Mystical Love

by Rachel James

  Brianna began chewing on her lower lip, her eyes darkening with pain.

  “I have to go home, Tommy, and that’s that.”

  He didn’t offer any other comment aloud, but she saw him frown. She looked away, clamping her lips to imprison a sob. The past was the past, and though she needed it to stay dead, she couldn’t sit and wait for word of her mother’s death. She felt ice spreading through her stomach at the thought, and she suddenly burst into tears.

  Alarmed, Tommy sprang to his feet and circled the desk. He threw his arm over her shoulders, comforting her with his warm embrace and sly wit.

  “Here now, blue eyes, forget what I said. If you have to go home, I’ll support you. I’ll even find one of those magical books of yours and conjure up a spell for you to use.” He squeezed her shoulders, and Brianna slipped her arms about his waist and hugged him.

  “You’re the best, Tommy. I knew you’d understand.” She brushed her cheeks against his belt buckle. “If I don’t go, and Mother dies, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “And if they slam the gates in your face?”

  “I’ll lose my soul.”

  “What’s one little soul among many?” Tommy teased, shaking her shoulder.

  Brianna squeezed his waist.

  “You are treading on sacred ground with that statement, Tommy. Every soul counts in the scheme of things.”

  “Even your damaged one?”

  “God, I hope so,” she said, slipping her hands from Tommy’s waist. She leaned back in her chair, swiping her drenched cheeks with a tissue. “All better now,” she said, tossing it under her desk. A long sigh emanated as Tommy re-circled the desk and fell into his chair again. His sly wit re-surfaced at once.

  “I know we’ve bantered about witches and warlocks over the years, but just how good of a witch are you, anyway?”

  Brianna’s head shot up, a mischievous glint entering her eyes.

  “Change the subject, Tommy, or you’ll find out first-hand just how good I am.”

  He held up his hands, making a cross with his fingers.

  “Stay back, you evil, blue-eyed vixen.”

  Brianna laughed at his sarcasm.

  “Crisis averted,” she croaked.

  “And without using black magic against me.” He gave her a toothy grin, dropped his hands, and hopped from his chair. He hauled up his briefcase, rapping it on the edge of her desk before turning.

  “Just say the word, and I’ll fly home with you, Brianna.”

  She studied his serious expression.

  “This is something I have to do alone, Tommy. And,” she pointed a finger at him. “You need to find a buyer for the company ASAP.”

  He nodded, then turned from the desk, and exited the door. Watching him go, Brianna gave a relieved sigh. Thank goodness, Tommy knew when to push, and when to back off. If he had pushed things, she would’ve come unglued, for sure.

  Torn by an influx of conflicting emotions, Brianna began drumming her fingers along the desktop. What had really happened to her mother in the circle? She didn’t know; she only hoped that when she arrived in Green Sapphire, she’d find that the Elders had misread the signs, and things weren’t as bad as her father implied. Her mind replayed Tommy’s words: “And if they slam the gates in your face?” She frowned immediately. If, when she arrived, she was barred from the property, she would work her way south along the back roadway, and enter the compound through the outer property bounds. She was going to determine for herself what happened to her mother, and nothing and no one was going to stop her. No one was going to hurt her mother and get away with it.

  CHAPTER TWO

  PRESENT DAY—DALLAS, TEXAS

  The “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging on the doorknob came loose and flew away as the door slammed open, and Jake Rogers, Devlin’s partner, strode to his desk. A file sailed into Devlin’s line of vision, and he raised his head.

  “Good morning to you, too,” he quipped with a lop-sided grin.

  “Don’t ‘good morning’ me. I’ve been up all night.”

  Devlin leaned back in his chair.

  “It's nice to see another ecological egghead bogged down in mud. My last two days have been spent training field engineers who don't know shit about the earth, or even give a damn about it. I welcome the chance to talk to someone who actually knows what I'm talking about—even if that someone needs a bath and clean shave.”

  Jake plopped into a vacant chair.

  “What can I say? Digging mines turns me on.”

