I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
“No.” My voice croaked. “Is he…?” Azir grabbed my shoulders and held me up.
“It won’t be long. I’ve got to get back. His family doesn’t have time to get here. And I don’t want him to go alone.” Margie blew her nose into a tissue and then handed me a clean one.
“I’ll come with you. He feels like my family and I want to be there for him.”
Azir and Garnout both started to say something, but stopped.
In unison they said, “We’ll all go.”
So my friends and family gathered around my lovely Mr. G’s bed. His breath was raspy and rattling. His gray skin was taut against his cheeks.
I grabbed his hand.
“Witch,” he whispered.
“Yes. I’m here. We’re all here.”
At that he cranked open one eye and then closed it again. A small smile fell across his face.
“Family?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks. You’re a good girl.” He tried to squeeze my hand, but his grip was so weak.
I couldn’t hold back the sob.
“Please don’t go.”
“It’s time. She’s waiting. And I love her so….”
I knew his lovely wife was on the other side, beckoning to him. I couldn’t let my selfishness get in the way of true love.
“Save a dance for me.” I cried.
He let out one deep shuddering breath and was gone. I sobbed for half an hour and didn’t care who saw or heard.
In a strange way, Mr. G’s death helped me realize something important.
But it was hours later before I discovered it. More than anything, I knew he wanted me to celebrate his life and eventually I found my smile again. I kissed his forehead and pulled the sheet up.
I didn’t feel like going anywhere, but Azir had arranged for us all to lunch at Lulu’s. Ms. Helen and Ms. Johnnie fussed over us like we were children at a birthday party.
We ate chicken-fried steak and chocolate pie. I even wolfed down a piece of apple cobbler. “Now, that’s my girl.” Ms. Johnnie patted my head like a child as I swallowed the last bite.
“Your food is the closest thing to heaven on earth.” I stood up and hugged her. If I didn’t know better, I swear I saw a tear in her eye. She sniffled and hugged me back.
“You just take care of yourself, young lady. Helen and I have taken quite a likin’ to you, and you need to get back to one hundred percent.
“Oh, and if this sheik friend of yours has any older buddies, send ’em my way. That man’s one good-looking fella.”
I laughed. She was right about that.
Thirty-one
Wednesday, 10 P.M.
Waxing moon
Sweet, Texas
Content witches: 1
B ack at the house, I watched as Azir organized and told everyone what he or she needed to do. Weird part was not one of them seemed to mind.
Caleb supervised the workers replacing the glass panels in the conservatory. Kira cleaned up the kitchen. Even Garnout, who was in charge of keeping up my garden and seeing to my well-being, followed the orders. Wizards don’t take orders, especially from lowly humans.
But Azir had such a way about him. I fell asleep, my mind cluttered with questions. Strange dreams followed. Darby stopped by for a visit. I knew within the dream that what she said was real.
“My darling girl, thank you for bringing back my beloved Lance.” She floated through the white space in my dream and her blonde hair fell in curls around her face. “Because of your bravery all of those cursed by that wicked warlock have been set free.”
“Except for Sam.” I sighed. “I swear he’s under some kind of spell. Why else wouldn’t he open his eyes?”
“I don’t know. Once Blackstock went into the underworld, which was quite a wonderful feat on your part, all of his power should have been lost.” She touched my hair. Even though it was a dream, I could feel the pressure of her fingers.
“Your young man may be trapped in his own dreams. It happens sometimes when one warlock fights another. He may not know he isn’t conscious.”
Garnout had mentioned the same thing yesterday.
Darby faded a bit, and waved good-bye. “Just love him. He’ll find you again. My Lance did.” Her lover walked into the picture and took her hands. They disappeared into the whiteness.
Watching them gave me a tremendous sense of peace. At least I’d done one good thing.
The scene shifted in my dream. The sheik’s cousin (who, it seems, was killed in a gun battle with the prime minister’s security force) waved his hand at me and said I wasn’t good enough. Of course it didn’t seem to matter to him that he’d tried to murder his own flesh and blood.
Blackstock had used the cousin’s hate to destroy the rest of us. I’m not sorry either one of them are gone.
Azir’s brother had been possessed and had no idea that he had contributed to the assassination attempts.
I woke up wanting the only two people in my life who weren’t here. My mom and dad.
As if by magic they stood in the doorway. “How’s my girl?” my dad asked.
I started to cry. Big, strong, brave Bronwyn sobbed like a two-year-old who had lost her way.
