Willow inspected her palm. “Y’know, it already stings less.”
The women moved to the living room. Rachelle plopped onto one of the leather recliners. “What the hell just happened?”
While Lizbeth and Willow sprawled on the couch, Jancie sank into the matching chair. She wanted to kick off her shoes, but her body resisted, like it was still on high alert. Her hand trembled as she lifted her pop to take a sip. “No idea. What an evening. If the coven leader Adara charmed Harley that much, what does she have against me? I know she has a thing for Rowe, but this is intense. I left a message for Rowe. I hope he calls.”
“I’d say he needs to do some explaining.” Rachelle nodded.
“What would Harley have done if he’d gotten a hold of me?” Jancie shivered. “Or, to you all if you were in the way?”
They looked at each other.
Jancie’s ringing phone cut their silence. She checked the display. “It’s Rowe.” She sat forward and answered.
“Jancie, it’s Rowe.” He spoke in a clipped tone, a bit out of breath. “I got your message. Are you and your friends okay?”
“Yes, we’re fine. At my house.”
“Good. As you drove off, I saw Harley following your car. Busby helped me track him. I was able to alter Adara’s spell, transforming the energy into a harmless drunken stupor.”
“Are we safe now?” She swallowed against a knot forming in the base of her throat.
“Yes. I’m outside your house and will place a protection spell around the property.”
Jancie moved to the side of the front picture window and peeked around the open curtain edge. A pale green roadster gleamed under the light of a street lamp. She raised her hand to the glass. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad to see you safe.” His voice relaxed. “The shielding won’t be permanent because it’s only powered by my own direct force. It will tax me to keep the protection strong, but it will hold through the night. After I set the shield, I’ll leave to find a trustworthy friend who can cast a longer-lasting spell. I’ll be back in the morning with her. If you need anything, or hear or see anything, call me.”
“I will. Thank you.” Her fingers found the chain around her neck. “Will Harley remember what happened?” The last thing she needed was more trouble from her dad telling her he’d been right.
Rowe chuckled. “Probably not. I left him drunk as a skunk.”
Jancie let out a sigh and finally let her shoulders relax. “That’s good.”
“Why would his memory worry you?”
“Long story. My dad.” Jancie kept her answer brief. She didn’t want Rowe to know her dad attempted to control her like a child. She was an adult and wanted Rowe to think of her that way, regardless of whatever Dad believed.
“Something I can help with?” Rowe’s voice rose.
“No. I can handle it.” The moonstone on her chest reflected in the window. “Should I take off the moonstone?”
“No. Do not take it off. It guided me to find you.”
Her heart beat against the locket. “Can others, like Adara, use it to find me?”
“I don’t know. The moonstone’s magic is old and unknown. It makes sense that I’d be able to easily track its power. And right now, I’m relieved for that much.”
“Me, too.”
He stepped out of his car and rounded the hood. “Try to get some rest.” He tipped his hat and disappeared into the shadows of her side yard.
“I will.” She exhaled away from the phone, hoping he couldn’t read her fear.
Chapter Eleven: Bones and Stones
Rowe rounded Jancie’s house, casting a protection spell as he stepped through the dew-laden grass. In the backyard, energy from what must have been her mother’s garden challenged his concentration. He glanced at the plot but worked to maintain his focus.
At his shoulder, Busby swallowed a squawk that caused Rowe to flinch. “Sorry, master,” he whispered and hovered above the unusual garden.
Once Rowe completed the circular safe ward around the property, he retraced his steps and met up with the barn owl perched above a silver-leafed stem and staring nose-down in fascination.
A faint violet glow, almost imperceptible, cloaked the plot, arching across long, graceful stems and twisting up wandering vines. Rowe passed a hand over his forehead, in awe of the site, certain he beheld the love between mother and daughter. Although he could detect the certain essence of Jancie’s mother, Faye Sadler, perhaps in some form of animation, there was something greater happening here. Magic of the earth was not his specialty. But his Vika would know more.
“Let’s go.” Not wasting another moment, he motioned to Busby and strode to his car. Rowe hoped the old woman, or more likely her temperamental Maine Coon familiar, would be willing to work late into this night.