  “Now, you see there, that's what I'm talking about.” Devlin stated. “These young go-getters I'm saddled with are interested in mining the earth for profit, rather than finding cures for radiation sickness, cosmic rays, food chains, and ozone layers.”

  “Profit versus extinction. That’s always been man’s dilemma, and his heartbreak,” Jake responded.

  “Well, I’m here to prove that man can live in harmony with his environment, instead of drilling it all to hell. Even the plankton in the sea deserves that much courtesy from us.”

  Devlin saw the busted smirk.

  “Yee-haw! Let’s dunk the bastards.”

  Devlin tossed his pencil across the desk at Jake.

  “Spare me your good-old-boy personality so early in the morning, huh? Why are you disturbing me when I clearly asked not to be disturbed?”

  Jake caught the pencil, and used it to pound the file he threw on the desk.

  “You backed out of the Sage proposal. Why?”

  “I realized it’s not for us.”

  Jake sported a frown.

  “You axed the deal at the last minute, though. That’s not like you.”

  “You know my personal history, Jake,” Devlin said, turning his attention to the file. He flipped it open, studying the scrawled signatures.

  “Commune living, blah, blah, blah,” Jake touted.

  “It’s a little more interesting than that,” Devlin said, glancing up.

  “Like I said, blah, blah, blah. No bullshit this time. What’s going on?”

  “I thought I could mend some fences by buying Brianna’s company, but I’ve realized I can’t.”

  Devlin heard a brief chuckle.

  “Touché. Now, let me tell you the real reason you won’t broker this deal, old buddy.”

  Devlin flipped the file shut, leaning back in his chair again.

  “I can’t wait to hear this.”

  Jake ignored his sarcasm.

  “You have a ‘thing’ for the beautiful Brianna.”

  Devlin’s chair hit the floor.

  “Where the hell did you come up with that reasoning?”

  “It’s the only plausible explanation. You’re a handsome, heterosexual male with needs, yet you constantly shun the ladies who throw their panties in your direction. Only one reason to do that; you’ve got the love bug bad.”

  Devlin saw a familiar smirk, but before he could comment on it, a loud jangling erupted from the phone on his desk. He pressed the intercom button on the speaker box, glad for the interruption. Jake’s musings were getting close to subjects he had long ago deemed nobody’s business but his own.

  “Devlin here.”

  “Devlin, it's Charles.”

  “Charles?” Devlin paused, running a list of names through his head. Charles in Toledo? Charles in Santa Ana? And then it hit him. “Good lord, Charles, how did you find me?”

  “I’ve kept track of your whereabouts for years,” he replied. “However, I had to call the A.A.P.G. to get your number.”

  “I’m flattered,” Devlin remarked. “It's certainly good to hear your voice after all these years. How are things?”

  “Things are bad. Sienna’s dying.”

  “What?!” Devlin’s chair bumped the desk, and he snatched up the receiver. “Did you say she’s dying?”

  “Yes. She fell ill during a Sacred Circle ritual, and you know better than most what that means. Several members of the congregation, including myself, are showing si
gns of respiratory problems. And we have one casualty in the making—a young teen. We’ve tried to pinpoint the cause, but we’ve failed.”

  Devlin swung his chair around, glancing out the bay window with a frown.

  “Call the paramedics, Charles. Every second you delay seals her fate.”

  “I wish it was that easy, but you know involving outsiders right now isn’t an option—not until we determine the cause.”

  “Does Brianna know?”

  “Just hung up from telling her; said my goodbyes to her, now to you.”

  “Goodbye?” Devlin heard a fractured cough, then a clear voice again.

  “I should’ve fought harder for you and Brianna to stay all those years ago. If things go really bad from here on out, promise me you’ll take care of Brianna. You have our permission to marry her and have lots of babies, by the way.”

  The phone line went dead, and Devlin listened to the dial tone in dismay. Marry Brianna and take care of her? He wished that with every breath he took; however, if there was a love spell for accomplishing that, he hadn’t found it yet. He swung his chair back around, hanging up the receiver and rapping his knuckles on the desk. Sienna Sage in a coma from conducting a Sacred ritual? Not possible. High Priestesses didn’t fall ill during rituals. Not without help, his inner voice nudged.

