The passenger door opened suddenly, jerking June out of her reverie. She gave a startled gasp, anticipating a hostile force. But instead of a malevolent warlock, an old woman wearing a festive hooded cloak and smelling strongly of healing and purification herbs, climbed inside.
For crying out... “Esmeralda.”
“Put this monstrosity in gear and hit the gas, Juniper,” Esmeralda croaked. “We’ve got people to see.”
“But you’re sick.”
“I’ll live. For a while longer anyway.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“I’m surprised you care.”
“Of course I care.” The woman was Baz’s grandmother. She’d been a good friend of June’s grandfather and, although they’d knocked heads from time to time, she’d worked closely with June’s dad and uncle. Even June had felt affection for the high priestess...until she’d learned of the spell. “Did Baz tell you I was coming over?”
“He didn’t have to. We’re under attack. Naturally we’ll want to fight back. You’re our Keeper. It’s your job to keep the peace between us and humans. That said, yes, my grandson called me.”
Knowing his intentions were good, it was hard to be mad. Still, did it mean he thought June was incapable of mending bridges and enlisting help on her own?
Esmeralda’s gaze was strong and steady even though her body was obviously hurting. “Your plan is inspired, Juniper.”
The compliment made her uncomfortable. “I was influenced by something Baz said.” She turned on the engine and kicked up the heat, hoping to keep the chill out of Esmeralda’s old bones. “When he first told me that you two suspected Marin, he mentioned the danger of retaliating with hostile measures. He said if we acted in anger or desperation, we’d be playing into Marin’s hands and strengthening the spell.”
“You know the old saying. Negativity breeds negativity.”
“I’m hoping an overwhelming dose of good might act as a counter spell of sorts, buying us time to find a real solution.”
“It can’t hurt.”
“Speaking of goodwill...” June squirmed in her seat. “I’d like to clear the air about our past quarrel.”
“I don’t recall us quarreling, Juniper. I recall you shouting at me and refusing to allow me to explain my actions. You were practically hysterical.”
“Yes, well—”
“Would you like me to explain now?”
June nodded. She sincerely needed to make peace with this woman, and with herself. She’d been harboring resentment for eight years. Talk about a boatload of negativity...
“As you know, my grandson used to be quite the rebel. He got into more trouble than I’m sure you’re aware of. Your father and Artemis were good about helping to defuse certain situations. At any rate, I worried Baz’s short temper and impetuous nature would land him in hot water with human law officials or the Other council sooner rather than later. Either could taint his future as the high priest of the coven. He needed a distraction, a gentle influence. He needed to settle down. I knew his soul mate was out there. I simply invited the gods and goddesses into my circle and asked for their help. I never mentioned your name, Juniper.”
June blinked. “But Talia Jamison told me she overheard you talking to her mother about how you cast a love spell on me and Baz.”
“I did indeed have a conversation with Talia’s mother. Basha’s one of my dearest friends, but Talia either misunderstood or embellished the story. That girl’s always been one for stirring things up. You should know that.”
June did know. But at the time Talia had been so convincing, so sure of herself, whereas June had been waiting for the next bad thing to happen in her life. Talia had delivered the anticipated catastrophe.
“When Baz took a sudden shine to you,” Esmeralda went on, “I assumed you were the one. I was surprised, but pleased. You were such a sweet girl, and you had an immediate positive effect on my grandson. But then you fell prey to gossip and believed the worst. Of me. Of Basel. Your lack of faith in us and in yourself was unsettling. Either you weren’t Basel’s soul mate or the timing was off. You were only eighteen at the time. As you railed at me, I realized how very young you were. Insecure and emotionally fragile. I attributed it to losing your parents not two years before and then bouncing between the homes of various relatives. Although I know for a fact the constant shifting around was unnecessary.”