He gave a final look toward the front picture window, where lamplight formed a woman’s silhouette. The power of the moonstone made Rowe’s pulse beat stronger. Jancie. He raised his palm to her and drove away.
Where the streetlights gave way to darker countryside, he pulled to the side of the road and scanned the sky for his barn owl’s white face. “We’re going to Vika’s and need to travel fast. Come perch on the back of the front seat.” He stowed his hat on the floor while waiting.
“Please, Master, I can fly faster now, and I know the way.” With wings stretched wide, the owl impressed Rowe.
“Okay. If you get into trouble, let out a call.” Rowe pressed on the accelerator and sped as fast as he dared around a series of turns toward the woods where Vika lived. At the last turn, the waxing crescent moon shone from behind the edge of a cloud with the intense illumination of a full moon. A definite sign that her knowledge could help. Rowe slowed to a crawl, and Busby’s round, pale face grew larger in his rearview mirror. Relieved, his heart swelled with pride at the fortitude of his familiar. Together, they wound through the tall trees to Vika’s rambling storybook cottage.
She met them on her front porch clutching a rustic shawl about her shoulders.
Her Maine Coon cat wove between her calves.
“I’m sorry for another late night visit.” Rowe leapt across the stepping stones two at a time.
“No need to be sorry.” She leaned down to stroke Siddie’s thick fur. “If you’re needing my help, it just means you’re living a full life.”
A hoot sounded from a wide branch near the porch.
Vika curtsied to the mature barn owl. “Thanks for your communication, Maeira.” She faced Rowe. “Edme’s owl told me you were coming.”
The matron owl clapped her beak as her son took a nearby perch.
“I almost skidded off a few turns to get here fast. Busby flew hard and kept pace all the way.”
The tan breast feathers of the younger owl swelled in the porch light.
Rowe waved for the owls to follow them into the house. “Busby, I need you to describe to Vika what you saw in Jancie’s garden.”
When the owls swooped to the porch, Siddie burst into a frenzy of hisses and snarls. Silver tabby fur on end, sharp canines bared, and green-yellow eyes glinting, she looked like a lynx protecting her den.
Busby squirmed to a mid-air hover, while his mother pinned her ears and dove for the huge cat.
Rowe lifted his forearm up to encourage Busby to land clear of the skirmish. Talons cut through his coat jacket and grazed his skin, and Rowe pulled his squawking owl next to his torso.
“Siddie, stop!” Vika screamed as the cat and owl rolled into a single grappling ball at her feet. She filled her palm with white light and extended her fingers down. Threads of light encircled her familiar’s neck and formed a magical leash.
The cat pulled at the cord and croaked a series of dry coughs at Maeira, who somersaulted backward to land awkwardly on her feet before waddling behind Rowe.
“I’m sorry to have to do this to you, sweet one. I expect you to treat these owls as our guests. They’re familiars too, just like you, and a
re allowed inside. They’ve been here a few times before without this ruckus.” She looked up to Rowe. “She’s so used to our house being for just us two. I just don’t know what this is about. Something’s upset her tonight.”
Rowe stooped to pat the Maine Coon. “Siddie, I’m glad to see how well you protect my dear Vika.”
“Welcome.” Siddie choked out the single word, lifted her long tail, and pranced across the threshold ahead of everyone shooting a backward glance at the owls.
Rowe and Vika exchanged a questioning look and filed after her with the two owls.
They gathered in the large country kitchen used for potion making. Vika tied the end of the leash around her wrist and sat on one of the long benches. Holding the table edge to bend low, she treated Siddie’s wounds with her white light. Tucking the Maine Coon’s wide head and as much of the body as possible under the hem of her nightgown proved harder.
The fast-thumping tail that stuck out and whacked the planked floor indicated Siddie’s displeasure with her mistress’s disciplinary measures.
Rowe moved Busby to the back of a primitive wooden chair where his talons couldn’t harm much. He found Maeira teetering along the floor as far from Siddie as possible and encouraged her to a matching chair. After a few attempts, she hopped to the seat. A handful of Rowe’s blue light soothed her injuries. She leaned against the seatback, beak open, tongue panting.
