by Laken Cane
“It certainly is,” Basilia agreed. “At least until you’ve been here for decades. Then it becomes a little too peaceful.”
“Here, Mama.” Abby handed her mother a pouch of candy. “Eat this. I have extra in the supply bag.”
“Oh my. That will do me for a good while, sweetheart.” She ate a piece of the chocolate, then another.
Becky frowned at Abby over Basilia’s head, a question in her eyes.
“Later,” Abby mouthed.
Then Jewel stepped into their path.
“Oh,” Basilia exclaimed. “Child, you scared me.”
But Jewel had eyes only for Becky.
“Jewel,” Abby said, “this is our friend Becky.”
“You’re not to hurt her.” Basilia took a step away from their visitor, and Abby understood immediately it was because she didn’t want the little demon becoming jealous. Becky would take some getting used to.
Becky stood quietly, her stare never wavering from Jewel’s.
“She’s hiding from me,” Jewel said.
“Stay out of her head,” Abby told her. “You know you’re not supposed to do that.”
“She’s a demon,” Becky murmured. “You’re living with a demon.”
Basilia nodded. “She’s Henry’s child.”
Becky looked at her, stunned. “This is Acadia Desrochers daughter?”
Jewel smiled through the thick strands of her black hair, her red eyes glowing. “You’re afraid.” Then she frowned. “But not for yourself.”
Abby strode to the girl. “Listen to me, Jewel. She’s off limits. If you hurt her, you hurt me and Mother, and the repercussions will be harsh.”
Jewel looked at her, and for a brief second, Abby thought she saw a flare of pain in the little demon’s eyes. “All right.”
Abby softened. “I brought you a present, too.”
Jewel looked at the bag, Becky seemingly forgotten. “Give it to me.”
“Not it,” Abby said.
“What does that mean?”
Abby took her arm. “Take Becky to the house, Mother. Jewel and I will be there soon.”
After Basilia and Becky had continued on down the path, Abby smiled at Jewel. “Not it. Them.”
Jewel still didn’t understand. “Them what?”
“Well, let’s see.” Abby reached into the bag and pulled out a blonde fashion doll, but jerked it away when Jewel tried to grab it.
“Please,” Jewel remembered to say, despite her overwhelming excitement. She opened and closed her hands. “Pleaseandthankyouverymuch.” She grinned at Abby.
Abby smiled. “You’re welcome, Jewel.”
“Ah,” Jewel muttered, clutching her doll.
Abby stopped the girl when she would have wandered off. “That’s not all.”
Jewel turned back. “You brought something else?”
Abby reached into her bag and pulled out another doll—larger, with bright, fuzzy red hair. “I did.”
Jewel’s mouth fell open. She forgot her manners in her eagerness, but Abby let it slide. She gave the child the second doll.
“Jewel.”
Jewel forced herself to look up from her dolls. “What?”
Abby pulled yet a third doll from the bag, her smile almost as wide as Jewel’s.
“Oh,” Jewel breathed. “Ohhhhh.”
Abby had a stockpile of the plastic dolls in a chest in her bedroom. When she’d known Becky would be going with her into the pocket, she’d slipped three of them into the bag. The longed for presents would go a long way in keeping Jewel happy and occupied.
And Becky safe.
She left Jewel to her dolls and walked on to Basilia’s house, supply bag in hand. When she glanced back, Jewel was trailing her, dolls held to her chest, her eyes wide in wonderment.
It took so little to please the child, really.
She opened the door to Basilia’s cottage and walked in. Becky and Basilia were in the living room, both on the little couch, drinking tea, talking, and laughing.
“Do you need help with the supplies?” Becky called as Abby went on toward the kitchen.
“Not at all. You and Mother catch up.”
Once everything was in its proper place—most likely her mother would rearrange everything once Abby had left—she joined the others in the living room.
Jewel sat in the corner, playing quietly with her dolls, drawing occasional puzzled and curious glances from Becky.