“I didn’t want to be a burden on any one family for too long,” June blurted. She’d had a horrible time adjusting to the loss of her parents. And although all of her cousins’ families had been more than happy to take her in, she had felt out of place in every home. Looking back, she supposed it didn’t help that she’d also been dealing with normal moody teenage issues. Baz had coaxed her out of her longtime funk, a funk she’d tried very hard to keep to herself. Their six-month relationship had been fast and torrid. It had always felt too good to be true. So it made sense, she supposed, that she’d so easily embraced the notion that their love was a bewitched farce.
“No one thought you a burden,” Esmeralda said. “But I understand why you might have felt that way. Your sensitivity will serve you well as a Keeper. Insecurity, however, will not.”
June swallowed, absorbing Esmeralda’s thoughts and her apparent confidence in June’s abilities.
“You’ve been away a long time, child. You’ve traveled abroad, immersed yourself in your studies. You came back when you were needed and, although it took you overly long, you’re ready to assume your position. You have my backing.” She arched a silver brow. “If you want it.”
“I want it.” Something shifted inside June. She couldn’t name it exactly, but it was close to a feeling of invincibility. “I can beat Marin, Esmeralda. That is, we can beat him. I refuse to believe he’s capable of successfully manipulating a witch hunt and damning Salem to eternal darkness. He can’t be that powerful. We can’t be that weak. Working together, we’ll beat back the negativity and intolerance.”
“I’ve already reached out to my coven,” Esmeralda said, “but we’ll need additional support. Let’s start with Mica Templeton. She carries a lot of weight with the Wiccan faction. She’s at her store. I phoned ahead.”
Mica was a close friend of Sam’s. Her store, Ye Olde Tyme Shoppe, was on Essex Street, not far from Mycroft House. June steered her inherited SUV in that direction. “I’m sorry I didn’t pay my respects in person sooner, Esmeralda. It was rude.”
“Yes, it was. But I don’t hold it against you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have faith in you. In who you were born to be.”
“And that would be...”
“A wise and strong Keeper.”
“How can you know that?”
“How can you not know that? You’re a Twist. It’s in your blood.”
Was it? June’s stomach twisted as a memory flared. She loved her dad. Worshipped her dad. She still treasured his every word. Surely his assessment of her character had had merit. For certain it had influenced her mind-set.
“Spit it out, Juniper.”
“Being a Keeper may be in my blood, but I might not have the stomach for it long-term.”
“Who put that stupid notion in your head?”
“My dad.” She took the turn from Herbert Street to Essex too quickly, causing the SUV to slide on the slushy pavement. She compensated, but her nerves jangled all the same. Esmeralda had discovered her Achilles’ heel. Her dad. Or rather, her dad’s doubts in her ability to fulfill her destiny.
“What did Merle say? Exactly.”
June flexed her hands on the steering wheel. She would never forget his words. Ever. “I was fifteen at the time, and volunteering at a homeless shelter during winter solstice. There were so many, of all faiths, who had so little. There was an altercation between a human and an Other and I... Well, I panicked. Dad stepped in. After he addressed the situation, he hugged me close and told me it was a good thing that the role of Keeper would ne
ver fall to me. He said I was too sweet. Too kind.” Her heart ached. “How is there such a thing as too kind?”
“There isn’t.” Esmeralda sneezed into an old-fashioned handkerchief. “Merle was a good Keeper, but he was also a chauvinistic ass.” She pointed. “There’s Mica’s shop. Pull over.”
June did as ordered, but frowned. “Are you dissing my dad?”
“I suppose I am. Men. They have this ingrained primal sense of dominance. Listen to your heart, Juniper.” Esmeralda cut her a meaningful glance. “In all matters.”
June shut off the engine, but her mind was revved. “We’re here,” she said.
“Yes, we are.” Esmeralda unclasped her seat belt. “Let’s kick some witch butt.”
Chapter 10
Baz was astounded by the overwhelming response to his holiday plea. Yes, he had faith in the good people of Salem—human and Other—but this was above and beyond his wildest expectations.