  Bolting up from his chair, Devlin strode to the washroom on his left, and doused his face. He was feeling the urge to hop a plane and tell the Sisters of Fate to be damned.

  “I can cover the NASA meetings, Dev. We’re turning down the proposal anyway.”

  Devlin shook his head, grabbing a towel.

  “You’ve got to be in Montana Wednesday. If we lose that meeting, we stand to lose two million in change.”

  An annoyed growl emanated.

  “Gee, Dad, I thought we were partners. Since when don’t you trust me to conduct simultaneous business meetings?”

  Devlin wiped his face, and tossed the towel to the sink.

  “Get the hell out of my office and let me read the field training schedules.” He skirted around Jake’s lounging figure, and strode back to his desk. Sinking into his chair, he prepared to return to his reading. A hard rap on the edge of the desk had him looking up in surprise. He watched as Jake tumbled back into his vacated wingback.

  “I know I’ve scoffed at your coven background for years, but I heard enough of that conversation to know that Brianna Sage’s mother is seriously ill. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to deduce that you should call Brianna Sage right now and try to patch things up with her.”

  Devlin gave an exhausted sigh.

  “And say what? Let’s get together and conjure up a healing spell to save your mother? Trust me, if I did that, she’d spit in my face and do everything she could to screw me over.”

  “Wow! That’s a lot of hate, brother. Still, that’s no reason to refuse to call her and try to patch things up. She needs a friend right now, I think.”

  “Mind your own business, Jake.”

  “You are my business, remember? If you’re unhappy, I’m unhappy. That was our agreement when we first formed this company.” He leaned forward, and lifted the phone receiver. “Call her—before she conjures up a part-time lover who isn’t you.” He offered the receiver to Devlin, who scowled as he took it.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking of me by doing this, Jake . . .” He began punching in numbers on the phone, hoping to God the call would go directly to Cloisters’ voice mail.

  “Cloisters, here.”

  “Tommy? Devlin Janus.”

  “Janus? Thought I heard the last of you yesterday.”

  “Bad pennies always turn up,” Devlin joked, “I’d like Brianna’s cell phone number, if you have it handy.”

  “No can do. She’s on her way home to pack and she’s not taking any calls.”

  “She’s going somewhere?”

  “She’s off to Tucson for a couple of days. Family business. Can I have her call your cell when she has a chance?”

  “She’ll be back in a few days, you say?” Devlin asked, evading his question.

  “Or three or four. Her mother’s seriously ill. She has no clear timeline for her return at this point.”

  “I see. Well, give her my cell number when you have a chance. And, Cloisters?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like to buy Sage Industries—if it’s still available. Can you fax the papers over?”

  “Got Brianna’s power of attorney letter in my hot little hands,” he chuckled. “I’m just itching to use the power.”

  The line went dead, and Devlin replaced the receiver. He leaned back, perusing Jake’s gleeful grin.

  “There, your precious ego has been stroked once again. We are now the proud owners of Sage Industries. I hope that makes you happy.”

  “As happy as a clam swimming in marinara sauce.” he replied.

  Devlin waved him away.

  “Get the hell out of my office before I terminate our partnership.”

  “I’m already gone, partner. See you at lunch.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  AIRPORT—TUCSON, ARIZONA

  Following the crowd, Brianna stepped onto the tarmac, her gaze scanning the foothills surrounding the airport. It was good to stretch her legs after eight tedious hours of flying. If only she had the time to curl up in the nearest motel and sleep for a solid ten hours. Her mind had reached overload sometime around noon, and her body was paying the price for it. Sore back, stiff muscles; she had it all.