Abby sat down. “What are we talking about?”
“Dear,” her mother answered, “Becky has asked if I’d mind a permanent guest in the pocket!”
Abby was torn between joy and disbelief. She didn’t want Becky getting her mother’s hopes up for nothing. “Really, Beck?”
Becky’s face was calm. “Maybe, Abby. It’s quiet in here. Peaceful.” She hooked her hair behind her ear and shook her head. “I mean, quiet. I don’t…there’s no anxiety. I can’t hear anyone.” She grasped Basilia’s hand. “I’m free for the first time in my life.”
Abby frowned. “What about your boyfriend? What about your walls?”
“Abby,” Basilia said, sharply. “That’s not nice. You want company for me. I would love to have her here.”
“She doesn’t trust you,” Jewel told Becky. “She’s afraid to leave you here unattended.”
“Jewel,” Abby cried. “That’s not true.” She had her walls up. Jewel wasn’t in her head. But Jewel knew her.
And the girl was smart.
“Abby,” Becky said, crushed.
“Of course Abby trusts you. Don’t you, Abigail?”
“Maybe,” Abby said, “I don’t trust Jewel with Becky.”
“I want to be here,” Becky said. “I had no idea how this place would affect me. I need to be here, Abby.”
Shit.
“Jewel,” Becky said. “Is it okay if I stay here with you and Basilia?”
“All right,” Jewel answered. She petted one of the dolls, then gently kissed its plastic face. “Of course.”
And Abby had never felt more alone.
“You still have us,” Jewel murmured. “You’ll always have us, Abby.”
Surprised, Abby stared at the strange girl.
“Yes,” Basilia exclaimed, pleased. “That’s right. She will always have us.”
Jewel looked up, a half smile on her face. When she caught Abby looking at her, she glanced quickly away and stared at her dolls.
Abby stood, then walked unsteadily across the floor to kneel beside her. After a long moment, she took the girl’s hand.
They sat like that, sister with sister, holding hands, neither of them saying a word.
For the first time, Abby acknowledged an undeniable truth. It didn’t matter from whose wicked loins the girl had sprung, Jewel was blameless. No matter that she was a painful reminder of betrayal and death and despair, she was innocent of her mother and father’s actions.
And Abby loved her.
She hadn’t been aware that she loved the child, and she hadn’t been aware, until that very moment, that some part of her held Eli responsible for his grandfather’s wickedness.
As she and Jewel sat there, communicating without saying a word, Basilia walked from the room. “Come along, Becky. Let’s create some comfort for everyone.”
Minutes later, Abby smelled cookies baking.
“Chocolate chip?” she asked Jewel.
Jewel shook her head. “Peanut butter.”
“Could be oatmeal raisin.”
“I hope not.”
They smiled at each other.
Abby squeezed Jewel’s thin fingers. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a terrible big sister.”
Jewel shrugged and said nothing, but there was no mistaking the sharp gleam of loneliness in her eyes.
“Poor child,” Abby said. “I’ll be better from now on.”
“I would like a big box of dolls.”
Abby grinned and patted the girl’s hand, then stood. “Mother would be angry.”
Abby frowned. “What do you mean?”
Jewel shot a glance in the general direction of the kitchen. “Shhh. Come here, sister.”
Abby leaned over and put her ear close to Jewel’s mouth. She didn’t want to. Her heart was suddenly and for no apparent reason beating painfully slow and hard, and dread filled her stomach. “What is it, Jewel?”
“You’ve been bespelled.”
Abby drew back a tiny bit and turned her head to look into Jewel’s red eyes. “What type of spell?” She could barely breathe.
“A love spell. If you kiss the filthy wolf, you will transfer it to him and he will think he loves you. Did you kiss him, Abby?”
Her stomach tossed so violently she was sure she was going to throw up all over the little demon. “Who did that to me, Jewel?”
But she knew. Of course she knew.
“The tricky turkey did.” And Jewel grinned.