After rousing his crew and putting them on standby, he’d paid a visit to Father Chopra, who was trying to comfort his parishioners on the loss of their church. The focus of the man’s ministry was on community, so he was overjoyed by Baz’s proposition. The priest had no illusions about raising a church in one day, but he welcomed the opportunity to bring people together in hope. His mind-set mirrored June’s. A proactive response to the crisis would spark positive energy, and even a sturdy tent would fill the bill.
Baz had assured the man they could do better.
Together they’d contacted the mayor, who, as it turned out, was desperate to promote optimism and goodwill as a way of combating the effects of the unnatural and unrelenting darkness. He, too, was worried about the fate of Salem and its people. Enough so that he convinced the police and fire departments and assorted commissions to bend their rules and aid Baz and Father Chopra in their frantic quest to provide the congregation with a place to celebrate Christmas. As a group, they decided to designate a portion of Salem Common as home for the temporary house of worship, since the park was only a few short blocks from the original church.
Two hours after parting ways with June, Baz was on site along with his crew and approximately fifty city workers who’d all agreed to volunteer their time and energy.
On Christmas Day.
Engineers, electricians, architects. Subcontractors specializing in framing, roofing, drywalling and flooring.
June had been successful in her quest, as well. More Wiccans and magicals had been rolling in by the minute, every man and woman ready to attack whatever task they were assigned. In addition, she had called her Keeper cousins. They’d alerted their charges, and now skilled laborers from the Other community were also hard at work. The greatest challenge had been in getting everyone organized, but now everything was going smoothly.
Almost too smoothly.
Baz stepped away from the quickly drawn-up diagrams he’d been studying with a local architect. The grounds had been flooded with halogen power lights illuminating the work space as well as the workers. Given Marin’s ability to body hop, the warlock could be anywhere, even here. Baz didn’t possess June’s feline sixth sense. The enemy could be standing right next to him in the form of one of his WizBang crew and he wouldn’t know it. It made him twitchy.
“Can you believe this turnout?”
He turned just as June came hurrying toward him, sidestepping lumber and mounting supplies. His heart skipped at the sight of her. “You got an amazing response, Bug.”
“Thanks to Esmeralda.”
“She called me on my cell after you dropped her at home. She was impressed with your charm and intelligence. Said you could talk a witch without a broom into buying a Hoover.”
June rolled her eyes. “As if vacuums can fly.”
“Thanks for talking her into going home instead of weathering this cold.”
“My greatest challenge of the morning. She’s a little on the, um, determined side.”
Baz grinned. “You mean stubborn.”
“Yeah. Well.” She rocked back on her booted heels, her cheeks flushing as she held his gaze.
Either she was chilled from the frigid wind or she sensed his need to kiss her senseless. He’d worried about her every second she’d been out of his sight. Now that she was here, an obsessive, protective impulse flared. He wasn’t sure what he would do to Marin—or to anyone, for that matter—who ever caused June harm. The realization rocked his hard-fought calm. Given his powerful magical skills, he knew he could do some serious damage.
They stood inches apart—trying to look professional, he supposed. The Keeper and the future high priest of the magicals. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. She wrapped her arms around her middle. “A television crew is on its way,” he said matter-of-factly. “They’re keen on reporting a positive story. Imagine that.”
“Mica’s organizing a day-long feast for everyone working on the church,” June said with the same detached tone. “They’re setting up tents and tables and bringing in portable heaters. A place for workers to rest and have something to eat.”
“Samantha found me a few minutes ago,” Baz said, aching to pull June into his arms. “Told me she enlisted Rabbi Solomon, Father Alistair and Rabbi Jenowitz, who each enlisted their flocks. There are other clergy members on the way, as well.”
“Sam knows everyone.” June glanced around at the organized chaos. “Everyone’s here or on their way, Baz. Every faith. It’s overwhelming.”
“It’s inspiring.”
They fell into an awkward silence. Construction was underway. The noise was deafening, the crush of people distracting.
He reached out, and when June took his hand, he silently led her through the crowded site. He targeted someplace quiet and private, barely making it into a copse of trees before pulling her into his arms and claiming her mouth in a torrid, possessive kiss.
