by Mara Lee
Sass rang Henrietta’s bell and waited, casting furtive looks in Griffin’s direction.
The door swung open and Henrietta rushed up to envelope Sass in a fierce hug. “Sass!” Henrietta’s eyes then moved to Griffin’s stiff form. “Griffin Sampson, well don’t you just look better than batter. Come in, come in you two.”
Sass turned to Griffin. “Griffin, if you don’t want…”
Griffin’s swallowed and made a sweeping motion with his arm. “After you.”
Sass took a deep breath, said a quick prayer, and crossed the threshold.
* * * *
“Well … in the end we didn’t need you.” Henrietta handed Sass and Griffin mugs of steaming cider. “We closed the circle easily. Myrna’s uncle was eager to talk to her.” Henrietta nodded toward the huddled group at the center of the room. “But I’m so glad you made it.”
Sass smiled weakly.
Henrietta turned to Griffin. “Now, let’s see, how long has it been since we’ve seen one another?”
Griffin swallowed. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember this woman.
Henrietta grinned. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“I…” Griffin sighed. “Guilty as charged. I’m sorry. I can’t place your face.”
Henrietta laughed. “I think you were twelve … you stole my gnome out of my front yard.”
Griffin’s eyes widened. “You can’t be … I mean…”
Henrietta fluffed her hair. “I am—Wicked Mrs. Dane.” Henrietta laughed. “Although, not so wicked after all.”
Griffin was flabbergasted. “You’ve got to be fifty by now. Hell. You look fantastic.”
Sass gasped and hit Griffin on his side.
Henrietta laughed. “Not quite … but getting there. It helps to have a little Fae blood in you. And thank you.” Henrietta motioned toward the center of the room. “Would you like to join?”
Griffin narrowed his eyes. He thought she had just said—
“Join what?” He asked warily.
Henrietta winked. “The circle?”
Behind Griffin, Sass wildly shook her head, ‘no’. “Henny … we … uh … just stopped by to say hello … I don’t think Griffin would like…”
Henrietta rolled her eyes and grabbed Griffin’s arm. “How will he know if he doesn’t try?”
As Griffin was led away, he tossed Sass a helpless look over his shoulder.
Sass groaned and pressed her hands together. “Please … please … don’t let the man I just had sex with die of cardiac arrest.”
Griffin felt like he had just stepped into the Twilight Zone. Wicked Mrs. Dane—who hadn’t aged in fifteen years—had dragged him over to a group of people, men and women. In the center of this motley crew was a … a … ghost? Well, hell, it was something. It was hovering above its seated audience and chatting most amicably with a pretty young woman.
Griffin rubbed his eyes and blinked. He had to be seeing things. He was tired. His mind was still clouded from his amazing time with Saskia in the garden—holy shit, the garden—he didn’t even want to go there. There was a perfectly good explanation for this.
“It’s a raising, Griff.” Sass said quietly from his side.
Griffin swallowed. “A raising,” he repeated.
Sass nodded. “Yes. A group of people get together, close the circle and raise the … uh … the…” Sass wanted to put it delicately, but there was no delicate way to put it, “They raise the dead, Griff.”
“Saskia,” Griffin said her name warningly.
Sass sighed deeply. “Griff, I know this is a little difficult to take in, but … well … this is real … we are real … magic is real … and somewhere, deep inside, you have to know what I say is true.”
“What I know…” Griffin shook his head. “What I know is that you people are really as demented as dad told me you were.” Griffin thrust a hand through his hair and looked with wild eyes around the dim room, before settling his gaze on Sass. “You … You … light dark gardens. Wicked Mrs. Dane hasn’t aged a year. There’s a group of people … right there … who are talking, yes, talking to a … ghost, or whatever that thing is. And,” Griffin snorted, “We can’t forget my sister … who keeps a cauldron ready in her kitchen sink.” Griffin hesitated, laughed harshly and continued, “This is craziness. And Saskia,” he swallowed, “no matter … no matter … how incredible tonight was … with you, in the garden … I can’t be part of this loony bin. I can’t let this town do to me what it has done to my sister … what it did to my mother.”
