A Witch’s Revenge (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 4)

by Auburn Tempest

  “No argument here.” Nikon takes a step back. “I’m all for avoiding angry dragons.”

  I rub my hand over Patty’s back and stand staring at the queen. “Are you okay to wait alone? I can stay if you want. I think she’ll recognize me as a friend.”

  Patty’s furrowed brow relaxes. “I’m certain she would, lass, but no. We’ll be fine, and there’s still much to do. If I can be of assistance, let me know. Otherwise, ye know when to come and get me.”

  “Yep. The moment we find the witches responsible for what happened, I’ll let you both know. You have my word.”

  Patty lifts my knuckles to his lips and gives me a mischievous wink. “And yer word is as good as gold in my estimation.”

  After dropping Gran and Emmet off in what I like to consider Granda’s Shire, Nikon takes Dora home to Toronto, and Sloan and I go back to his place. I’ve lost track of the passage of time, but Wallace was very clear about checking on my leg at regular intervals.

  I’m not about to complain. The idea of spending a little downtime with Sloan is better than what the doctor ordered.

  “Shotgun on the shower.” My bag flops on the floor of his bedroom with a weighty kerflop. I trudge over to sit at his dining table and unbuckle my boots. “Do you think your dad can look at my leg tomorrow? I’m done like dinner, baby.”

  Sloan unlaces his boots, sets them on the rack by his door, then picks up my bag. “I’ll check it tonight and arrange for him to set aside time in the morning.”

  Awesomesauce. I drop my boots and glare at the door to the loo. “Your bathroom’s so far away.”

  Sloan picks up my boots and chuckles as he sets them neatly beside his own. “Come, a ghra. Let me help you.”

  At first, I think he’s going to poof me to the shower, but he surprises me by scooping me out of the chair and carrying me across his suite.

  “I’m not a damsel you can sweep off her feet.”

  “Never thought it for a second.”

  “You can only carry me because I let you and because I’m too tired to resist.”

  “Understood.”

  When we get into the ensuite, he sits me on the counter, starts the water in the shower, and takes out two puffy towels. “Anything else I can do? Do you need a hand with your clothes, maybe washing your hair?”

  “That’s a tempting offer.”

  “It was meant to be.”

  I chuckle and tilt my mouth up to accept his kiss. As tired as I am—and I’m bone-achingly exhausted—I consider his offer. “No fair. With a kiss like that, my thought processes go all warm and fuzzy.”

  “Then my evil plan is working.”

  I press a hand against the scorch mark on his shirt and smile. “Raincheck. But after I clean up, maybe we could snuggle to sleep? I’m too beat to do much more.”

  “Snuggling to sleep sounds heavenly. Don’t forget to let me see yer leg and wrap it before ye put on yer Pikachu PJs.”

  “Promise.”

  Morning comes too soon, and Wallace is pleased with both the regeneration of the dead skin on my thigh as well as the lack of evil intent trying to possess me. Little does he know about the urge to kill that witch that infected Sloan with her creepy blue beetle and how satisfying it was to peg her to the wall.

  “Now, would ye like to tell me what yer not tellin’ my son?”

  I blink at the man’s knowing smile. “Clever man.”

  He has the same crooked smile as Sloan. I’ve never noticed it before. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen Wallace smile before. “It hardly takes a scholar to figure it out. Ye sent him off on a food errand to have a private minute, didn’t ye?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing, but I don’t want Sloan to worry.” I confide in Wallace about the evil filmy residue I sense and how when I get angry, my eyes burn and flip to the creepy ice blue. “I understand the bond I made with that level of evil is bound to leave a trace, but I thought someone should know.”

  “Has it gotten worse or stronger as time passes between healings?”

  “No. It’s just sorta there and flares under stress.”

  “Well, yer daily life seems to bring more than yer fair share of stress.”

  “True story.”

  “All right. I’m glad ye told me, but let’s not worry about it. There are bound to be aftereffects. We knew that comin’ into yer recovery. Monitor things. As long as it doesn’t get worse, or nothing else comes of it, we’ll take that as good news.”

  “Good news?” Sloan strides in with Manx. “I like the sound of that. So, yer healin’ up well then?”

