Descended from Shadows: Book of Sindal Book One

by D. G. Swank

  Bran looked so fed up with her he wanted to either shake her or punch a tree. She gracefully glided toward him. “Markus didn’t start out like this. His family was from the Powwow tradition, and each generation grew weaker and weaker without their potion making.” She gave him a rueful smile. “But trust me on this, most families haven’t given up the old ways. They merely hide it well. Still, the secrecy has weakened their power and Markus was frustrated, especially since he came from a respected family. He felt he’d lost everything.”

  “But that’s not entirely true,” I interrupted. “Didn’t his grandfather murder a mage for his spell book?” Then it hit me that Markus was repeating history, only this spell book was deadly.

  “One man from a long, long line,” Gwen protested. “Markus’s family legacy was dying.” She flung her hand toward me. “I can feel your magic, and it’s strong. Stronger than most. What would you do if the Valerian Council tried to take your magical power away? What would you do to preserve it?”

  Nausea roiled in my stomach. Hadn’t I been faced with something similar when my sisters and I had fought to guard the book six years ago? What lengths were we willing to go to now?

  “What in the gods names did you hope to accomplish?” Henry demanded.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “I hoped to enlighten the Valeria community that potions and spellwork have their place in our world. That stifling a witch or mage’s talents is just as harmful as the dark magic they can use their craft for.” She gave Brandon a look of challenge. “I’d go so far as to suggest that outlawing nonelementary potion making and spells only drives the practice underground and makes it less traceable. The work’s still going on. It’s just happening in secret.”

  “And Markus’s purpose?” I asked.

  “It started out the same as mine,” she said ruefully. “Then he made some new friends a few months ago, and he began to change. He grew more intense. Moodier.”

  “Darker,” I suggested.

  She nodded. “I realize now that was when he must have joined the Dark Set.”

  “Did you sell your potions?” Brandon asked.

  She shook her head. “My scent is too distinguishable. A skilled magic tracker could find me. That’s why I have no idea how it ended up at the scene of a murder. I swear it!”

  “You said you worked potions together,” Brandon said. “Could Markus have used potions you’d made?”

  She hesitated. “I know he’s capable of committing murder now—but not back then.” Her eyes lit up with recognition. “I do remember Markus saying he’d shown their potential to another mage. He said he demonstrated how to use them only once, but I wonder if he sold them. Now that I look back, he started to have more cash about four months ago.”

  “Do you know if Markus had any contact with a witch named Celeste Whelan?” I asked, earning a very dark look from Brandon.

  She gave me a pensive look. “The Whelan sisters guard the Book of Sindal.”

  I gasped in shock.

  A slight grin played on her lips. “The secret’s not as well kept as you might think.” She tilted her head. “You’re her sister, aren’t you? You’re Phoebe.”

  Brandon shot in front of me, stopping directly in front of Gwen. “How do you know these things?”

  “So she is a Whelan sister. It was only a guess.” She sounded pleased with herself.

  “Who knows they guard the book?” Brandon demanded.

  She shrugged. “Markus knew, and yes, he’d been in communication with Celeste. She struggled with her magic, and he offered the use of our potions to help her.”

  I moved around Brandon and asked, “Do you know what kind of magic she possesses?”

  She shook her head. “Markus refused to tell me.” She turned introspective. “Which should have been my first clue he was using me. But at the time I believed he was trying to help her and she’d sworn him to secrecy.”

  “Markus and the Dark Set are behind this,” Henry said, moving closer to us. “Gwen was fooled into helping, but the Dark Set has been secretly laying the groundwork for a revolution for years now. They’re the reason I left Pittsburgh. Trouble’s coming.”

  Trouble was already here.

  Brandon frowned, then said, “Register your location with the local Protective Force office, and if you leave the area, notify us about your new location. We need to know your whereabouts in case we have to bring you in for further questioning.”

  “Or detain us,” Henry grumbled.

  “The truth of your guilt or innocence will come out,” Brandon said. “If you try running, I will be able to track you down.”

  “Then why have us register?” Henry protested.

  Brandon flashed a humorless smile. “To save me time.” With that, he turned around and headed for the car.

  I started to leave, but Gwen grabbed my arm and whispered, “This man, Brandon Cassidy. Don’t trust him.” She shot a dark look at his back. “Maybe he’s helping you with this search for the book. For your sister,” she added softly. “But his roots draw him to those who would harm you.”

  “What?” I asked, my heart sinking. But then I reminded myself that she might still be helping Markus, despite her protests to the contrary. What better way than to cause division in the people investigating him?

  “Please believe me,” she said, her eyes searching mine. “Druids…we are connected to the Earth, to the body, to the blood pumping in and out of the hearts of every living thing. This Brandon Cassidy is one step removed from your family’s doom.”

  “Phoebe.” Brandon’s voice was full of anger. At me? At Gwen? He was too far away to have heard her. Had either of our auras given off a hint of distrust?

  I left her and got into the car, still telling myself that Gwen was wrong. That she was pitting us against each other, yet her words kept tumbling through my head.

