“I’ll go.” Rain volunteers. “If Jones will go with me.”
I sigh. Jones sighs. Blakely chuckles. “Sounds good.”
The minute they’re out the door, with Rain hanging on Jones’s arm like they’re going to the prom, Blakely turns to me. “Do you trust him?”
“Yes. Why?” I put my head on the dining room table. “He seems to be sincere, and I really don’t have a choice, Blakely. My social circle here in Jagged Grove is more of a social dot.”
He smiles.
“I’m serious. You, Jones, the twins... You guys are all I’ve got, and you’re definitely the only ones willing to help me find Mom.”
“You have other friends.”
“No, I don’t. Imala suggested Angelo send me away -.”
“Because she’s worried.”
“Maybe.” I have my doubts. “Angelo wants rid of me, and everyone else - Portia, Wisp - they hate my guts.”
“Maybe Angelo is worried about your safety.”
I can’t help it. I snort at that one. “He’s my own personal irritant. The man put me in handcuffs.”
Angelo still makes certain parts of me tingle, but I refuse to trust him or believe that he has my best interests at heart.
What about your father?” Blakely asks me quietly.
I consider the question. What about him? He’s a wild card in this whole mess. He seems to want to help, and I’m grateful for that. At the same time, I’m worried that he isn’t as sweet and paternal as he seems, especially since reading the note in the file. “I just don’t know. He’s a stranger to me.”
“So are we, really, my dear.”
“But you’ve been with us, supporting us, from the beginning. Dravo hasn’t. In fact, I’d say he’s gone out of his way to avoid us. Why would he do that, especially if he’s the one who orchestrated our arrival?”
“Men who are in love with a woman like Bilda don’t have room for reason in their hearts, Trinket.”
“He isn’t in love with Bilda. Well, he said he would always love her, but according to the note you translated, he was using her to get me here.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly true.”
“Why not?”
Blakely didn’t answer at first. Instead, he disappeared through the kitchen doorway, leaving me to stew, and came back a few minutes later with two mugs of coffee.
Sliding one in front of me, he said, “Angelo has been given carte blanche on Earth, Trinket. At least the U.S. portion of it. He wouldn’t need the excuse of your mother to make you disappear. He could have just snatched you up and brought you here.”
I sip my coffee carefully and think about this. “I have to wonder why Angelo would do something like this just because Dravo wanted it. What’s the catch? Why would Angelo care at all what he wants?”
“Appeasement, maybe.”
I blink at him.
“Angelo and Dravo both know that Dravo is the more powerful warlock. He has experience and cunning on his side, and Angelo, as old as he is, is no real match. Maybe Angelo thought that getting you here would distract Dravo, or comfort him, and end the standoff.”
“So...if Dravo wants something, why doesn’t he just take it?”
“Dravo has always wanted control of Jagged Grove, and he could have it, but the battle would rip this place apart. There would be nothing left for either of them then. I believe, for what it’s worth, that Dravo is biding his time. One day, Angelo will let his guard down, and the battle will begin.”
His words remind me of something... It teases at the edge of my mind, driving me batty, before it comes full blown into my memory. “Sither.”
“What about him? He’s a low-level nuisance.”
“So I keep hearing. But he came up to me at the Callahan party and told me to be careful.”
“How dramatic,” Blakely says, chuckling. “Just like him.”
“No - listen. He said that there is a war going on in Jagged Grove, and that I am the prize. That lines up with what you just told me about Dravo and Angelo.”
“It isn’t a war, Trinket. It’s more of a peace treaty. Nobody wins, nobody loses. A stand-off, more or less. It’s been that way for decades.”
“But what if things are coming to a head? What if the thread is ready to snap, and then there will be all out war?”
“That would be devastating. But why now? And what does that have to do with Bilda?”
“I don’t know how much she told you about her younger days, but she was an incredibly powerful witch.”
“She still is. You just don’t see it,” he murmurs.
