Dominic got to his feet. “It’s not just you and your friends who are in danger. There are a lot more people at risk. I can show you proof if you give me a chance.”
Hannah sighed. She desperately wanted to believe him, but couldn’t bring herself to do so at the moment. “I need some time, Dominic. You’ve said a lot that I just can’t handle right now.”
He nodded. “I get that.”
She walked him to the door, and, as he stepped outside, he said, “Be careful, Hannah. These people mean business.”
“Goodbye, Dominic.”
Hannah placed the beakers on her worktable. They were filled with samples from the magical stream that ran through Coven’s Grove. It was time to run her weekly battery of tests, checking for abnormalities magical and natural. Hannah used to run them every day during those first few months after she, Miranda, and Rhea had created the mystical stream. She had been so excited to see the results back then, and, even though the process had lost a bit of its luster, she still enjoyed seeing their successful venture be tested and pass. Today, however, her heart wasn’t in it. Thoughts of Dominic dominated her mind.
Hannah plopped down on a stool by the counter to wait for the test results. Her view from the greenhouse proved to be nothing short of spectacular as the sun began to dip below the trees. Hues of violet, orange, and blue filled the sky with a romantic air that only made the melancholy Hannah was feeling that much worse. It’d been over a week since she last spoke with Dominic, and she’d thought about his words every day that had followed. His story had seemed so outrageous when she’d first heard it, but as she pondered the the facts that she knew—Dongle Tower had been broken into, Dominic did have a reputation for trouble, and Coven’s Grove was at constant odds with the oil giant—the more she started to think that Dominic was telling the truth, or at least partial truths. The accusation that Dongle Inc. wanted her dead was something she just couldn’t believe. She didn’t see herself as that big of a threat to them, yet.
The image of the man himself was a constant distraction in Hannah’s mind as well. The desire to touch him, and be touched by him, grew with every passing day. In fact, she had almost called him last night, but stopped herself, settling for a disappointing session of masturbation instead.
You’re so sad, she pouted. The damnable Atingere was about to drive her insane. She wished she’d never heard of the cursed thing. She gritted her teeth in frustration at how unfair it was for witches to have to deal with such an enslaving sexual impulse, which of course was about as ridiculous as being enraged about the sun setting at the end of each day, but she didn’t care—she was pissed.
Hannah knew her anger at Dominic was misplaced. She had her secrets too, and faulting him for his would be total hypocrisy on her part. Not to mention experiencing the touch with him... Would Atingere really have chosen someone that was bad for her? She didn’t think so.
Her mind and heart had grown weary of the debate during the past week. Hannah’s deductions had produced more reasons for her to try and work things out with him than not, and the yearning within her to see him again was slowly tearing her apart. Whether or not she wanted to admit it, the decision had been made. I’ve got to call him, she thought with no small amount of relief.
Before Hannah realized what she was doing, her cell was in her hand, and she dialed Dominic’s number. Her gaze drifted to the beakers as the phone began to ring. Dread chilled her to the bone on seeing the rapid discoloration of the water samples.
“What the hell?” Hannah murmured. In the four years she had been testing the mystical stream, not once had it shown signs of contamination. The ringing of her cell fell into the background as she watched the blotches of inky-gray spread so that each beaker was no longer transparent. Realization dawned on her with horrible clarity: her life’s work had been poisoned.
“You have reached the voicemail of Dominic,” the speaker of Hannah’s phone blared. “Please leave a message after the tone.”
Hannah let the phone drop to the counter, her focus completely on the fouled water samples. She snatched a beaker out of the holder, and rushed it over to one of her lab tables. She had insisted on a laboratory being built into the greenhouse during the initial construction of the facility. It had become her second home in many ways, but right now she hardly noticed the comforts she’d depended on for the past few years. She dabbed a few drops of the contaminated water onto a slide, and took a closer look at it through the microscope.
“Son of a bitch!” Hannah slammed a fist on the table.