  Was Brandon one step removed from my family’s doom?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Our car ride was silent until we reached the highway.

  “What do you plan to do next?” I asked. “Go back to the hotel and try to find Markus Bieler?”

  “He’s not there, Phoebe. He covered his trail with Gwen’s. I can’t find any trace of him.”

  Was he telling me that to throw me off? Or maybe my worry that Brandon would sell out Celeste was influencing my willingness to believe Gwen.

  “So you plan to give up?” I asked.

  “What part of that insinuated that I was giving up?” he demanded.

  “How about the part where you didn’t volunteer what you planned to do next?” I said in a snotty tone.

  “Dammit, Phoebe! I am not the enemy here! How can you believe a Druid witch over me?”

  I stared at him in shock. There was no way he’d heard her. I was sure of it. Which meant…

  “Wait until we get back to the hotel,” said Bran gruffly, shooting a glance at me. “We’ll discuss it there.”

  It was dark by the time we pulled in front of the hotel. Brandon handed the keys to the valet, and we headed to the elevator in silence. He reached for me when the doors closed, but I backed away, keeping a suspicious gaze on him. I let him get out first, then followed him to our room, wondering if being alone with him was really a good idea.

  He turned back to face me with so much pain in his eyes that I knew.

  I knew.

  Brandon Cassidy was also a mind reader.

  His face crumpled. “Just come inside and let me explain everything.”

  I took a step back in horror, my mind replaying our every interaction over the past few days. Angry tears flooded my eyes. “You knew everything. No wonder you wanted me to come. I thought you wanted me to help you.” I released a bitter laugh, then ran a hand over my head. Gods, I’d been so stupid.

  He looked devastated. “You’re not stupid, Phoebe. And I wanted to tell you.” The sound of an opening door down the hall caught our attention. “Please come in and we’ll discuss it in there.”


  “There’s nothing to discuss,” I whisper-hissed as I moved closer, stabbing my finger into his chest. “You used me. You lied to me. You’ve been reading my mind since the moment you laid eyes on me in the Small Council.” Horror washed through me. “Oh my gods. Since high school. You knew I had a crush on you!”

  Was it possible to die from mortification?

  His eyes pleaded with me. “Don’t be upset. Please. I had a crush on you too.”

  “Only I never knew,” I said. “And you knew everything.”

  He shook his head. “No. That’s not how it works for me. Can we go inside? Please?”

  “No.”

  He sucked in a breath, then said, “Phoebe, my whole life, it was just a whisper of a talent. Nothing, really. I’d pick up a word here or a feeling there. Sometimes, when someone had a super strong emotion like terror or despair or deep, deep love, it would come through stronger. But never anything that would make me an automatic CIA recruit or anything. But then, you.” His eyes bored into mine, deep and imploring, and the intensity made me want to distance myself even more. “From the first moment I saw you in the hallway of that stupid high school, I heard you. So clearly. So plainly. Your thoughts and feelings were so pure… I fell for you hard.”

  “Fell for me? You never once insinuated any such thing.” I shook my head. “That’s how you knew I was a witch? Not that stupid story you told me about Celeste glamouring my hair? Another lie.”

  His face flushed. “No. At first, I thought maybe you were just a nonmagical whose wavelength I was tuned in to, or something. The glamour only confirmed it.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Go on.”

  He hesitated.

  “I already know you can read my mind. You owe me what’s on yours.”

  Nodding, he said softly, “Then I heard you thinking about fortification spells, your sisters, worrying about the Book of Sindal. From such a young age, you were so dedicated, so filled with love for your family, so unabashedly accepting of being a witch…you were part of the reason I joined the Protective Force. Partly because of my brother, but also to protect people like you.”

  “Bullshit,” I spat out. “You never had anything to do with me after we graduated. You never once attempted to contact me.”

  “I was scared to get too close to you,” he said. “I’d have had to confess I could read your mind, and I could only imagine your reaction. Especially after high school. But I did everything I possibly could to get a spot on the force, a seat on the Council.”

  “To spy on me?”

  “No!” he barked, his voice echoing down the hall. He dropped his voice. “Can we go into the room? Please.”

  “Feel free to go inside,” I said, “but I won’t be staying in there with you.” I lifted my chin. “How far away do you have to be to not hear what I’m thinking?”

  His face hardened. “If you think I’m leaving you alone…”

  “Fuck you, Brandon Cassidy. Gwen was right. You’re using me to get to my sister, and I won’t be a party to that any longer.”

  I spun around to march down the hall, but he grabbed my arm and hauled me to his chest, wrapping me up in his arms.

  “Please, Phoebe. Try to understand.”

  “I understand plenty.” I jerked against his hold and then stiffened when I realized I couldn’t break free. “Let me go, Brandon,” I said in a deadly cold voice.

  Reluctantly, he released me. “I can’t read your mind when you use the magic from the ancestor you just discovered earlier.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You expect me to believe you?”

  He gave a slight shrug, looking defeated. “I don’t expect you to believe anything.” He paused. “The answer to your previous question is ten feet. I couldn’t hear your thoughts in the Small Council meeting until I was standing next to you.”