“Now tell me what in tar-nation has brought on this uproar tonight?” Vika set her gaze on Rowe as he took a place opposite her at the long trestle table. “The wind blew from the carnival tonight, and I smelled Adara’s black power.” She raised a single brow. “And I see you don’t have your locket. I hope at least that part is good.”
“I think it is.” His hand moved automatically to his chest. “The moonstone connected to the young woman, Jancie. I helped her say goodbye to her deceased mother whom she cared for during a long illness with cancer.”
“Poor girl. I’m glad you could help her.” Vika’s eyes moved beyond Rowe as if lost in thought. “And now she’s obligated to return the favor of lifting your grief. She’s either your new love or will lead you to that lady. And that set off Adara’s torrent, which I felt.’
“I’m afraid so.” Rowe leaned his elbows onto the table and explained the incidents involving Harley. “I’ve set a simple protection ward around Jancie’s house, but it won’t last.”
Vika shook her head. “Lots of strong magic in the air tonight. No wonder these familiars are acting up. Siddie was off her feed earlier tonight.”
“I need your help to keep Jancie safe until Adara gets tired of her game.”
The elderly friend focused on him. “That could be a good long time.” Her hooked nose twitched. “Then again, there’s a full moon in seven nights, and powers will run high. And the Mabon equinox comes in just over two weeks, a good time for Adara to be helped down a new path. Hmm.” She touched a finger to the wriggling nose as if thoughts were stuck there. “This being a holiday weekend, Jancie should be home from work until Tuesday, right?”
“Yes, I think so. She works at a bank.”
“Your basic ward will only last about a day. I’ll prepare some preliminary potions tonight but will need to finish and apply them at her house in the morning.”
“I’ll take you there whenever you’re ready.”
“On what to do to actually stop Adara, I’ve got a hunch, but I need to spend time thinkin’ on it.” A slow hissing sounded from underneath her, and she peered to the floor. “Siddie, be a good girl.” Vika continued to Rowe. “Before she acts up again, what did your owl see that might help me?”
“When Jancie connected to her mother’s ghost, they discussed a garden on the home-place where Jancie still lives. It belonged to her mother, and they’d worked the plot together when she lived. The ghost seemed aware that Jancie had recently tended the patch.” Rowe rubbed a hand along his forehead. “The odd part was when I was at the house setting my ward, there was an energy around the garden plants. Some sort of loving bond between mother and daughter, so strong it was transfixing. But there seemed to be something more there than I could read.”
“Interesting. Anything visible?” Vika leaned forward.
“A faint purple glow loosely followed the stems. Almost imperceptible.” He looked to Busby. “You took more time studying those plants. What did you see?”
The smaller owl fluttered his wingtips, which drew a hiss from the cat.
“It’s all right. Go on.” Vika dropped a hand to her side.
“There were tiny voices, but I couldn’t make out what they said. I heard their tone, in quick bursts like they were scared of me, so I drew back a little bit. After a while, I saw things climbing the plant stems, and I hovered closer. I saw pinpricks of purple light darting behind leaves.”
Rowe placed a hand on the tabletop and stared at Vika. “Fae?”
She nodded, her white brows pulling together.
“Those faeries can be directed to help Jancie, right?” Without waiting for a reply, Rowe moved to his familiar and ruffled the bird’s neck feathers. “I’m grateful for your keen eyes and ears, Busby.” He gazed at Vika who now gripped the table edge, a frown deepening the wrinkles around her mouth. His jaw tightened, and he asked in a flat measured tone, “How did those fae get in Jancie’s garden?”
“That’s what worries me. Fae have died out in most home gardens and only live in the wild along forest steams. I have a healthy community of them around my herbs but know how to keep them. Most don’t. Not even here in the coven. It takes a good Earth witch. Like Adara.” Saying the coven leader’s name made Vika grimace as if in pain. “If she set them there, they can cause serious danger that I’ll be hard pressed to fight.” She exhaled between clenched teeth. “We don’t want that battle.” She pushed herself away from the table. “Time to get to work.”