“We’re here, darling. We know, we know,” my mother said. They sat, one on each side of me, and hugged me. No one spoke for a few minutes. As the tears subsided my dad handed me a tissue from the side table.
“The sludge is making my emotions run high. I can’t seem to keep it together for very long.” I blew my nose and wadded the flimsy paper in my hand.
“You’ve worn yourself out, honey. There’s no need to apologize. Garnout and Sheik Azir filled us in.” My mom patted my hand. “We stopped by the hospital and talked to Sam’s mother and father. They’re very nice. He must be a wonderful young man to have so many people who care about him.”
“He is. He’s really great, Mom, and I love him.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. So much that it hurts.” There. I’d said it out loud in front of my parents. It made it more real.
“You’re in love with the young man in the coma.” My father’s puzzled look made me laugh.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“I don’t—” My poor dad didn’t know what to say.
My mom reached across and squeezed his hand.
“Darling Bronwyn. Loving a man isn’t the end of the world.” My mother looked at my father. “The women on our side of the family have a very difficult time finding mates. Why do you think your grandmother married seven times? You are lucky that you found your true love so young.”
“But what about you and Daddy?”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly your mother’s first choice.” My dad blew out a breath.
“What your father’s trying to say is that I was engaged to another young man when we met. A man I loved quite dearly, but he went off to war and didn’t come back. But before all of that happened, your father and I had been friends for many years.
“One day I woke up and realized he was the man of my dreams. And we’ve been together since.”
I’d never heard about my mom’s past loves, which in hindsight is a good thing.
“So you just woke up one day and that was it?”
“Yes.” My mom brushed a hair out of my face and smiled. “You’re young yet, and instead of worrying yourself sick, be grateful you love such a wonderful man. Concentrate on helping that young Sam to heal.”
“Your mother’s right. You just have to take each day as it comes.”
“Dad, that’s so AA. But you have a point. I love Sam so much more than I thought possible. And now he might die and never know. Oh, I can’t think about it anymore. It makes my head hurt.
“Do you know if Mr. G’s family showed up?” I circled my neck to release the tension.
“Who?” My dad always had a hard time keeping up with my sometimes-disparate trains of thought.
“The older gentleman, who passed away this morning,” my mother reminded him.
“Oh, yes. Your friend—what was her name?” Dad scratched his forehead.
“Margie, dear.” Mom took over. “She said to tell you that they were so grateful you were there for him. They’re making copies of his journals for you, per his request.”
My throat caught. It might be a while before I could read those without crying, but I’d do it. I would remember the man and his life.
I hugged them both, feeling lighter. Funny how parents can always put things in perspective. They seemed so stupid when I was younger; now they’re positively brilliant.
“Do you feel up to going downstairs? Your friends Kira and Simone have put together a little surprise for you.” Mom stood and grabbed my robe from the bedpost.
After the last few weeks I wasn’t much for surprises but it’d be rude to disappoint the girls. They’d been such troopers the last few days. Everyone had.
We made our way down the stairs and I heard the mumble of voices over soft music. The twinkle lights had been hung across the living room and enchiladas permeated the air. Azir, Kira, Caleb, Garnout, and Simone sat talking on the cushy sofa and chairs.
“Welcome, witch.” Simone jumped up and handed me a strawberry margarita. “We were worried that we’d have to drink all these wonderful treasures by ourselves.”
“Not a chance, girlfriend. Not a chance. And not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why are you here? Don’t you have some demons to slay in L.A.?”
“Haven’t you heard?” She put her hand around my waist and squeezed. “The demons have decided to take a holiday.”
Everyone laughed.
She whispered, “I had to see for myself that you were okay.” The tremble in her voice almost made me cry again. We might not always agree when it comes to men, but I couldn’t find a truer friend.
Later that evening, the sheik sat by me on the sofa. Everyone had wandered into the kitchen to check out my dad’s homemade peach ice cream.
“He’s a good man.” Azir took my hand in his.
“My dad? Yes, he makes a mean bowl of ice cream.” I smiled as I heard the laughter in the kitchen.
“No, I meant Sam.” Azir’s fingers moved across mine.
“Um, yes, he is.” Okay. Now what? “I should say thank you for all you’ve done for him. And for me. You’ve been so generous.” I squeezed his hand.
“I would have done the same for any friend.”
Confused, I wondered if the black sludge had taken all of my available brain cells hostage.
He stood up abruptly. “When Garnout called the prime minister—I was so afraid you might die before we could get here. I couldn’t stand it.