I nod, even though I beg to differ. Maybe he’s right, but I’ve bailed her out enough to know that if she is that powerful, she’s forgotten how to use it properly. “OK, so as far as Dravo knows, she does still have her power. What if he’s going to use her to tip the scales and give him the extra power he needs to defeat Angelo cleanly?”
Blakely is quiet for a long time, then he slowly nods. “It’s possible, I suppose. But Bilda won’t just help him from the goodness of her heart. She’ll fight him. In case you haven’t noticed, she’s enjoying Jagged Grove.”
My mind is spinning now, trying to put the pieces together. “Unless he’s using something against her. Threatening her with something... Or someone.” I look up. “Like her sisters.”
“May and Bloom.” Blakely stares at me. “That could be it. But why the murders? I just can’t see Dravo getting his hands dirty with something so...common.”
His tone, and my euphoria at maybe figuring this thing out, makes me laugh out loud. “Oh, Blakely. You’re such a gentleman.”
“I know that. What’s so funny?”
“Never mind. How soon will Jones and Rain get back here with May?”
Blakely leans back and pulls his watch from his pocket. “Could be another twenty or thirty minutes. It depends. But Trinket, what if you’re wrong? We can go chasing after Dravo, but if the real killer is still doing away with coven members, we’ll miss it, and then your Aunt May - and possibly others - will be dead.”
“If we’re wrong, why isn’t she dead already?” I ask. “Someone is killing the High Priestesses, and she’s one of them. If Dravo is using her to control Mom, then he can’t kill her.”
When Jones and Rain finally come back, they are alone.
“Where is she?” I ask, looking past them through the open front door.
Jones shakes his head. “Nowhere. It’s like she disappeared from the island. She isn’t home or anywhere that we looked in the colony.”
Blakely stares at me. “She could be dead,” he says, in that thoughtful way of his.
“No.” I take a deep breath. “She isn’t dead. I’m sure of it.”
“If someone is killing the High Priestesses of Quellan Coven, then she might be, Trinket,” Jones says. “I know you’re going through a lot, but...”
His voice trails off. I’m shaking my head. Then I take some time to fill him in on our theory.
Rain sits close to him on the sofa, listening quietly. I can see her mind working, too.
“So you think Dravo is going to try to take control of the island from Angelo, but he needs Bilda’s power to do it.”
“Exactly. And she has a sweet nature - she wouldn’t do such a thing unless he’s threatening her. My bet is that he’s using May and maybe even Bloom to force her to help him.”
He looks worried. “Are you sure about this?”
“No. Not even a little bit. But at least it ties everything together.”
“No it doesn’t,” Rain protests. “Why would he kill the High Priestesses? The other ones, I mean?”
That question has me stumped, but I’m sure there’s an explanation. I just haven’t thought of it yet. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
Jones stands up. “You mean confront him? Trinket, that’s nuts.”
I turn to him and plant my hands on my hips. “So is this entire theory, in case you haven’t figur
ed that out yet. Dravo and Angelo are grown men, not kids fighting over the swing set on the school playground.”
“I know.”
“People are dying, so these two can have a big...territory...contest? Seriously? And they’ve dragged my mom into their mess? How stupid is that?”
“I know.” Jones puts a hand on my arm, but I jerk away.
No, he doesn’t know - it’s not his mom who is under the gun right now, in who knows what kind of danger. “I’m going. Now. Before he figures out that we know what he’s up to.”
Chapter Twelve
When I step outside, Jones is with me, but he’s thankfully told Rain to stay behind. She’s pouting on Blakely’s sofa. Blakely is comforting her, because, in his words, “I’m not a witch. I’d be a pebble in the tread of Dravo’s shoe by the end of this.”
It takes us a couple of hours to get through the woods to Dravo’s house, mostly because we have to stay off the path, and also because we need to hide from Angelo’s men - twice.
“They’re busy,” I mutter, ducking under a low tree and scraping my cheek in the process. I rub it. “Wonder what’s up?”
“He knows you’re missing by now. He’s got his entire security force looking for you,” Jones whispers.
“Wonderful. At least if they’re looking for me, they aren’t looking for Bilda, so that’s something.”