She responded fervently, matching his passion, driving him mad.
Moments later she pushed him away to arm’s length. “Wait. This is wrong. The timing is wrong. We’re in the middle of a crisis.”
“Right.” He disentangled her hands from the back of his neck. He kissed her knuckles, then angled his head. “Every man has a weakness, Bug, and you’re mine.” He cursed the pang in his gut. “It scares me.”
She shook her head. “Is this about us sleeping together? Are you worried I’m going to ask you to commit? I know you’re not the marrying kind.”
“Dammit, Juniper.” Temper flaring, he released her hands and braced himself against a tree trunk. “You don’t know me at all.”
“It’s just...” She hugged herself, looking flustered. “Us. Hooking up and talking about making a long-term commitment in one day after being estranged for eight years. Don’t you think that’s weird?”
He met her eyes steadily but didn’t speak.
“Three Keepers all getting engaged within twenty-four hours. What are the chances? Unless...”
“Unless what?” He narrowed his eyes.
She broke his gaze, shrugged.
Oh, hell, no. “You’re kidding, right? You think your cousins are bewitched? That some magical cast a Keeper love spell?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I just think it’s weird.”
“I get that!”
“Why are you angry?”
“Because I love you, dammit! Always have. Always will. And it’s torture, quite frankly, because you don’t have faith in my feelings. Hell, you don’t have faith in anything.” Furious, Baz straightened away from the tree. He could feel negative energy pulsing through him, skewing his judgment. He’d lost control. He’d lashed out. This was bad. “We should get back.” He needed to cool off. To calm down.
He grasped June’s hand and led her back toward the crowded building site. She didn’t fight him. Didn’t argue. Of course she didn’t. Because even after reconnecting in bed, after he’d poured his genuine affection into their lovemaking, she couldn’t ta
ke a leap of faith and believe that they were destined to be together. She didn’t believe in soul mates. Or St. Nick. Or the magic of Christmas. He wanted to believe enough for the both of them, but all his optimism was submerged with the anger swirling inside him.
Maybe she was right to push him away. Looking toward the future, how could he spend his life married to a woman who tested his patience at every opportunity? Not to mention that the very thought of someone hurting her tempted him to do bad things in her defense. As a Keeper, she would knock heads occasionally with both humans and Others. Things could get rough. How would she feel if he lashed out in her defense? If he fell back into his old ways?
She wouldn’t like it.
And neither would I.
Chapter 11
June was shell-shocked.
Baz loved her, although he didn’t seem happy about it.
He’d caught her off guard with his declaration, with his anger. He’d intimated marriage. She was at a loss for words, and his hustling her back into the construction craziness didn’t help. It was crowded and noisy, even more so than before. Christmas music blared from the Salem Common bandstand, where a group had set up and the lead singer was merrily belting out a rock version of “Joy to the World.”
Baz let go of her hand and rejoined Father Chopra and the men who were constructing the frame of the temporary church.
She rubbed her palm across her forehead, trying to wrangle her thoughts and emotions.
A jolly bearded man was dressed as Santa Claus and seated on a velvet throne. Where had that come from? He was surrounded by costumed “elves”—Santa’s helpers—and bags and bags of gifts. Children were waiting patiently in line.
“They’re from the homeless shelter.”
She started at the sound of Samantha’s voice so close to her ear. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Who’s sneaking?” Sam nudged her and smiled. “Get this. Word is spreading like crazy about this goodwill project. They’re calling it the Winter Festival of Hope. One newscaster reported that a bunch of toys were destroyed in the fire. Toys that the congregation had intended for the less fortunate.” She pointed to Santa and his elves. “All those toys? They were donated by children for children. Kids who woke up in warm houses, in their own beds, and who were treated to lots of gifts from Santa and their parents.”
The Keepers: Christmas in Salem: Do You Fear What I Fear?The Fright Before ChristmasUnholy NightStalking in a Winter Wonderland (Harlequin Nocturne) Page 22