  Bending, she lifted the handle of her suitcase and struck out for the terminal entrance. At least her cold was better. Her nose was no longer running like a sieve, and her lungs had started producing fresh air again. Of course, yesterday had been a blur; her scheduled meetings rearranged, her suitcase packed and re-packed. And then a sudden snowstorm had developed and delayed her early morning flight to mid-morning. And now, after the long hours of sitting, the sun was lowering in the west, and she was so hungry she could eat a bear. Did she have time for a quick bite before picking up her rental car? It didn’t make a difference, she was going to eat. The egg and cheese sandwich she had eaten for breakfast had dissipated long ago, leaving her lightheaded and woozy.

  “Hello, Brianna.”

  The figure loomed in front of her, and Brianna took a hasty step back. She studied the handsome face, mesmerized by the light green eyes scanning her own face. Her heart tripped in recognition. It couldn’t be. Not after all these years.

  “Dev . . . lin?” she sputtered.

  “In the flesh.”

  He took the suitcase handle from her fingers, and guided her forward with a light prod. It took all of Brianna’s willpower not to shrink from his touch. However, if she balked, the gesture would be noticed. And being noticed at the moment was the last thing she wanted.

  “Are you passing through, Devlin?” she asked, following him under an arrow pointing towards the baggage claim area.

  “No. Your father tracked me down yesterday, offered me a cryptic goodbye, and then hung up the phone.”

  “Me, too.” Brianna felt the sting of tears on her eyelashes, and immediately changed the subject. “Was your flight any better than mine?”

  “Much better. I arrived this morning with only an hour delay.”

  “Have you been waiting for me to fly in?” Brianna asked in surprise. He didn’t respond, merely side-stepped a senior couple who had stopped suddenly in front of them to read the arrival/departure board. Winding around them, he took stock of their surroundings, and then angled left. Spotting a second exit sign, he guided her towards the front of the terminal. As they walked, Brianna realized he wasn’t going to answer her question. It was obvious that he had been waiting for her flight, though she couldn’t fathom how he knew which flight she would be on. Her decision to come had been last minute at best.

  She stole a peek at his profile. The years had been very good to him. His boyish looks had turned into a
mature ruggedness that reeked of working outdoors. She could even smell a hint of balsam in his aftershave. He was as tall as she remembered, and drat it, a lot more handsome. He wore no wedding band, but then lots of married men didn’t these days. Her intuition said he wasn’t married, though; just having hot, steamy sex whenever possible. His body looked remarkably sculpted beneath his shirt and jeans. She was sure once aroused, his body would twist with the hard knot of need, and the resulting sex would be mind-blowing.

  Brianna pulled her gaze from his body to the walkway ahead. It was none of her business whether Devlin had mind-blowing sex. And it was certainly the height of stupidity to be admiring his body and picturing some lucky woman lying beneath him, writhing in ecstasy.

  Her gaze found his profile again. Where had he settled over the years? Out west? Back east? Wherever it was, he had kept true to his upbringing. He belonged to the land and it showed. Passing the last of the ticket counters, she felt a tug on her elbow and turned, content to be guided towards the outside walkway.

  “Your father mentioned a respiratory problem,” Devlin finally advised, “The scene at Green Sapphire must be pretty depressing, and once you arrive, the rumors will spread your mother is beyond help.”

  Brianna shoved her purse higher on her shoulder, side-stepping a toddler headed towards the entrance door at a breakneck speed.

  “I don’t give a damn about what the congregation thinks,” she replied, watching as the boy’s mother scooped him up before he got trampled underfoot. “I’m here to get to the bottom of what happened, and then do what I can to make the Elders rectify it.” Reaching the main terminal, Brianna paused for guidance. “Have you rented a car for the drive home?”

  “Yes. It’s close by. I’ve canceled your rental.” He switched direction, walked a few yards, and then noticed she wasn’t following. He swung back, contemplating her posture. “Look, I get it, we’ve never been friends, or likely to be, but if we are going to help your mother, we have to work the problem out together.”

  “Like last time?”

  He grinned at her.

  “Hopefully, not.”

  Her lips twitched slightly. The serious boy she had known as a child had grown a sense of humor since leaving the coven. And this new Devlin was upsetting her normal balance in the world with his playful charm and winning smile. Why had her father tracked them both down after all these years? He knew their history together. Oil and water—two chemicals that never mixed.