When we round the corner to his street, Dravo’s monstrous house looks ominous in the muted afternoon sunshine. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the odd vibe on this end of the island. It’s foreboding - which doesn’t help my nerves.
I stand on the sidewalk and consider what I’ll do when I get inside. Honestly, I have no idea, and this time I might be biting off more than I can chew.
Jones stands close to me, protective. I’m grateful for his help, but still peeved that he was tracking my every move with that moonstone ring. What gives him the right to do that? Another thing I’ll have to work through later.
I take a deep breath and start up the walkway. I know that Dravo knows I’m here, but I hope he’ll think I’m coming to ask for help. The door opens before I can knock.
“Trinket?” Dravo asks, concern on his face, mixed with a certain wariness.
I look up...and up...at him. He’s such a big man, and right now that’s pretty intimidating. Maybe I should come back another time...
I catch sight of his pinky finger - or lack of one - and it reminds me that, once upon a time, my mom got the upper hand. Dravo isn’t some invincible force. “Can I talk with you?” I ask.
“Of course.” He pushes the door wide and steps away so that I can brush past him and into the cooler interior of the grand entrance hall. An involuntary shiver runs down my arms when I cross the threshold. Is this guy holding Bilda hostage? Or is he controlling her some other way? Is she here, somewhere inside this vast building that looks like it goes on forever? In a dungeon, maybe?
I know I’m being melodramatic, but the setting seems to call for it.
The tension ratchets up a notch when Jones steps inside. Dravo doesn’t want him here, and he’s making his preference known. “He’s with me,” I say, surprised and glad that my voice isn’t trembling. “Let him in.”
“This is my home, Trinket.” Dravo’s voice rumbles.
“If I come in, he comes, too.” I lift my chin and meet his eyes. I feel like I’m trapped in a weird western.
Dravo’s gaze swings from Jones to me, eyebrows raised. Amusement glints there. I know he could kill us both if he wanted - and that thought leads me to another problem with my theory. If Dravo needs Bilda’s power, and knows I won’t rest until I find her, then why doesn’t he just get me out of the way?
My eyes meet Jones’s, but I can’t say anything to him right now. My mind is racing, though. Does Dravo want to use me to control Bilda, too? She’s a strong-willed woman, but I know she’ll crumble if he holds my life in his hands.
Suddenly I’m very glad that Jones is here. I walk over and take his hand. “We came to ask if your men have found my mother yet.” I say.
He shakes his head and stares directly into my eyes. “Please - follow me. We’ll go somewhere more comfortable.”
Now that I have a working theory, everything this man says sounds threatening. Jones squeezes my hand and we follow Dravo to a spacious library. Walls of books darken the room a little, in spite of the bank of windows that look out over the bay on this end of the island. Beneath the windows is an elegant antique writing desk. It looks flimsy.
Dravo offers us seats, a couple of leather club chairs that are a study in casual stylish. I shake my head. “Have you found Bilda?” I ask again. I refuse to let him get me sidetracked.
“Unfortunately, no.” He props an elbow on one of the shelves and leans back against it. So casual, for someone who is committing crimes. I rub my temple. “Any ideas at all?” I ask.
“Two days ago my men spotted her with another woman, near the water.” He points out the windows. “I think it was probably May, and that they are in hiding together. May hasn’t been to work since Bilda disappeared.”
I exchange a glance with Jones. Since he couldn’t find May earlier, that sort of makes sense.
Or Dravo could be lying. I’m betting on that.
I rearrange my face into a worried expression. “Has anyone reported her disappearance to Angelo?”
“Of course. He’s such an amateur, though, that I doubt he can find her, any more than he’s been able to find Bilda.”
He’s lying this time - I’m sure of it. If May had been reported missing, there would be some note of it in Bilda’s file. Angelo would have made the connection. Looking at Dravo, I’m suddenly angry.
It must show on my face, because his next words are, “What’s wrong, Trinket? You seem tense.”
“My mother is missing,” I snap.