There were several types of contaminates she always looked for. The first being various natural elements, the second being man-made chemical concoctions, and the third magical abnormalities. What she saw under the scope was a mixture of oil, quaternary ammonium chloride, tetrakis hydroxymethyl-phosphonium sulfate, and a number of other chemicals she didn’t recognize offhand. The chloride and sulfate were definitely hazardous to the plant life, as well as any humans or animals that might come into contact with the chemicals.
Hannah could only guess how the chemicals had gotten into the water, but she had the sinking suspicion that it was related to what Dominic had been telling her about Dongle Inc., and their unsavory tactics. She was going to have to tell Miranda. She was going to have to tell her everything: the relationship with Dominic, the break in at Dongle Tower, and the fact that there might be a contract out on all their lives. Suddenly, she felt foolish for not saying something sooner. She just hadn’t been able to bring herself to believe such incredibly outlandish accusations, but now, she was beginning to think Dominic’s claims weren’t so far off.
Hot, Love, Sex rang from Hannah’s cell, jolting her out of her thoughts. Dominic. She got up and answered the phone. “Hey, we need to—”
“Hannah,” Dominic interrupted in a raspy whisper. “You’re in danger... You have to believe me.”
Hannah felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped fifty degrees as her skin erupted in goosebumps. She’d never heard Dominic’s voice sound so desperate and haggard. She fought the fear. “Where are you?”
Sounds of shuffling and a click answered her.
“Dominic!” Hannah yelled. “Dominic, are you there?!”
The only sound was the continuous dial tone of a dead line.
Hannah was hesitant to call him back. Dominic’s situation seemed to be dire, and what if her call put him in greater danger? What if her initial call, for that matter, had placed him in jeopardy to begin with? What if everything he had been saying was the truth? The chilling fear from before turned to ice in her veins. She had to warn the others and find Dominic.
Hannah raced for the house, her heart pounding like a sledgehammer. The sun had gone down, so the only light she had to navigate by came from the lampposts that covered the grounds. In her mind, every shadow held a sniper. Every corner hid an attacker. Every second that passed could be her last. Her over-stimulated imagination only drove her to run that much faster.
Hannah charged through the French doors on the northern side of the mansion. “Miranda!” she yelled. “Miranda, where are you?!” She continued to run through the halls, glancing in each room as she passed them. “Miranda!”
“What is it?!” Miranda stepped out from her study into the hallway, a mixture of irritation and consternation knitted between her brows. “What’s going on?”
“Dominic’s in trouble,” Hannah breathed as she came to a halt in front of Miranda. “We’re in trouble.”
Miranda frowned. “Explain, please.”
Hannah laid it all out for her. The touch in San Antonio, the love affair, the break in… everything. Coming clean felt like a ton of bricks falling off of her shoulders. More than that, though, telling Miranda everything had empowered Hannah’s resolve. When she started her tale, she’d doubted herself and the decisions she’d made, but, by the end, her conviction that Dominic was on the level had grown.
“You believe him?” Miranda asked, after a moment
of contemplation. Her features had smoothed into the formal demeanor of the matriarch. No worry or fear showed through the woman’s granite facade.
“At first, I didn’t,” Hannah said, truthfully. “But now... yes, I do.”
Miranda nodded. “We must prepare for the worst. Collect Alix and Troy—”
“I have to find Dominic,” Hannah interrupted. She knew the coven needed protecting, but her heart would not allow her to sit by and do nothing if the foolish man was in as much trouble as she feared.
The look on Miranda’s face was still stolid. Her eyes, however, blazed with anger.
“Please,” Hannah said before the matriarch could voice her thoughts. She swallowed in an attempt to quench the dryness in her mouth, and whispered, “I love him.”
Miranda’s stern gaze softened at hearing Hannah’s words, and she sighed. “Find Rhea, and take her with you. I will stay here and keep watch.”
Relief washed over Hannah, and she embraced Miranda. “Thank you.”
“Don’t be gone long,” Miranda said, as they broke apart. “I need you here.”