“Shit,” Abby whispered. “Mother.”
Her mother had made her a carrier of a love spell. She really had.
Her mother had taken the wolf’s hair after Jewel plucked it from Abby during breakfast.
And her mother had lured Abby into the pocket, given her a glass of bespelled water, and hit Abby with the most powerful love spell she could manage.
Chapter Eighteen
Basilia, cheeks flushed from the heat of the oven, glanced up when Abby entered the kitchen. “Pour yourself some iced tea, sweetheart, while the cookies are cooling.”
Becky smiled, then took a drink of her own tea.
When Abby remained silent, her mother put the bowl in a sink of sudsy water to soak and turned to peer at her. “Uh oh.”
Abby nodded. “Jewel told me what you did.”
“Oh my. She told you about the rabbit?”
“What?”
“The sores?”
“No…”
“The sex video?”
“Mother!” Abby massaged her temples. “You…” She almost couldn’t bear to say the words. “The spell. You made me a carrier.”
Basilia gaped. “Oh dear.”
“Yes.”
“What?” Becky asked. “What spell?”
“My mother,” Abby answered, “has planted a love spell in me. If I kiss the alpha, he will fall in love with me. Fake love.”
Her mother put a hand to her chest. “Let’s keep family business in the family, Abby.”
“Excuse me,” Becky murmured. She put her teacup down and hurried from the kitchen.
“Abby,” Basilia exclaimed. “Let’s talk about this.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want you to clear the spell.”
“You need someone, sweetheart. Why shouldn’t we use the tools at our disposal? The alpha will always protect you if you allow it.”
Abby found it difficult to look at her mother. “Clear it.”
“Abigail, just think about this. It is not at all hurtful to the wolf. You will be a perfect companion. He won’t find anyone better. Essentially, we’d be doing him a favor!”
“No.”
“But I—”
“Mother,” Abby cried. “It would be wrong. Why have you changed?”
In exactly the same way a protection spell would have been wrong.
Basilia stood unmoving, a hand to her mouth, her eyes overflowing. “I fear for you. I worry about you. I cannot bear that you’re unhappy.”
Abby sighed. “I’m not unhappy, Mama. I want you to understand that. And the wand you gave me is incredible. You did that for me. There’s my protection.” She walked to Basilia. “Being deceitful and unfair…that’s not you. So stop it, Mother. Please.”
Basilia wiped her eyes. “As you wish.”
Abby walked to the doorway. “You will clear it?”
Basilia nodded. “I will clear it.” She held out a hand. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I thought…” She took a deep breath. “I thought I was being helpful. I want so much for you to be happy. Please forgive me for being an old fool.”
Abby managed a smile. “You’re forgiven.”
“You’re beautiful.” Basilia rushed to her and pulled her into her arms. “So beautiful.”
Abby relented beneath the force of her mother’s pain. “I’ll be fine, Mama.”
Basilia stepped back and scrubbed at her eyes. “Yes, you certainly will be. Your wolf—”
“Mama,” Abby’s voice was gentle, but stern. “No more.”
“You didn’t already…” Basilia hesitated, then stumbled on. “You didn’t already kiss him?”
“I didn’t.”
Basilia sniffed. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Abby leaned forward to press her forehead against her mother’s. “I’m just glad I didn’t kiss him.”
“I’m sorry,” Basilia whispered, again.
“I know. Just fix it. How long will it take?”
Basilia hurried to her pantry. “I’ll cook a reversal and will dispense it into the air. All you have to do is show up and breathe it in.” She tried, and failed, to smile. “It will be ready by tomorrow afternoon.”
“All right. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
“You should maybe stay away from him for a little while.” Basilia couldn’t meet her stare. “Just until I reverse the spell.”
Abby sighed.
Her mother stopped her as she turned to leave. “Can Becky spend the night? This will give her a chance to try out the pocket before she actually moves in.”
“I don’t know what to do, Mother.”
“She’s Becky, dear. Becky.”