  “She is.” Wallace offers me a slight nod. “And yer free to go start yer day. What’s on the agenda?”

  Sloan shrugs. “We have an errand to follow up on for the goddess. I expect we’ll be gone most of the day.”

  “Uh-huh, fine.”

  I hop off the exam table and slip on my shoes. Really? Sloan mentions working for the goddess and doesn’t even rank a follow-up question.

  “Try not to come home bleedin’, you two.”

  I snort. “That’s always the plan. It’s when the world doesn’t follow the plan that things go to hell.”

  When no response comes back, I find Wallace’s attention engrossed by something in his medical cabinet.

  Sloan takes my hand and leads me out. “Sorry about that. When things stop being medical, Da tends to lose interest.

  I swing the door open to Gran’s and Granda’s house and cup my mouth. “Hello, the house! Anyone home? Granda? Gran? Brothers o’ mine?”

  Gran comes out of the back room with Emmet hopping along behind her. “Lugh and Dillan went to finish up with the restoration of the parish. Yer brother said to fetch him when yer ready to leave.”

  “Cool, thanks. Emmet, are you ready to roll?”

  Leaning back on his tail, he raises his hands.

  “Of course you’re coming, dude. There’s no way you’re missing out on the second half of this quest. We’re only getting to the good stuff now. And hey, Mother Nature said you’re one hundy percent good, so you might change back at any time.”

  I look over at Sloan and frown. “Okay, weird thought, but when he changes back will he have clothes on or be nakey man? Ohmygawd…is that why his statue was a nakey man? Do you think he was a Wildlife guy?”

  Sloan sneaks a bunch of cookies off the plate in the living room and starts in on his stack. “Clan Cumhaill has the strangest preoccupation with nakedness. Ye realize that, don’t ye?”

  I snort. “Nice try, Mackenzie. When it comes to the whole nakedness thing, the Cumhaill preoccupation falls solidly in Goldilocks territory.”

  “Which means what exactly?”

  “Not too much. Not too little. We’re juuust right.”

  Sloan rolls his eyes. “Says you.”

  I shrug. “Well, I’m not taking any chances with my brother’s junk. I’ll pack you a change of clothes, Em. I got you covered. Ha…see what I did there?”

  Sloan waves a hand in the air as he leaves the room. “Get yerself sorted, and we’ll meet up with Lugh.”

  I leave Sloan and Emmet to do their thing and head into the spare room to grab some clothes for Emmet. His bag is open on the dresser, so I help myself.

  “Fiona, dear.” Gran joins me. “Can I have a quick word?”

  “Sure, Gran. What’s up?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure if I should say anything at all, but since we love ye both so much, yer granda and I feel it best to err on the side of caution.”

  I roll a pair of boxers inside a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and grab some socks. “Sorry. I’m not following. What side of caution?”

  “I know ye grew up without a mam, luv, and forgive me if I’m oversteppin’, but it’s plain that yer spendin’ a great deal of time with Sloan. While I love him like he’s my own, I know he’s had a few indiscretions with the ladies.”

  Oh, lordy. It dawns on me too late what this is.

  I look at the door, but there’s no
way to escape.

  Gran is giving me the talk. “Oh, Gran... I, uh...” My cheeks flush hot, and I swipe my hair away from my face. “Enough said. We’re good. Sloan and I... Well, you don’t need to worry. We’re good.”

  “Ye know what they say, dear. Safeguard yer hearts and safeguard yer parts.”

  Oh, gawd. Yep, this is happening. I force a smile. “Understood. We’re not rushing into anything, but if and when Sloan and I get there, we’ll be careful.”

  “When we get where?” Sloan strides in, loose-limbed, and smiling. “What are my two favorite ladies talkin’ about?”

  “Your penis, actually.”

  Sloan chokes and spits cookie across the rug.

  Could it get any more awkward? “Gran is reminding us to glove the love.”

  Sloan’s footing falters, and I swear it’s one of those cartoon moments when the character looks back at the way they came and zoom, speeds off in the opposite direction.

  I raise a pointed finger. “Don’t you dare poof out on me. If I’m enduring this, so are you.”