“If something had happened to you, my heart would have died with you.”
“Oh.” God, I’m so good with the words.
He waved a hand before I could say anything else.
“As much as I want to take you home, lock you in, and keep you safe forever, I know that isn’t possible. It doesn’t keep me from wanting you, though. I know it’s not right.” He paced in front of the couch.
“Sam loves you, and I know you love him. He’s fighting for his life and he needs you.”
“Azir, please.” I reached up to him.
He sat down and took me by the shoulders and kissed me. Not a friendly kiss, but the I’m-after-your-tonsils, don’t-forget-me kind.
“I’m going home tomorrow. Anything you need is at your disposal, but I can’t stay here.”
“You’re a busy man, I know that.”
“That’s not the reason. I love you. I know it’s not right, and the timing couldn’t be worse, but I do.” He ran a hand through that thick black hair. His eyes so dark and unreadable.
This had to be hell for him.
He took my hands again. “This is selfish of me, I know, but I had to tell you. If you need me—”
“Hey, Bron,” Kira called from the kitchen, “one scoop or two?”
Azir snorted and shook his head.
“Kira, need you ask?” he finally bellowed through hearty chuckles. “It’s Bronwyn! She always wants two scoops of everything!”
I smiled and hugged him.
“I’ll go get your ice cream.” He moved to stand up and I grabbed his hand.
“Thank you for everything. For understanding about Sam. Just everything.”
He pulled away and almost ran to the kitchen. I’m sure he was feeling as awkward as I was.
Two amazing men cared about me. Okay, one was in a coma and the other lived on the other side of the world, but, hey, a girl could do worse.
Then it hit me hard. I needed to be with Sam. In fact, right then there was nothing more important.
I ran upstairs and threw on jeans and a pink T-shirt. Grabbed my keys from the mantel and ran for the car without ever even thinking to tell anyone where I was going.
On the drive I could hear Sam calling for me.
Sam’s parents flanked his bed, and they both smiled when I walked in.
“He hasn’t opened his eyes, but he just asked for you.” His mother reached for my hand. “Talk to him, Bronwyn. Let him know that you are here.” She and her husband moved toward the door. “Please come and get us if anything changes.”
“I will.” I sat on his bed and leaned in close to his ear.
“I love you, Sam.” I kissed his cheek. “And you are so missing out on the good stuff here. Tonight there was a party with strawberry margaritas and homemade ice cream. Ms. Johnnie and Ms. Helen promise that if you wake up you can have a free piece of pie every day for the rest of your life. And Margie’s promised free massages. Although I’m not so sure how I feel about her running her hands all over your naked body.”
He smiled.
“Sam?”
“Bron.” A whisper came through his lips.
“Oh, my God. Open your eyes and look at me.” I held my breath.
His lashes moved against his cheeks and he squinted.
I grabbed his face and kissed him hard on the lips.
“Hey.” He laughed. “Ouch.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“No. Good ouch. Water…”
I handed him the cup and put the straw to his mouth. He sipped.
Never have I been so happy to see those baby blues.
“What happened?” He tried to sit up, but grimaced with pain. He fell back on the pillow.
“You’ve been through hell, and probably shouldn’t try to move.”
“The truck, was it a tornado?”
“No. An evil warlock picked it up and smashed it into the ground. You probably never even saw him. But no worries—he’s dead meat.”
His lips twitched. “You?”
“Yes, I took care of the bastard.”
“Are you okay?” He touched my hand and squeezed.
I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks and I bit my bottom lip. I’d cried more in the past few days than I had in the last five years.
“I’m okay. Better now that you are awake. I love you.”
He pulled me closer. I kissed him again, this time softer but with no less passion.
“I love you too. So much,” he whispered against my lips. He moved his arms around me.
Yes. Wrapped in Sam’s arms, the insecurities melted away. My heart knew the truth.
My Sam. My love. At this moment in life, there was nowhere else I wanted to be.
Is it the forever kind of love Mr. G talked about? I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. I’m taking Dad’s one-day-at-a-time advice, and loving Sam with everything I have.
A veteran journalist, Candace Havens has written thousands of syndicated articles and conducted interviews with television and film celebrities, writers, producers, and directors. In addition to writing columns on everything Hollywood, she published a biography of Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and can be heard weekdays as the entertainment critic on 96.3 KSCS Dallas/Fort W
orth. This is her first novel. Visit her on the web at www.candacehavens.com.
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