Evicted Witch (Jagged Grove Book 3)

by Willow Monroe

  As the women work, I feel energy stir in the air, coming as called. It swirls lightly through the air around us. Angelo looks over at me, comes to take my hand, and smiles a little. Then he pulls me along with him to the circle.

  I’m only vaguely aware of the chanting. I’m concentrating on tapping into the energy around me and also on Bilda’s face. She would be so excited to see me participating in something like this, and I’m sorry all over again that she isn’t here.

  Angelo is here, though, and I feel his hand, the one holding mine, grow warmer. Then I realize that we’re both swaying. The energy tugs at me, pulling me closer to him. Tingles run from my feet to my knees then farther up, zipping along my spine.

  I giggle.

  Angelo opens his eyes and stares at me.

  “It tickles,” I whisper.

  He shakes his head. The witches keep chanting, so I try to concentrate harder.

  When the spell pulls at our souls we both drop to our knees. It’s hard to breathe, let alone chant, but when Angelo squeezes my hand, I mouth the words - in some odd language - along with him. I have no idea what I’m saying, but I trust May to do this right.

  The tingling increases, and May steps forward to hand Angelo a single goblet of wine. He lifts it to my lips, never breaking the chant, and I drink. It’s sweet and thick, rolling across my tongue. Then he hands it to me and I do the same.

  My bloods heats up until I think I’m about to boil. I can see from the flush on Angelo’s cheeks that he’s feeling the same way.

  A flash of bright white blinds me, and I feel what has to be my soul seeping toward Angelo. At the same time, I know his is doing the same, fusing the air between us. Another flash pulls us together and his arms go around my waist to steady me. Then, in the center of the circle, on our knees, in a whirlwind of magic, he kisses me.

  Lightning strikes somewhere nearby and thunder rumbles in the distance. The witches continue to chant, and we continue to kneel, even when soft cold rain falls on our skin.

  I can taste the wine on his lips, and while Angelo’s kiss doesn’t have the fiery quality of Jones’s kiss, the heat between us is unmistakable.

  We have been wed.

  I pass out.

  Chapter Eighteen

  When I wake up, Angelo and Jones are hovering over me. When they see my eyes open, Angelo says, “May has gone to gather everyone she can. We’ll get Bilda back soon.”

  He’s so sexy. That strong jaw, those fantastic hands rubbing my cheek...His breath on my face stirs something deep in me, and I jump up when I realize that it’s...desire. “Oh, hell.”

  “What?” he asks, but his grin tells me that he knows exactly what.

  “Stay away from me,” I say, backing toward a door. It’s then that I realize I don’t recognize my surroundings. I’m in a house that’s almost as elegant as Blakely’s but not as masculine. The prints on the wall are lighter and the furniture is more detailed than the heavy leather Blakely prefers.

  I look at Jones. “Where are we?” I ask.

  “May’s. She wanted us to wait here.”

  My eyes keep sliding to Angelo - specifically his chest - so I duck through the nearest door and find Blakely making tea in a bright kitchen. I ignore the distinctly uncomfortable sensation of leaving something behind as I walk away.

  “Hello, sleepyhead,” Blakely says, smiling at me.

  “Mm. Can I have some of that?” I ask, nodding toward the tea.

  “Of course.” He sets about making me a cup, and the aroma relaxes me a little, even though I still feel like I’m somehow missing something.

  Possibly my mind.

  Now that we’re wed, will I need to be in Angelo’s presence all the time? That would drive me to jump off something very tall, like Mt. Savage. I take the tea and make myself meet Blakely’s gaze, to avoid looking at the doorway I just came through.

  “You’ll get used to it,” he says with a smirk.

  “I don’t want to get used to it.” I sip my tea and swallow it, even though it burns. “When will May be back?”

  “Soon. She went to convince the other covens to participate.”

  “And why do we need everyone together, again?”

