Halfway Hexed
Page 30
“What happened to Gwen?”
“She betrayed us. She was Maggie’s apprentice. That girl could’ve been the first female president of the association. That’s what Maggie was grooming her for. But Gwen found the brooch and recognized it, and her ridiculous obsession with Bryn Lyons made her take it. Gwen couldn’t keep it on her person or in her things, not while she was traveling with us. Maggie would’ve been drawn to her own magic, the power coating the brooch. But Gwen didn’t want to simply mail it to Bryn. She wanted to present it to him. She didn’t realize Maggie hadn’t bought the brooch, hadn’t found it.
“She’d killed Cassie and trapped her soul inside it to keep Cassie from appearing to her family and telling them who had really murdered her. You see, Margaret lined up a scapegoat and planted clues that led to him. When she killed him, the family was grateful to her for exacting justice. We did such a good job of framing him, no one ever suspected he was innocent.”
I clucked my tongue. “That’s awful!”
He shrugged. “Maggie was a brilliant and talented operative.”
“Did my grandma know what really happened?”
“No.”
“Why did Gwen send me the brooch?”
“Gwen was investigating you. She saw that you didn’t use wards, didn’t seem to know how to safeguard your things. She mailed it to you, knowing she could easily retrieve it later. As she did.”
“But Mrs. Thornton realized she took it?”
“Oh yes. Maggie had very powerful magic wrapped around that brooch, to prevent anyone, especially Cassie’s family, from drawing her spirit out. But your family has such a strong affinity for ghosts, and your magic was too like Maggie’s own. The brooch mistook you for her. The spell, you see, had an opening that Maggie had left so that she could speak to Cassie if she wanted to.”
“Why?”
“Because Cassie was a stunning talent, and Maggie always hated to see a young woman’s potential squandered. She had killed Cassie in an act of self-preservation, and that was a terrible and difficult thing for her to do. Maggie thought she could still immortalize Cassie in the world of magic, by keeping her spells alive. In fact, Maggie has a book of Cassie’s spells. One that she intended to have published after we retired from politics. She wanted Cassie to have a great and enduring legacy.”
“Wow, what a great humanitarian Mrs. Thornton was,” I snapped. “Making Miss Cassandra famous and revered after she killed her. Not to mention planning to destroy Cassandra’s best and most important legacy. Her son.”
“Only the magic matters,” Barrett said wistfully. “That’s what she always said.”
“How could you stand to be around her?” I demanded.
“Easily. She was remarkable. Years ago, the association was crumbling. Witches were being burned and beheaded, being preyed upon by every other preternatural creature. Maggie Thornton changed everything.”
I shook my head. That didn’t justify anything, but I knew I wouldn’t convince him of that. He’d been drinking the Conclave’s crazy Kool-Aid.
“And you just go around killing whoever you want to cover things up? You killed Gwen?”
“Operative Lambert killed her. Under orders.”
“Operative Lambert? Scarface?”
He nodded. “He was here to get you out of the way, so we could deal definitively with Lyons, but you proved harder to contain than expected.”
“He painted Gwen’s walls with antiwitch stuff?”
“Yes, we thought we’d frame the town’s religious extremists. Get some of them jailed and out of the way, but Maggie said the investigation would be too time-consuming. So Operative Lambert went back and got rid of the body and the evidence.”
“How did you expect to get away with it?”
“Do you see anyone arresting us for Gwen’s murder? We did get away with it, my dear. That and so much more over the years.”
I shook my head. Certifiable, the whole group of them. “What do you think will happen to you now?”
“I’ll stand trial, and then I’ll be executed.”
I raised my brows. “You don’t sound scared.”
He shrugged. “Maggie and I were lovers and partners for many decades. I shouldn’t think this world will be at all interesting for me without Margaret. Better to join her on the other side.”
What could I say to that? I got up and went to the walk-in closet.
“What about you? What will you do?” he asked.
“Get dressed. Have breakfast.”
“I meant with your life.”
“I knew what you meant,” I said, closing the closet door with me inside. I put on jeans and a sweater, warm socks and turquoise cowboy boots.
“I hope that ring doesn’t mean that you’ll let him enslave you,” he called. “A witch of your lineage has a responsibility to rise with the cream.”
That ring? I looked at my hands, stared at them. One moment my fingers seemed bare, then a gold ring appeared on my right middle finger. My jaw dropped. Magically hidden.
The bright yellow gold was etched with a moon and stars and three blue-violet sapphires in a row. Orion’s belt.
I pulled off the ring to study it. It was sure pretty. Had Bryn put it on me while I slept? The skin of my finger burned and ached. I looked inside the ring. In fancy old letters, it read, Blood of my blood.
My finger joints stiffened until I couldn’t stand the cramp. I gasped in pain and shoved the ring back on. The pain faded instantly. What the Sam Houston?
I shoved the door open and rushed out of the room, hurrying down the stairs. I burst back into the downstairs guest room, startling Dr. Suri who nearly fell out of his chair.
“Good morning,” he said, getting up. “Excuse me.”
I didn’t pay attention to him leaving. Instead, I grabbed Bryn’s hands and stared at them until I saw it. A white gold band on his left middle finger. The pattern etched into the band was a leafy vine. I dragged the ring off, scraping his middle knuckle in the process. I peered inside. The same antique lettering. Bone of my bone.
Setting in my hand, his ring touched mine, and they both vibrated with power, a soft hum buzzing in my ears.
“Put it back on,” he said, holding up his hand.
There was a fiery red mark on his finger where the ring had been.
“I finished the spell? On the tor when I said the words?”
He nodded, taking the band and pushing it back onto his finger.
“Where did you get the rings?”
“I had them made.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“You couldn’t have known that I’d agree back then! Why would you have had them made before we did the spell?”
He shrugged. “Most of the time, I follow my head. Once in a while, I follow my heart.”
Speaking of hearts, mine thumped in my chest, adrenaline searing my veins. What had I done by finishing that spell?
“What if we don’t end up getting along? What if you marry someone else? Or I do?” I said breathlessly. “This magical bond—it’s forever?”
“For life or longer.”
I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. That sure was a long time. “You might live to regret it,” I said.
He smiled. “No, I won’t.”
He interlaced our fingers, his left palm against my right, the rings touching. Magic and warmth rose up my arm and into my chest. It did feel so right, like everything always did with him.
Plus, I had to finish the spell or let him die. I shuddered at the thought of him being lost forever. He was too important to Duvall, to the world of magic, and to me.
I leaned forward, the curtain of my hair hiding my face and our hands. I kissed his knuckles and whispered, “I won’t regret it either.”
Kimberly Frost, award-winning author of the Southern Witch series, began writing stories in grade school and has not been able to stop since. For news about new releases, free stories, or to contact Kimb
erly, visit her website at www.frostfiction.com.
Berkley titles by Kimberly Frost
WOULD-BE WITCH
BARELY BEWITCHED
HALFWAY HEXED
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39