  I knew he could be lying, but for some reason I believed him.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  Dammit.

  “I’ll stay outside the room,” Brandon said. “The bed’s far enough away from the door I won’t be able to hear your thoughts, but I’ll be concerned for your safety. I’ve gotten used to hearing you, and it gives me comfort knowing that you’re safe.”

  “Deal with it,” I grumbled, then waggled my fingers at the door as I harnessed Grandma Corlew’s magic. The lock clicked, and the door opened. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, leaving Brandon in the hall.

  I moved as close to the window as possible, wondering if I was being too hard on him.

  No, Josie answered, unbidden, which unnerved me. Gwen was right. He was not to be trusted. And yet…Josie was here, reading my mind, and I wasn’t angry with her.

  But I’m not hiding that fact either, she said.

  Nevertheless, my heart protested, and I spent the next minute crying before I shook myself out of it. Celeste and the book were my priority. Not my hurt feelings over a man.

  We’ll deal with them all tomorrow, Josie said.

  Yes, we most definitely would. Tomorrow, I would be leading my own investigation, Brandon Cassidy be damned, and I knew exactly where to start.

  Somewhere Brandon would never think to go.

  Chapter Twenty

  “You want to go where?” he asked the next morning after I let him in to take a shower and change clothes.

  Josie had assured me that he wasn’t lying, that her magic really did prevent him from reading my mind.

  “The library.”

  While I worked in a nonmagical library, I’d been granted access to the Witch National Archives database after I’d completed my degree. A quick search the night before had revealed that the satellite library in Kansas City had a journal that had been donated to the library around the early 1900s. The journal contained information about the earliest magical founding families, but the very fact that it contained a genealogy as well as a list of magical talents meant the journal was under lock and key. I was hoping the journal gave me enough information to at least get a snapshot of the first witches and mages to settle here from Europe—populations that might possibly include Druid blood.

  It had only taken a call to Xenya, who’d been happy to contact the satellite office of the National Archives to access a journal.

  Brandon gave me a suspicious look, not that I blamed him.

  “I could hide this from you,” I said, “but I’m not stupid enough to think I can protect myself from the Dark Set alone. And the library’s close enough that I think I can channel Josie and block you from reading my mind. But I need you to tell me the moment you so much as get a peep of what I’m thinking.”

  “Agreed,” he said, reaching for me, but I stepped back, out of reach.

  “This is a tentative truce,” I said. “We’re not doing… that.” But how my heart ached for him to hold me.

  Dammit.

  He didn’t show any sign of having heard me.

  I told you it would work, Josie said.

  Brandon spent less than five minutes in the shower and was ready to go after only a few minutes more. In an attempt to hurry, he’d forgone shaving, leaving a sexy stubble on his face that made my fingers ache to touch him.

  Priorities, Josie grumbled.

  I quickly remembered Josie had been fourteen when she’d died. There would be no impure thoughts while she was in my head.

  I ain’t all that innocent, you know.

  Nope. Not going there.

  As soon as I knew he was ready, I burst out the door, eager to get started with my research.

  “Why are we going to the library?” Brandon asked, hurrying to keep up.

  “Because I think Markus needed Gwen. He needed a Druid for some kind of ceremony. There aren’t that many of them, but I think there might be others here in town. Which means Markus might have contacted them.”

  “What makes you think there might be more of them here?” he asked in surprise as the elevator door opened.

  I stepped onto the elevator car and he
followed. “Because Henry lives here. He said he felt right here. Gwen mentioned the same. Druids gain power from the land. I’m telling you, for whatever reason, they need a Druid.”

  “What about the Grand Master who is coming tonight?” he asked. “Maybe he’s a Druid.”

  I shook my head. “I thought about that too. He’s not, otherwise why would he have roped in Markus and Gwen?”

  He was silent until we got out in the lobby. “I think you’re right, but I’m going to need coffee. I hardly got any sleep sitting on the floor outside your room.”

  A twinge of guilt hit me, but I pushed it away. “Didn’t someone say anything to you?”

  “You think I’m an amateur?” he asked in a teasing tone. “Glamour.”

  Did he think that sexy smile would soften my anger?

  Dammit. I’d have to rein in my hormones.

  He had the car pulled up to the entrance, and when we got inside, he asked, “Seriously, where are we headed?” Then he quickly added, “Which library?”

  “The Valerian National Archives,” I said, as if it were obvious.

  “Aren’t the National Archives…in Cincinnati?”

  “Yes, the big ones are. But there’s one in every city that’s had a strong influence on the settlement and development of North America.”

  “I think this is a waste of time. We should be out there talking to local witches and mages, seeing if they know anything about Bieler.”

  “I figured you’d try to separate Markus’s magic from Gwen’s,” I said.

  He pursed his lips. “I did. He fused it so tightly it can’t be separated. I can’t track him.”

  “Then why don’t you go talk to witches and mages and let me do my research? I’ll be safe in the archive.”

  “I could make you come with me,” he grunted.

  I turned to him and glared. “Let’s get one thing straight right now. If you think that you’re going to boss me around, then you’ve got another think coming.”