  He smiles patiently. “Because we don’t know what kind of power Dravo is using. If we could say for sure that he was only using his own, then there wouldn’t be a problem. As it is, we don’t know if he has help - or access to power we don’t know about yet. See? If we go in with not enough guns blazing, he’s liable to blow us all away.”

  “So...simply a precaution.”

  He pauses. “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that?”

  He doesn’t answer, and I realize I’ve snapped at him. This Angelo thing is wearing me down. I can still feel a wrongness, niggling at me to get back to him.

  No way. I grip my cup like it will anchor me to the table and keep me in my chair. “Sorry, Blakely.”

  “I understand.”

  It takes two hours and a great deal of mental struggle on my part before May returns. With her comes Imala and a few other witches, Wisp, Winter, and their other coven members, most of whom I’ve only met vaguely. Behind them, following a little more slowly, comes Portia with a trail of women in ritual robes.

  “This is it,” Blakely says, glancing at the parade from the window over the sink. “Time to put the monster in his place.”

  I swallow hard, then go find the others in the living room while our new allies file into the room. May’s eyes find mine immediately and she offers a smile. Introductions are made, and then May stands in the center of the room and raises a hand to get everyone’s attention.

  I can’t help but notice that Jones has distanced himself from us, and that hurts my heart. I catch his eye and shoot him a smile. He returns it with a sad smile of his own.

  “Thank you for coming, she begins, “And thank you for seeing this situation as the threat that it is - a threat to our very lives here on Jagged Grove. Dravo is not a kind man, and I think we all know that. He is manipulative, powerful, and less than honorable in his dealings.”

  I wonder if I should feel worse about her description of my father, but I don’t. It rolls over me and is gone.

  “You each have something to contribute to this event. We need your strength and abilities, but also your support. Hesitation or timidity might get us all killed. Do you understand?”

  I look around to see most people nodding. A few smile encouragement at May. Wisp looks bored, and Portia doesn’t seem to be paying attention at all - she’s busy glaring at Angelo and me, where we stand in the corner of the room.

  So May has given her the gist of what’s happened. I hope that Portia doesn’t sabotage our efforts out of jealousy, but it’s too late to worry about that now. As it is, I feel overwhelmed at the thought of what we have to do, so worrying about a possessive bartender is low on my list of activities.

  Portia catches me watching her, and for a moment I swear she’s going to stick out her tongue. Instead, she rolls her eyes and turns back to May.

  “We need to bind Dravo, and deliver him to Angelo safely, so that he can be contained.”

  A low murmur starts, but she keeps talking. “This will not be an easy task. I don’t think we need a reminder that Dravo has killed witches - our own Aries and Sabrina, to name two - and he has taken others as hostages in the battle for control of the island.”

  “If Dravo takes over the island, maybe we can go home,” one of the women says quietly. I didn’t catch who, so I scan the faces and see Wisp’s friend Winter, staring at Angelo with a challenge in her eyes.

  May isn’t perturbed at all. She levels her own gaze on Winter until she gets the girl’s attention, then says, “If you want to take that chance, be my guest. Personally, I don’t think Dravo will be a kind king - and make no mistake, that’s exactly what he wants to be. Your king and dictator.”

  She waits, looking so much like my mom that my heart breaks a little.

&
nbsp; Winter stares at her for another beat, but then her eyes drop and she offers an almost imperceptible nod. Wisp elbows her in the ribs.

  It suddenly strikes me that I don’t deserve these people. I don’t deserve the way they’ve stepped in and helped me, regardless of all the things that have happened since I came here to Jagged Grove. Some of the women and men here don’t particularly like me, others don’t know me at all. A few of them seem to actively hate my guts, like Portia and Wisp, but that isn’t stopping them from doing what needs to be done and helping to keep us all safe.

  I blink back a tear and feel Angelo squeeze my hand.

  “They know,” he whispers into my ear. “We all know.”

  I swallow hard and squeeze back.

  “We must band together now, like never before,” May continues. “Put aside our pettiness for one of our own and stand for our freedom from Dravo’s tyranny.”