“I’m aware of who she is.”
“You trusted her enough to bring her here. You can trust her enough to let her stay.”
“But I am here with her.”
“Sweetheart,” Basilia said, dryly. “You’ll be leaving her here with a witch and a demon. Perhaps you should be afraid for her.”
An hour later, when Abby left the pocket and entered her spell room, Becky Bates wasn’t at her side.
“I hope you’re right, Mother,” she muttered as she hung the wand key.
She didn’t feel right about returning without Becky, but the girl hadn’t wanted to leave.
She only hoped when she went back the next day to accept the love spell reversal, Becky would still be alive.
It was time for her to let go. To allow someone else to help her. And most of all, to realize that she couldn’t control everything.
The dogs were howling.
She stiffened and strode toward the living room, hoping what she thought were distant sounds of her dogs in distress were only her imagination.
But the closer she got to the living room, the louder the sounds drifting through the shattered window.
And finally, she felt her familiars’ excitement as well as heard it. The pocket had that effect on her—it closed her off from the dogs, from the outside world, and once she reentered her home it took her senses a while to acclimatize.
“Sadie,” she yelled, and threw open the front door. She rushed out, obedient wand in hand, and then stood stock still, stunned.
Waifwater was on fire.
The distant sky was gray and heavy with billowing smoke, and even though she was miles away from town, she could have sworn she heard screams.
“Elmer, Sadie,” she screamed. “To me!”
Wherever they were, they would heed her call.
She jerked her cell from her pocket and called the alpha, fear squeezing her heart in an icy vice. “Please be okay.”
Her call went to voicemail.
She sprinted for the broom closet, and it seemed to take an hour to finally fumble the lock open once she reached it.
“Sage,” she bellowed.
The broomstick, all the way at the back of the shed, burst free from her clips. She was mean, strong, and so malevolent that Abby rarely used her.
But it was time.
Waifwater was on fire and s
he had no idea where the alpha was.
She needed a broomstick that could kick ass as well as fly.
Sage had been born during the long winter of ’04, when Abby and the animals had barricaded themselves inside the house during a vicious ice storm that took the power, the water, and Abby’s clients.
The week before the ice storm, three feet of snow had been dumped in Waifwater, making One Hex Hollow impassable. So for nearly a month, Abby had sat in her house by the fireplace with the dogs and cats for company, and she had built Sage.
She’d carved ‘Sage. Meanest broom this side of the Appalachians,’ on the broomstick, and it was the truth.
Sage sparked and fumed and trembled, her eagerness almost too much for her. The brooms got out so seldom—but none of them so seldom as Sage.
The hounds finally appeared, their eyes rolling wildly, teeth snapping at the air, front paws hitting the ground in a rough dance that meant only one thing.
Trouble was coming—and they were terrified.
Blood decorated Sadie’s shoulder, and Abby bent over to investigate. “Who has hurt you, Sadie?”
Elmer howled.
“You, too, my love?” Abby ran her hands over his body, flinching when she touched a six inch gash on his front leg.
He whimpered, then licked her face.
“Wolves,” she muttered. “Wolves attacked my babies.”
And she had no time to doctor them. Not then.
“Stay here,” she told them. “Mind the hollow. I’ll be back soon.”
They didn’t argue.
She attached to Sage and the broom hurtled though the air, straight toward the burning Waifwater.
And all Abby could think about was the alpha.
Something was wrong.
She felt it as fiercely as she felt Sage beneath her.
Eli needed her.
Chapter Nineteen
Becky had been right.
Chaos had descended upon Waifwater.
It had come on swift wings, bearing death and pain and annihilation for those it sought.
Bad luck.
All because of a discharged talisman.
The townspeople were hiding, as much as they could hide, inside their homes. Wolf packs and bands of shifters roamed the streets, fighting, looting, destroying.
And terrifying the humans, some of whom ran out onto the porches or leaned out their second floor windows to shoot down any foreign person running through the streets.