Sass said nothing.
“Saskia?” Griffin reached toward her and stopped. “I…”
Sass shook her head and turned away. “You should go.”
“Saskia, please, I didn’t mean…” he broke off helplessly.
Sass closed her eyes as if to shut out the pain. “Please … just go, Griff.”
Griffin nodded curtly. “I’ll … I’ll call you.”
Sass listened to his footsteps as he walked away.
* * * *
Griffin tossed some raisins into his frying pan and was unprepared for the whack from the ladle that landed on the side of his head.
“Damn it all!” Griffin whirled around. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Tina, whose eyes were shooting fire, stood her ground. “That’s my question, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” She tapped the ladle against her thigh.
“Tina!” Griffin rubbed his head. “You do not…”
“—Play around with someone’s emotions? No, you don’t.”
Griffin stiffened.
“And yes, I know.” Tina rolled her eyes. “The next time you want to have it out, try not to do it in a room full of people.”
Griffin turned back to his pan. “This is none of your business, Tina.”
“God, you’re such an asshole.”
Griffin growled. “Watch that mouth.”
“I’m not eight any longer, Griff, you can’t boss me around.” Tina shook her head. “Why? Why did you do it?”
Griffin sighed. “I don’t want to talk about this, sis.”
“I know. But I want to talk about it.” Tina placed her hand on her brother’s side. “She’s a friend, Griff. And you hurt her.”
Griffin felt fury and pain work its way through his body. Damn it. Damn it. This was why it was better not to feel, not to get involved.
Griffin turned to face his sister. His eyes were shuttered. “I didn’t want to hurt her, Tina. God, I wanted … I…” Griffin shook his head, “I wanted her. If you could have seen her, Tina,” Griffin’s eyes brightened, “she was so beautiful … so alive … so vibrant. It was like holding … perfection, holding a dream. And then there was this garden…”
Tina sighed.
Griffin continued. “The garden, I’ve never seen anything like it before. Everywhere I looked things were blooming, and my body felt … free … calm. And she was part of it, part of the garden. When I kissed her I felt life as never before.”
Tina nodded gently and said, “Magic.”
Griffin stiffened. “Tricks. Don’t you see, sis, how can I trust this … how can I trust her? How do I know what is real and what isn’t?”
“God, Griff … are you really that stupid?” Tina didn’t let him speak, but rushed on, “You’ve let dad poison you. You’ve let him fill your head with all this … this … rubbish. Mom…”
“Mom was certifiable.”
Tina narrowed her eyes. “Mom taught us to be part of the magic, to feel it, embrace it, live it. What did dad teach us?” Tina snorted, “To keep our head in the ground, toe the line and pretend that the world is a dark, gray cloud of smoke without any light. Now, I don’t know about you … but I’ll take living the magic over inhaling black smoke any day.”
* * * *
Sass had known about the risks when she had started out. She knew what it would mean to bring him there. She knew … and still she risked it. She had to, because she
knew that it was there, buried deep, but there.
Griffin Sampson was part of the magic—whether he wanted to be, or not. Whether he wished to admit it or not, he had the blood. His mother had been powerful, his sister was powerful … and he … if he opened up just a little, could learn about his nature, his potential.
He was so reserved … so tightly wound she wondered how he had survived this long.
But in the gardens … God … in the gardens … she had seen the side of him she knew slumbered right beneath the surface. His passion … his longing … his absolute need of her, of the magic, had awoken the brilliance of the garden in full. She had felt the garden welcome them, she had felt as the plants, flowers, trees rejoiced in their closeness. And … if he would stop being such a complete and total jerk, and running like a total coward—he would see it too.
Sass sighed and tried to get a rein on her emotions … emotions that were all tied to one, Griffin Sampson. She was doing a job. And her stupid emotions were getting in the way … was her Turkey crooked?
She eyed the turkey critically and nodded. It wasn’t bad. Not bad for a first attempt.