“I won’t,” Hannah answered. And, then, she was running again, this time to Rhea’s cottage. She punched numbers on her cell as she ran in hopes of catching Rhea more quickly.
The phone rang four times before Rhea answered, “Yeah?”
“Oh, thank God!” Hannah said between breaths. “Where are you?”
“I’m at the res, why?” Rhea replied.
“Shit!” Hannah slowed to a walk. No point in running to Rhea’s cottage now.
Concern crept into Rhea’s voice. “You sound winded. What’s wrong?”
“I need you back at the grove,” Hannah said, ignoring the question. “Can you come now? I’ve got a situation here.”
“Yeah,” Rhea drawled. “Care to elaborate on that?”
“Nope. Get here as quick as you can. I’ll be in my cottage.” Hannah hung up before Rhea could respond. She didn’t want to create an opening for the woman to dally. They needed to be quick about finding Dominic, which posed complications of its own, but Hannah had an idea of how to track him down.
She pushed through the door of her cottage, and went straight to the bedroom. The bed was still unmade; she hadn’t had the will to make it since the night Dominic left. Sad she knew, but depression was depression, and she was knee deep in it.
Shoving the melancholy aside, Hannah scoured the bed in hopes of finding something she could use. She needed something of his for the incantation she intended to perform. “Bingo!” she announced to the empty room, holding up several of Dominic’s hairs. It’s enough for what I need.
The next half hour was a blur as Hannah rushed around her cottage, collecting the various tools and components for the spell. She’d used this kind of magic a few times before, but never to find a human. She assumed it would work the same for people as it had for the different inanimate objects and plant life she’d searched for in the past. She “hoped” it would, was a better assertion. Magic was a tricky thing that took years to understand, and, from what Miranda had said, centuries to master. Working the ingredients that went into a spell was an art form, while reciting the rights of an incantation could feel like nothing short of performing an eight-hour rock concert. One had to have stamina, as well as talent and knowledge to excel at witchcraft. Determination and bullheadedness didn’t hurt either.
A knock sounded at the front door.
Hannah looked up from her preparations to see Rhea walk in through the open doorway. Faded blue jeans hung low on her athletic hips while the black half-shirt she wore exposed a well-muscled belly of a runner. Her jet hair was pulled back into a long ponytail, and shined like straight silk. Whenever Hannah heard the word Amazon, she always thought of Rhea. The Osage woman was six feet of fire and muscle. Her self-assurance was unquestionable, and quite evident, in the way she carried herself.
Rhea’s dark eyes scanned the room, and then settled on Hannah. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just give me a second,” Hannah replied, returning her focus to the final touches of her spell. She sprinkled Dominic’s hairs into the percolating concoction, then corked it within one of the green, hand-sized bottles she usually used for potion magic. “Ready.”
Rhea raised one of her dark brows. “For what, exactly?”
“I’ll tell you on the way to the dais,” Hannah said, continuing to pack a small satchel with essentials. The spell would be much more powerful if they used the altar to help them with the casting. Magic could be performed pretty much anywhere, but it always helped to have a grand focus to channel the power. Many witches had lost their lives by trying to wield too much mystical force without aid. Hannah wanted to make sure her incantation was at its strongest, and the altar was the best way to insure that, without undue risk to herself or Rhea.
Hannah set a fast pace to the shrine, already regretting how much time had gone by since Dominic had called. If he and his crew were truly in danger, time was of the essence.
Rhea matched her stride easily with those Amazonian legs of hers. “Spill, Hannah. I don’t like being left in the dark.”
“Sorry,” Hannah apologized. “Thanks for being so patient.” At that point, Hannah told her everything, just as she had Miranda. She felt a pang of guilt when she told Rhea about the touch with Dominic. Ever since Alix and Troy had arrived, Hannah and Rhea had both felt the depth of loneliness that otherwise would have remained buried under the business of day-to-day life. They had commiserated with one another, and Hannah had found great comfort in that exchange. Now, if things could be worked out with Dominic, Rhea would find herself to be a solitary island in a vast and barren sea.