  Sloan swallows and takes an extremely long time to set down his cookies on the dresser. When he turns back, he lifts his chin and smiles. “All right, Lara. Ye’ve never had any interest in my affairs before, so I assume it’s Fi yer worried about.”

  “Not just her, son, but I worry. Raised in the house with six men, she might need a woman’s guidance.”

  Emmet-roo arrives, and even in his ’roo form, I can tell he’s busting a gut. Yeah, yuck it up, asshole.

  I rub the fire burning in my cheeks, but there’s no hiding my reaction. “I’m fine, Gran. Really. I got the whole female lowdown from Auntie Shannon when I was twelve, and Da is frank with all of us about what it means to be an adult. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Even so.” She reaches into the pocket of her apron. “Granda and I thought it best to pick ye up somethin’ while yer here…ye know, to tuck in yer bag. Things sweep ye up more often than not, and we want ye to be prepared.”

  I stare at the cardboard box, and I can’t feel my limbs.

  My grandparents bought me condoms.

  “Now, it’s been a few decades since yer Granda and I bought things like this, but Erin at the counter says these are especially good and the girl in the queue in front of me agreed. She likes the ribbed ones herself.”

  Oh. My. Gawd. I grab the box and shove them in the bag with Emmet’s clothes. “Thanks, Gran. Message received. Before we get spunky, we’ll cover his monkey.”

  Sloan makes a pitiful noise, which I expect is the sound a man makes as his testicles climb up inside to hide forever.

  I take Sloan’s hand and grab Emmet’s ear. The stupid kangaroo is doubled over, shaking in racking fits of what I can only guess is laughter. “Love you, Gran. Thanks. Bye.”

  I send a pleading gaze at Sloan and thank the goddess, he portals us out of hell.

  “What the fuck just happened?” Sloan snaps the moment we materialize in the cellar of the parish church of Ardfelt Cathedral. The place looks like it’s been completely restored to its condition of two days ago except the shrine wall is gone, and the shelves of the shrine are empty of treasure. “Since when do Lugh and Lara feel the need to pep talk my cock?”

  “How do I know? I’ve never had grandparents before, and they’ve been your pseudo-family longer than mine.”

  “In my house, we don’t talk about such things. Sweet mercies, that was mortifying.”

  “Ye think?”

  Emmet flops onto the cellar floor and slaps his tail on the ground. “Shut up, Emmet. You are soooo not helping.”

  “Not helping with what?” Dillan says.

  “Nothing!” Sloan and I shout at the same time.

  Dillan throws up his hands and takes a step back. “Message received. Sorry I asked.”

  I rub my hand over my face and try to recover some vestige of calm. Today started so well too. “Sorry, D. Trust me, once Captain Jack over there recovers from his trip to the Outback, you’ll hear all about it. I’m sure everyone will. For now, I’d rather stick my head in the sand and pretend the past ten minutes never happened.”

  “Me too.” Sloan strides into the empty shrine. “Wow, ye got a lot done. Ye’ve been busy. Where’s Lugh?”

  The idea of facing my grandfather right now makes me want to hyperventilate. “Not that we need to see him. In fact, we have our mission to worry about. I’m going to text him that we’re off.”

  “Great idea.” Sloan points at my phone as if that will hurry things up. “Tell him we’ll check in once we get things squared away with the goddess. It could take days.”

  “Hopefully, weeks.”

  Dillan snorts. “Are the two of you on something? You’re talking a million miles an hour and acting weird.”

  “Less talky, more do-y, Dillan. Now, shut your yap trap and put your hand in.” I grab the flailing foot of an extremely annoying kangaroo and reach out for Sloan. When he has hold of Dillan, he poofs us out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The first stop on the goddess’s task of vital importance is for the four of us to go to Blarney Castle, a medieval stronghold in Blarney, near Cork. To track down the witches involved in siphoning from the lake of fae origin, we first have to find out who the players are and where they’ve taken the casks of prana they made away with before we got there to stop them.

  We know Moira is involved. She’s either running the show or one of the key players running the show, but beyond her, we don’t know anyone else.