  It sounds theatrical, but it’s working. My heart is beating faster, and I feel a new stir of energy in the air as our wills slowly come together for a worthy cause. If nothing else, May knows how to work a crowd. Thankfully, we have exactly the kind of crowd we need. Witches, all of us.

  I include myself in that assessment, and for the first time in my life, I feel pride about who and what I am. I’m proud to be Bilda’s daughter, and proud to be part of this wonderful place. I look up and meet Angelo’s gaze.

  And I’m proud of what he’s built here. I want to help him protect it.

  May gestures toward Blakely, who has just come back into the room with a large decanter, made of what looks like cut quartz crystal. I can tell that it’s heavy, but he hands it to May and she holds it aloft for all of us to see.

  “A garnet elixir,” she says. “Perfect for the work we’re about to do. Our dear friend Blakely,” she nods to him, but he’s busy handing out small glass cups, “has prepared it for us. Please partake if you wish, and feel free to take what time you need to prepare yourselves for the upcoming battle. We will commence at the stroke of three.”

  I glance at the window to see that darkness has fallen while we weren’t looking, and then at the clock. It’s close to midnight now. I feel like I’ve lost several hours somewhere, but this doesn’t bother me - the sooner we get through this and get my mom back, the better.

  Angelo says, “Come on,” and guides me through the room to a door I haven’t noticed. Inside is a monstrous library, one that any book lover would be proud to own. I take in acres of titles that climb three stories to the ceiling.

  “May loves a good romance novel,” Angelo says. “She’s a sucker for love.”

  I smile, thinking that the description suits her, and hope that I will get the chance to know her better when this is all over.

  “I brought you in here to breathe for a minute, and to ask you how you’re holding up.”

  I smile. “So far, so good. You?”

  “I’m fine, even though this intermingling thing is hard to get used to,” he answers with a laugh.

  I laugh too, but then look more closely at him. “Can you...”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.” Having Angelo beside me is nerve-wracking. Having him inside my brain might be a bit too much. “Is it like this for every handfasted couple?”

  He runs his hands through his hair, making it stick up. “I don’t think so. I think we have a special connection.”

  “What kind of connection?”

  “I have no idea, but I can feel it. Can’t you?”

  I refuse to answer that.

  “Maybe we’ll be able to explore it a little better when this is all over.”

  I want to find a way to break this tie when this is all over, but I don’t say that right now. Right now, we need to embrace our union and defeat Dravo. But there will be an expiration date on this marriage if I have anything to say about it. It’s too close...too hot. Even now I can feel my body tingling with quiet desire. I ignore it. “What happens next?” I ask.

  The preparation. The ritual. If we can keep you from Dravo, then it will all be over quickly.”

  “And if you can’t?”

  “It may never be over. You are the center, Trinket. You are the hub - everything that happens today turns on your power.”

  “And yours,” I protest. It feels too scary.

  “And mine, but only because of our connection. Alone, I’m not enough, and we’ll lose Jagged Grove. Together, we should be damned near invincible. You’ll need to dig deeper than ever before to make this happen. Can you do it?”

  I nod, but slowly.

  “I mean it, Trinket. We need you.” He sits me down into a floral chair and kneels before me, taking both of my hands in his.

  “I know. I just hope you all are right about my power.”

  “We are - we could see it from the beginning. Dravo could see it, too, even when you were a small child. That’s why he chose you to be his most important weapon.”

  I don’t feel important, or powerful. I’m in over my head and I know it. But I’m willing, and I hope, with the guidance of the others, that I can pull this thing off. “Will there be any special requirements for me? During the ceremony, I mean?”

  “Only your focus, and your ability to let the power flow through you.” He smiles sheepishly. It’s cute. “Us, I mean. We should be in perfect harmony at all times.”

  “How do we do that?” The word I would use to describe my relationship with Angelo is not harmony.

  “Well,” he raises an eyebrow, “We could -.”

  “Nope. That’s just...no.” I turn away to keep him from seeing the flush on my face.