“Of course, my dear.”
“I think you know where she is.” I lift my chin. Jones groans and squeezes my hand harder.
“My dear, if I knew, she would be safely tucked away here. I promise you that.”
“No she wouldn’t.” I glance down at his finger. “Somehow, I get the impression that here is the last place she would be.”
“She’s upset, Dravo,” Jones says. “Please forgive her.”
I snatch my hand away, even though I know he’s only trying to help. Jones grabs it again. “People are dying. Witches are dying. My mother is a witch. Of course I’m upset.”
Dravo watches me impassively, and I want to smack him. Unfortunately, I’d probably need a step-ladder to do it. I mentally will him to tell me where Bilda is, but he seems oblivious to my glare. Finally he says, “I understand that you’re upset, but you aren’t helping anyone by being so...out of control, Trinket.”
OK, now I am going to smack him. I jerk my hand from Jones’s and take a step toward him, but he sees what’s happening and flicks a finger, stopping me dead in my tracks. It’s another one of those force-field doohickeys, and I bonk my nose before I realize it.
“Trinket, calm down.” Dravo looks at Jones. “I’m going to have one of my staff take her to a bedroom. It would be best.”
Jones’s face darkens. “No. Sorry. She doesn’t leave my side, Dravo, not until we figure out what’s going on.”
Dravo lifts an eyebrow. “Fine, then,” he says, and flicks his finger again. This time he mutters something, but I can’t understand what he’s saying because suddenly...we aren’t there anymore.
“Damn,” Jones says beside me. I blink and look around but can’t see him.
“Jones?” I’m too confused to take a step. The lights have gone out. Wherever we are, it’s freezing. I rub my arms.
“I’m here.”
“Here where?” Now my voice is trembling. I reach for the spot where I think his voice is originating, but feel only empty air.
He’s...moved us. Put us somewhere. “Can he do that?” I ask stupidly.
“He just did.”
Wherever we are, its pitch black and very cold. I’m afraid to move. “Did he just kidnap us?” I ask.
“Umm...yes?”
I want to cry. “Why would he do that?”
“Because you were losing it, first of all. Also, he’s a jerk. A very powerful, arrogant jerk.”
I silently agree, but we have bigger problems. “We need to get out of here.”
“On the plus side, Angelo won’t find you.”
A tiny weight shifts across the toe of my sneaker. A snake? “Shut up. Get us out of here,” I say, fighting back hysteria.
“I’m working on it.” His voice sounds strained. “It would help if I knew where here was.”
I don’t care where here is - I just want to be there. Any there will do.
“Hurry.”
“I’m not a witch, Trinket. I’m a werewolf. I usually need accessories to cast spells, and I’m out at the moment. You get us out of here.”
“Uhh...” I’m getting better at using my magic, but I don’t have a clue how to make a teleportation happen. Bilda did it once, not long ago, but I don’t know how. “Can you walk me through it, or something?”
“I really can’t. Just try anything.”
That isn’t what I want to hear. “What if I accidentally transport us to the middle of the ocean? Or Angelo’s office?”
“Or a dungeon somewhere in the colony?” Sarcasm laces his voice, but he has a point.
This is one of those moments when I truly wish I could use my magic as casually as Rain and Bilda do, and I wish one of them were here right now.
“Ok. Intention, Trinket,” I mumble. Closing my eyes, I try to draw in energy from around us, but there isn’t much, and what is there doesn’t feel powerful to me. Oh, well, I’ll have to work with what I’ve got. “Jones, come here.”
“Keep talking.”
“I’m going to try to put us back at Blakely’s house.”
“OK.” He finds my shoulder just as he says it, and then slides his hand down to mine. I close my eyes tight and try to add his energy to the weak energy in this place as well as my own. The surge feels stronger, though still fluttery.
I try to picture Blakely’s house, specifically his living room. I imagine us standing there, with Blakely and Rain, talking. Then, just like the day I faced off with Rachel, I wait for the words to come, praying that they work.
Evicted Witch (Jagged Grove Book 3) Page 11