What are you doing?”
“I need you to brief me on that altercation with the shapeshifter. I especially want your take on the blocking shield. But first, I need a drink.” He had climbed this narrow stairwell many a time before, but usually with Artemis. He missed his friend. He mourned the Keeper. As for June... Holding her hand brought back every intimate moment they’d shared with vivid clarity. Did she feel it, too? The connection? The energy? The soul-deep love?
She slipped out of his grasp as if reading his thoughts.
Or feeling the same unnerving jolt.
“Water or brandy?” he asked as they reached the small kitchen. Either drink would counteract her caffeine high.
“I don’t have any brandy.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Water,” she said in a dazed voice. “I need my wits about me.”
“As do I.” Hopefully a snifter of cognac would dull his sensual buzz.
High on Juniper Twist.
Great. Just great.
He snagged a bottle of spring water from the fridge and passed it to her. Then he nabbed both a snifter and Artemis’s stashed Rémy Martin from the corner cabinet. She’d stayed away so long, Baz knew this apartment better than she did. He noted the circles beneath her eyes as she screwed off the cap of her water and swigged. “When’s the last time you slept?”
“Yesterday. I think. For a couple of hours. Or maybe that was the day before.” She palmed her forehead. “The days and nights are blurring.”
He ached to pull her into his arms. Instead, he sipped cognac. “I hear you.” He nodded toward the living room. “Come on, Bug. Let’s talk.”
* * *
June hated that Baz called her Bug. She used to love it. It made her feel special. June Bug was cute. Bug was special. A term of affection that made her insides all squishy. Even now.
How the heck was that possible?
She was over him. Long over him. Not only had their love been a sham, but he had cheated on her not an hour after the spell had been lifted.
“I can hear those wheels turning,” he said as she sat on her uncle’s butter-soft sofa.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
He sank down beside her.
She shot up and moved to the matching leather club chair.
Baz just grinned. The same knowing grin he’d adopted on the threshold just minutes ago when he’d realized she was checking him out. How could she not check him out? Basel Christopher Collins had always been sinfully gorgeous. But now...now there was an air about him that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. A grounded confidence. A driven calm. It was...intense.
And incredibly sexy.
Even when he’d scolded her downstairs, he hadn’t raised his voice. He hadn’t lost his cool. He had always been a wild child. A bad boy. He still looked the part in his faded jeans and rugged boots, the snug black tee and the black-and-red flannel shirt—unbuttoned and tails hanging out. His chocolate-brown hair was windblown, and he needed a shave. His eyes, nearly the same color as that cognac, sparkled with something dangerous. Controlled, but dangerous.
She squirmed under his intense regard and that sexy hint of a smile. “We should be out there looking for whomever’s responsible for the darkness spell.”
“I know who’s responsible.”
“What?” She shot out of her chair, shocked and incensed. “How can you sit there looking so calm? Why didn’t you tell me straightaway? Why—” Her voice caught when Baz grasped her hand—again—and gently tugged her down beside him on the sofa. She felt a zap as soon as their palms connected. Her nerves jumped like live wires. Real? Or magic? The effect, combined with his nearness, stunned her into silence.
“Correction. I’m ninety-nine percent certain of the culprit’s identity. A warlock by the name of Marin Bryce. I just put the pieces together in the past couple of hours. What I don’t know,” he said while sliding her a disquieting look, “is his location. Even if I did, I couldn’t force him to break the spell.”
June wasn’t familiar with the wayward magical. “Bryce is that powerful?”
“I’m not that ruthless. Violence isn’t our way, June Bug.”
“I know.” She knew the way of the magicals, which was in tune with the Wiccans’ “An in it harm none.” “But there was a time...” She thought back on when Baz had used his powers to punish a boy who’d been terrorizing young girls. Disturbing, even though his intentions had been good. “You didn’t always play by the rules.”
“Still don’t.” He drank more brandy, then set aside the glass. “But this is bigger than anything I’ve ever dealt with. Anything we’ve ever dealt with. By lashing out and striking hard, by acting out in anger or desperation, we’d be playing into his hands and strengthening the spell.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“Ez had her suspicions. I narrowed them down. We’ve been questioning members of the coven, quietly poking around.”
“Which I would’ve known if I’d called a formal meeting.” Head spinning, June chugged more water, then worked a kink from her neck. “When I think of the time I wasted hoping this was anyone’s problem but mine...”
Baz squeezed her arm.
Another zap.
Unsettled, June cursed her squishy insides and tried to relax in his presence. Tried to absorb his calm. “If Christmas Day comes and goes without a sliver of sunlight...”
“We won’t let that happen.”
She glanced at one of the most powerful wizards she’d ever known, her stomach twisting with skepticism. As if Baz really needed her help. “We?”
“Between my practical experience and your extensive studies,” he said, “together we can beat this.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Faith. In the power of good over evil. In us.”
She didn’t like the look in his eye. Well, she did, but she shouldn’t. She h
ad been short on faith and trust for some time now. Ignoring the sensual sparks flaring throughout her body, she summoned every practical, logical particle of her being. “Let’s start with what we know.”
Chapter 3
June faded, then finally fell asleep, in the middle of her rendition of the showdown with the shapeshifter who’d stolen Jett’s seal coat—the skin that allowed his selkie self to return to the sea. Jett had already relayed the story to Baz, just as vampire Daniel Riverton had briefed him on the troubled vamp who’d bitten a young woman in the middle of a Christmas concert.
Still, Baz had wanted June’s input on both events before revealing the details of his own suspicions regarding Salem’s curse. She’d personally been involved in tracking the rogue shapeshifter, Leo Gantry, who everyone surmised was somehow connected to the fiend responsible for this sinister darkness. The tip-off had been the blocking shield, an invisible force field that deflected detection. The work of a powerful spellcaster. Someone who didn’t want Gantry found. That hadn’t gone well for Gantry or Marin Bryce—the warlock Baz suspected was at the root of the all-enveloping darkness.
Baz had been on the verge of sharing Marin’s background when he’d noticed June nodding off. Her speech had slowed and her eyelids had drifted shut. One minute she’d been telling him how she’d sniffed Gantry out utilizing her keen feline senses, the next there had been silence.
He had shifted position just as June’s head had lolled. Now he held her in his arms. Unexpected, but nice.
The Keepers: Christmas in Salem: Do You Fear What I Fear?The Fright Before ChristmasUnholy NightStalking in a Winter Wonderland (Harlequin Nocturne) Page 18