  We also know that Moira hasn’t been back to her rowhouse in Dublin since our battle to rescue Sloan, so trying to catch her there or through that place is futile.

  Since Sloan is by far the most knowledgeable in matters of sects and witches and the like, we let him take the lead on this.

  “So, we’re going to talk to a witch about how to catch the witches involved?”

  In the distance, a gray stone castle stands against the horizon. Sloan points across the grounds of the grassy estate to a wooden bridge crossing a small stream. “We’ll speak to a white witch I know, Sarah, and ask her what she knows about who’s dabbling in more harmful forms of magic, yes.”

  Dillan and Sloan are taller than me so I have to jog to keep up with their long strides. I’m not sure if Emmet is hurrying or not. It’s hard to tell with him springing and sproinging along beside us.

  “Your friend Sarah. How well do you know her? Anything I need to know ahead of time so I’m not blindsided?”

  Sloan casts me a sideways glare. “Why would you ask?”

  “Because you portaled us straight here, so I’m assuming you have some familiarity.”

  Dillan chuckles. “Is it true what they say, Irish? Once you go witch, you never switch?”

  Sloan scowls at both of us. “Sarah’s a volunteer tourism guide here. I don’t know her biblically. I know her through my visits as a druid. Blarney Castle is a historic site for witches and druids alike. As well as the castle, there’s also the Druid Circle, the Witch’s Kitchen, the Wishing Steps, the Badger’s Cave, the Battlements, and I assume ye’ve heard of the Blarney Stone?”

  I study his expression and frown. “I can’t tell if you’re shitting me right now or if that’s a genuine question.”

  He casts a sideways glance. “I take that as a yes.”

  “You do know we’re Irish too, right?”

  “It may have come to my attention once or twice. My point is, this site is a magical place for more than witches. There are history and lore here.”

  “Which is why you like it.” I look at Dillan and shrug. “He has a thing for crumbling stone and long backstories.”

  “I find history interesting, yes.”

  “I know you do. I’m just razzing you. Back to the part about this being the home of the Blarney Stone. That’s cool. I want to kiss it.”

  “Me too,” Dillan says.

  “Emmet does too. Don’t you?”

  Dillan looks over at our
goofball brother, and the kangaroo thumps the ground a few times. “Are you even trying to get back to your human form, or are you in there having fun? Try another animal or something. If you’re all hopped up on prana power, maybe there’s more you can do besides carrying your cellphone in your pouch.”

  I snort. “No. Seriously? You put his cell in his pouch?”

  “I would have, but male kangaroos don’t have a pouch.”

  I sigh. “That’s so sad. I was already coming up with so many cool things we could do with his pouch.”

  Dillan shrugs. “Maybe he’ll be an elephant next, and we can ride him. Or a hyena.”

  I nod. “A hyena for sure. He’s always laughing.”

  “Right? He’d be a great hyena.”

  Sloan gestures to the right and reaches for the gate of a garden.

  I read the sign and hesitate. “The Poison Garden. Not real poisons though, right?”

  He holds the gate open for me. “Yes, Fi. Real poisons. Wolfsbane, mandrake, ricin, opium, and other medicinal plants, even cannabis.”

  I glance at the withered plants. Maybe in the summer they’re full and green, but now they’re wilty. “At least they labeled them. I hope no bunnies get in here.”

  “Bunnies on edibles might be funny.”

  I giggle. “It would be. Remember how funny it was when we had to babysit Kevin’s big black cat after the vet, and it was all wonky and banging off the walls?”

  “Loki. Yeah, that was hella funny.”

  Sloan leads us to the back of the Poison Garden and points out a bench hidden under the curtained drape of long, hanging vines. As we slip inside the shelter of the tree, he checks his watch. “We’re early. She’ll be along shortly.”

  “Okay, you guys wait and do the witch meeting thing,” Dillan says. “Emmet and I are going to go find the Blarney Stone. We won’t go far. Send Bruin if you need us back.”

  “Have fun, kids.” I wave my brothers away and wander around the interior of our tree enclosure. “So, Sarah, eh? How’d you contact her? If she’s a volunteer you met, I’m surprised you had her number.”