Mrs. O’Leary had called. She wanted festive Thanksgiving decorations this year. Sass had been all too happy to oblige the sweet old lady. She gathered up her provisions and made her way over to Mrs. O’Leary’s massive Victorian Mansion.
She decided to start with the first turret. She constructed some sturdy plastic turkeys and strung them all together with autumn leaves and local dried berries. The result was pretty darned good.
Now—to add a little magic.
“Playing Martha again this year?” The voice that came from below was saccharine sweet and tinged with more than a shot of real malice.
Sass stiffened, adjusted her balance on the ladder and looked down. Why was God punishing her?
“Run out of lemons, Tabitha?” Sass asked sweetly.
Tabitha Spencer narrowed her eyes. “What?”
“Your face is only slightly less sour than it was yesterday, so I was thinking you might have run out of your stash of lemons.” Sass went back to work on the turkeys.
Tabitha clenched her hands into tight fists and seethed. With one quick look, to make sure no one was around, she drew back her foot and delivered a solid kick to the ladder which held Sass precariously aloft.
The ladder tipped and jiggled, and immediately, Sass was thrown off balance. She let out a small shriek as she lost her footing and was tossed back, off the ladder.
Sass had barely a moment to chant the necessary spell to ease her way to the ground. The ground rose up to meet her—although not as hard as it could have. She lay dazed for several long moments on the porch of Mrs. O’Leary’s barely decorated Victorian.
“That’s a good look for you,” Tabitha said quietly, evilly.
Sass took several deep breaths and sat up, slowly. She touched the back of her head and her hand came away stained with blood.
Sass winced. “Don’t you think you’re taking the stereotype a little far, Tabbie? The Wicked Witch of the West is so passé.”
Tabitha growled.
Sass pulled herself to her feet and only just swayed slightly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
Tabitha came to stand so close to Sass she could feel the heat of her breath touch her face. Her cold eyes glittered like chips of black onyx. Sass stood her ground.
“Don’t think I’m not going to have him, Riley,” Tabitha sneered. “It’s only a matter of time. He already hates you.”
Sass stiffened. It was obvious who Tabitha was speaking of.
“And I’ll bind him completely.”
Sass’s eyes widened and she snarled. “If you touch him, I’ll make you wish you were never born.”
Tabitha’s laughter was immediate and disbelieving. “And you’ll what? Flood my house with flies, perhaps? Break my broomstick in two?” Tabitha scoffed. “I don’t think so, Riley. You are nothing but a second-rate hack. You’re lucky you were admitted to The Academy at all.” She swept her hand. “All this … nothing but illusion and the semblance of magic. You should take your act on the road … they’d love you in Las Vegas.”
Sass blinked and then burst out into laughter.
Tabitha was completely bewildered.
Sass shook her head, still laughing. “Your material doesn’t change one bit.” Sass clucked her tongue. “You’ve been spouting the same bullshit since we were children, Tabbie. What, with all your power I’d think you’d be able to come up with some more original dialogue…” Sass grinned, “Can’t you just summon yourself a speech writer?” Sass watched Tabitha’s darkening, mottled, complexion carefully. The moment she saw Tabitha begin to chant, she jumped back and readied herself. One deliberate fall off the ladder was quite enough for the day, thank you.
Tabitha drew back her hand and was just about to throw out a spell when the front door of the Victorian flew open.
Mrs. O’Leary beamed at the two scowling witches on her doorstep. “Company, for me? Oh, please, please, do come in. I’ve made cider … and I have some lovely pumpkin pie all ready and warmed.”
Sass gave Mrs. O’Leary an indulgent smile. The poor woman didn’t even remember hiring her to decorate her house. “Thank you Mrs. O’Leary.”
Tabitha nodded. Her hands were now tightly clenched and hidden within the folds of her pockets. “Thank you, Mrs. O’Leary, we’d love to.”
Mrs. O’Leary’s smile broadened and she ushered the two girls into her house.
* * * *
Full of pumpkin pie and spiced cider, Sass went back outside to resume work on Mrs. O’Leary’s roof. Inside the house, Mrs. O’Leary was still regaling Tabitha with stories of how she and her deceased husband, Randolph, had met.