  “Ok, ok,” he says, laughing. “I think we’ll be fine. Like I said, I think we have a special connection, and that will be enough.”

  A knock interrupts our conversation, and Blakely is there in the doorway, holding a goblet in one hand. “I would like for you to drink some of my elixir,” he says. “If you wish, of course. I made it with you in mind.”

  I take the glass and peer into it. “I’ve seen Mom make elixirs before, but never with wine. Only water.”

  “A special recipe.”

  I take a sip and then lick my lips. The concoction is tart, but good. I take another sip, and my muscles crackle with renewed energy. “This is fabulous,” I say.

  The garnet has enhanced the calm strength of the wine, pulling energy from its ancient home in the earth and diffusing it throughout the liquid and into my body. I feel languid and invincible, all at once. It’s amazing.

  “Carry the essence with you, my dear. You will need it.”

  I let the sensation sink into my muscles, then look at Angelo to ask if he wants a taste. He’s watching me.

  I gasp, and have to clench my fists to keep from throwing myself at him. “Holy...”

  He’s grinning. “A side effect.”

  I whimper and stand up. If I keep moving I won’t feel the need to... I lick my lips again and wonder what his taste like. Then I wonder what other parts taste like. Then, before I can stop myself, I reach for the button on my jeans. I bend and kiss that sexy hollow at the base of his throat, biting gently. The heat flooding my body is too much, I need to scratch the itch.

  Angelo stops me, puts a hand over mine and moves it from my waistband. “Not now,” he says, chuckling. “Although later, after we survive this...”

  His grin serves as a splash of cold, cold water. Thankfully. My body is still humming, but my mind is wrestling with it, getting it under control. “Sorry,” I mutter.

  His soft laughter follows me from the room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The chatter in the living room has softened to whispers as the witches corral their energy for the task ahead. I see Wisp and Winter holding court on a sofa, talking to their coven members - none of whom seem to be older than twenty or so. I hope that they don’t get hurt in the midst of this mess.

  Portia is standing alone, with her arms crossed and a look of pure murder on her face. I want to speak to her, but I
’m honestly afraid she’ll just stab me or something.

  “You’d think she would be happier.” I whirl around to see Jones standing inches from my shoulder. I’m glad to see him, and doubly glad that he’s speaking to me.

  “Why is that?”

  “She’s rid of her husband, and part of the crowd - two things that Portia always wanted.”

  “Her husband?”

  He looks at me with a smile. “Calhoun. An abusive bastard.”

  I stare at him. How did I not know this? It explains a lot - Portia’s penchant for extramarital activities, Calhoun’s snotty attitude the first - and only - time I met him. I didn’t like him then, and I really hate his guts now. Things are becoming clearer, and I feel a little sorry for Portia. No wonder she’s hateful all the time.

  “Are you ready?” he asks.

  I blow out my cheeks. “I’m ready for people to stop asking me if I’m ready,” I say with a grin. “And no - of course I’m not ready.”

  He laughs, a low chuckle that I normally find sexy, but right now it barely even registers. Great - is my union with Angelo going to ruin me for all other men, too?

  “It’ll all be over soon.” Jones pats me on the shoulder and heads for the kitchen. I watch him go, then decide to just wait around. It’s almost three.

  May, Bloom, and Winter aren’t in the room anymore, so I assume they’ve gone to prepare the circle we’ll need. I eye the crowd. With thirty-three witches that I can count, it’s going to be a big circle.

  Just as the clock strikes three, I jump. Blakely appears from nowhere and puts a hand on my arm to steady me. “Calm down,” he says. “Everything will work out fine.” He smiles. “Are you ready to go get your mom back?”

  I nod. I’m so, so ready.

  May comes and takes my hand, offering me a wide smile of encouragement as she leads me toward the door. Angelo isn’t far behind, and he catches up to grab my other hand. He gives it a squeeze that I feel to the tips of my toes, but he doesn’t say anything. The others file out behind us, and we head for the woods behind May’s house.