“I see.” Rhea frowned. “You mean to find him with a locator spell?”
Hannah nodded. “I do.”
They walked up the densely wooded knoll that led to the dais. Rhea said nothing more, only helped Hannah set up the site for the incantation. Her low, native tongue hummed as she placed candles in a wide circle around the stone and wood altar. Each candle sat on an exposed root from one of the surrounding trees, and Rhea lit them with a word of magic. A map of Oklahoma was spread out on top of the altar, so that the entire state could be seen.
Once everything was in place, Hannah pulled the little green bottle that held her potion from her satchel, and then tugged the corked free. She stepped to the altar, and, with her fingernails, tore away a small piece of the map. While swirling the concoction, she dropped the bit of paper into the bottle. Tiny tendrils of smoke snaked out from the bottle’s mouth into the night sky.
Rhea approached the dais, coming to a stop across from Hannah. She continued to sing softly in her native language, and swayed in tune with the slow rhythm.
Hannah focused on the altar, and the mystical forces gathering around it. Warmth seeped up from the forest floor into her bare feet to travel throughout her entire body. The runes that were chiseled into the heavy stone block glowed, filling the clearing with haunting iridescent light. She held the bottle aloft with both hands, and chanted the first verse of the incantation:
Hidden, unknown where you be,
All will be shown to me.
Without hesitation, Hannah placed the bottle to her lips, and swallowed the contents. Her insides burned as the liquid ran down her throat. When she’d cast the spell, looking for plants or objects, the liquid had been bitter cold to the touch. This was like drinking molten lava. Despite the pain, she had to continue with the incantation or the spell would fail. She recited the last verse:
Reveal to me where you hide,
Magic used to be my guide.
Hannah’s words were raspy and forced, but she knew the spell had worked. Within seconds of finishing the final words of the incantation, the potion bubbled up from her stomach to exit her mouth in the form of bright green mist. Sparkling bits of light danced within the tiny cloud as it drifted down to the dais.
Both Hannah’s and Rhea’s gaze followed the mist as it began to swi
rl and spin like a funnel cloud across the surface of the map. After a few moments of meandering, the mini tornado settled on a spot just southwest of Coven’s Grove. The glittering particles trapped within the golden funnel built up speed to the point that they appeared to become one solid shard of light. Hannah had to look away from the brilliance of it. A gust of warm wind raced past her shielded eyes, and then the clearing went dark. Only the afterglow of the altar remained for them to see by, as the candles had been extinguished.
When Hannah looked at the map, she found a small smoldering hole in the parchment where the funnel had last perched. Her throat still ached from drinking the potion, but she managed to speak in a croaked whisper, “He’s not far from us.”
Rhea nodded as she looked down at the map. “Looks like old man McClery’s land.”
Hannah frowned. What the hell could Dominic be doing at McClery’s place? John McClery had died the middle of last year, and, as far as she knew, nobody lived out there.
“I’ll get the ATVs,” Rhea said.
“There could be more than just Dominic out there,” Hannah replied. “I’ll need the van.”
Rhea pointed to the little scorch mark on the map. “You won’t be able to get out there with the van. We can hook the trailer up to the two-seater.”
Hannah couldn’t argue with the woman’s logic. That area was dense forest, especially since she had started manipulating the flora on Coven’s Grove. Hannah’s project had spilled out into the neighboring properties, which was part of the reason why Miranda had been trying to buy McClery’s land. As of yet, the matriarch’s attempts to persuade John’s children into selling had been unsuccessful.
The trailer wasn’t set up to take passengers, but it was better than nothing. Hannah nodded, and grabbed the map. “Okay, let’s do it.”
Rhea spoke a few words of magic, summoning several globes of light that slowly circled her athletic form. Without further delay, she led the way back to the garage at a sprint, the little orbs remaining near her the whole time. Even with the magical light, the trail was hazardous, and Hannah had to watch her step as she ran close behind Rhea.
Hannah (The Coven's Grove Chronicles #2) Page 8