It was strange. How every once in a blue moon Tabitha Spencer could behave like a normal, decent, upstanding, and sane witch. She didn’t seem to hate anyone else in Daring—not with such all-consuming passion—just her. She had never tried to make anyone else’s life miserable, just Sass’. It continued to amaze her—bitterness and jealousy … and how deep they could lie within a person.
“You have cranberries in your hair.”
Sass whipped around at the sound of the familiar deep voice. “Griff … hi…” she tried to shake out her hair, but it was like a giant tangled nest.
Griffin smiled. “What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
Griffin laughed. “Not really.”
“Ah … that’s because you’ve been away for too long.” And you never stay around. Sass cleared her throat. “I’m decorating Mrs. O’Leary’s house … it’s sort of a tradition. She wanted festive Thanksgiving decorations this year.”
Griffin looked up at the clucking turkeys on the roof. “Ah, I see. Neat turkeys.”
Sass nodded. “Thanks.” Suddenly she felt very, very awkward. She was standing with cranberry-laden hair, in front of the man of her dreams and they were talking about turkeys. Yeah. It was the moment she had been waiting for her entire life.
Griffin shifted on his feet and sighed. “Listen, Saskia … I just wanted to say I’m sorry about the other night. It was wrong of me to just … dump on you like that. And the things I said…”
“—Are things you’ve been raised to believe. It’s okay. Really, it’s okay.” Sass forced a smile. “I understand.” She wrinkled her nose. “Okay, I don’t really understand. But I’m trying to.”
Griffin laughed. “Well, how’s that for being honest.”
Sass blushed. “Better said now than later.”
Griffin reached over and plucked a cranberry out of her hair. His expression was oddly tender. “Listen Saskia … could we…”
“My, my, if it isn’t Griffin ‘Stud Muffin’ Sampson.” Tabitha strode confidently over to the pair.
Sass wanted to scream. Or turn Tabitha into a frog.
Griffin blinked a couple of times. “Do … we know one another?”
Tabitha ran her long fingernails down the side of his arm in an intimate gesture and smiled seductively. “Perhaps.” She tossed back her long blond hair and licked her lips. “I’m Tabitha Spencer.”
“I’m sorry … the name doesn’t ring a bell.” Griffin tilted his head to the side and continued to study her. “But … you sort of look … familiar…”
Tabitha laughed. “I’m sure you say that to all the girls.”
Griffin was befuddled. “Lately … it seems that way.” He looked between Tabitha and Sass.
“Well then … how about we grab a bite? Renew our acquaintance?” Tabitha squeezed Griffin’s upper arm and gave him a heavy-lidded look full of suggestive promise.
Griffin gently shook her off. “Sorry … Sass and I already have a date.” Griffin put his hand at the small of Sass’s back and began to gently lead her off the porch.
Tabitha watched the pair with hate-filled eyes.
Chapter Five
“You just said no to Tabitha Spencer.” Sass captured a long strand of spaghetti on her fork and began, rather unceremoniously, to gobble it down.
Griffin watched her with laughing eyes. “Yeah, I did.”
Sass licked her lips. “Mind telling me why?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He asked, repeating her earlier words to him.
Sass smiled. “Not really.”
Griffin leaned over the table and speared her with a heated look. “There’s only one woman I’m interested in … there’s only one woman I’d like to drag off to the bathroom and fuck right now.”
She gulped. “I … wouldn’t suggest it…” Sass licked her suddenly dry lips. “The bathroom’s here are pretty filthy.” She put down her fork. “I only live five minutes away.”
Griffin beamed. “Think we can make it in two?”
* * * *
Sass barely had time to unlock and make it through her front door before Griffin’s hands were reaching to pull up her dress.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he growled from the side of her neck. His tongue was making slow circles on the sensitive skin right below her earlobe.
Her small fingers began to work on the front of Griffin’s shirt. When her trembling fingers couldn’t handle the buttons, she said a short spell and watched with avid eyes his shirt tear open.