“Can I help you?” he offered.
She shook her head. “No, thank you, dear. Siddie and I work as a well-oiled team. More hands would only slow me down.”
“When should I come back for you?” Rowe held his forearm out for Busby.
Paying no notice to the departing owls, Siddie jumped onto the bench and peered at the stained page of the well-worn family grimoire alongside her mistress.
Vika didn’t look up to see them out. “I want to arrive at Jancie’s an hour before dawn. No later.”
***
Rowe sped home almost overtaking his headlights, although he didn’t know why he hurried. Vika was the one under pressure of time. But the biting fall night air stung his face with dark magic.
He pulled open the front door against the strong north wind and held an arm out to prevent the owls from entering before him. Over his shoulder he whispered, “Let me check for any foreign energy first.” In the foyer, crystals of the grand entry chandelier reflected the security light shining through the open door. He addressed the massive hall tree. “Uncle Bertrand, did anyone enter the house while I was away?”
The oak boards creaked. “No one. I assure you we’ve kept the house secure.” He swung an umbrella hanging from one of his hooks in front of his mirror.
Rowe returned his deceased uncle’s salute.
Maeira sailed past to a familiar brass perch that had been hers when she served as Edme’s familiar. The owl slumped down onto her feet, and Busby took a place on the opposite rung.
Rowe paused. Maeira had roosted on that perch during his happy marriage to Edme. He sighed and flicked on a Tiffany table lamp in order to examine the matron owl. He passed a palm of blue healing light over her body but found no residual injury. Before he finished, she gave soft snerts of slumber. He was glad to be able to offer her the comfort of the home where she’d lived with Edme.
A knock on the door startled Rowe. He spun on one heel and swept both arms up. Waves of his power alerted the animations of his departed family.
“Rowe, it’s me, Logan,” the familiar voice of his friend called from outside.
“And Keir,” added a second male voice, Rowe’s hiking buddy.
Surprised they were there at that late hour, Rowe dropped his arms and cracked the door. Seeing it was in fact them, he opened it wide. “Sorry to be so cautious.” Rowe glanced at Keir, fully adorned in his ceremonial necklaces, and wondered if the seer had foreseen something he needed to know.
“No problem,” Logan said as he and Keir hung their fedoras on Bertrand’s outstretched hooks that lifted to secure the hats. “There’s some strange shit in the air tonight. Is Jancie safe?” Logan ran a hand through his unruly golden curls. The muscles along his chiseled jaw spasmed.
Rowe nodded. “I set a protection ward, and Vika will help tomorrow.”
“That’ll do.” Logan unbuttoned his suit coat and loosened his tie. “No one’s better than Vika.” He waved off Bertrand’s offer to hold the jacket.
Keir lowered a leather satchel to the floor, while his familiar, a dark-haired coyote named Waapake, streamed in beside his master, quick eyes scanning every corner.
Rowe glanced over his shoulder at the owls.
Maeira slept on, and Busby only fluttered the ruffled ends of his wing feathers. No surprise, since, unlike Siddie, Waapake was a calm and calculated sort, a gift presented to Keir upon his remarkable achievement in studies with a Shawnee Indian wise man. The coyote’s name meant ‘to see,’ and the canine made shrewd use of his master’s magic. Waapake’s kept his huge ears pricked high and wet nose lifted.
“It’s really true.” Keir’s usually pale blue eyes turned a steely gray as he lifted a palm to Rowe’s chest. “Look into my eyes.”
Standing close and inch for inch all of Rowe’s height, the seer commanded his complete attention.
“Logan told me about the moonstone, but I had to see for myself. How strange.” His hand jerked, then he relaxed it to his side. “The gem’s energy is still there. But it’s laced with that of a lovely ginger-haired young lady.” He raised a bushy, black brow as a grin cut across the stubble shadowing his face. “She must be why I haven’t had the company of my hiking partner the past week. Just me and Waapake. Up in the hills, we did have a curious talk with Cyril that I’m still digesting. You remember the raccoon king of Coon Hollow?”
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