by Neely Powell
Suddenly, a vine snaked out and wrapped around her wrist. Brenna dropped the magnifier and pulled back, but she was held fast. When she struggled, her other wrist was ensnared. She braced herself, hoping her legs would give her leverage enough to release the vine’s hold. Instead, she was jerked hard against the oak tree’s unyielding trunk. More vines encircled her torso and neck, flattening her face against the tree.
Brenna tried to scream. The vine was compressing her lungs and she couldn’t get out more than a squeak. With her cheek against the rough bark, she couldn’t move her head or see much of her surroundings. Her breathing became fast and shallow as her panic grew. The vine continued to strangle her.
Lightheaded, she couldn’t move, couldn’t call out and couldn’t focus her powers to summon help from the goddess. Surely Aunt Frances would come out soon and rescue her. Fighting for every breath, she opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of someone near the herb garden. Was it her cousin Lauren?
Brenna felt a brief surge of hope before everything went black.
Chapter Eight
Jake saw Brenna’s vehicle in the driveway at her aunt’s home and slowed his cruiser. Should he stop? Since their conversation in the diner last Friday night, there had been little opportunity to talk.
The trouble in the county was steady. His deputies covered five domestic calls today, most of them involving families who were normally quiet and peaceful. That was more domestic cases than the department saw in months. Even if getting closer to Brenna was a good idea—which it wasn’t—he was too busy.
But throughout this busy week of fourteen-hour days and the final goodbye to his best friend, Jake thought about Brenna often. He could close his eyes now and remember her naked in the moonlight, her ivory skin gleaming, auburn hair tousled by the wind while she cleansed her family’s land. Since then, he fantasized many erotic scenarios with her.
He wanted her.
But having her would be complicated. She was a strong witch in the ruling coven of the place he called home. If things went bad…
After the tragedy of his parents’ mating, he avoided romantic complications. So why did he swing his cruiser into the driveway next to Brenna’s SUV? The memory of full breasts, womanly hips and Brenna’s fiery magic was a powerful draw. Even though the tempting witch had given him no encouragement or special attention the few times they saw one another this week, he felt compelled to talk to her.
He did have a reason other than lustful fantasies to talk to her, he reassured himself. This afternoon, he found the source of the phrase the young troublemakers had spray painted in town last week. According to the internet, the words “See you in the darkness” came from notorious convicted murderer Gary Gilmore while he was awaiting his 1977 execution.
Jake still had no idea why the boys had written it on the side of the Dollar General Store.
Those boys were the reason he was in this part of town. He had spoken with all of them after learning the source of the quote. Not one could even tell him who Gary Gilmore was. Their drug tests were negative. They were three average boys very ashamed of what they’d done. They couldn’t explain their actions, either.
Jake was also frustrated by the store’s white wall, which the boys had repainted three times. As soon as every coat of paint dried, the bleak words bled through. He was trying to convince the manager that a deeper color would solve the problem. In truth, he wasn’t sure that would work. He had just been thinking he wanted to talk to Brenna about it when he turned down this road and saw her car.
A dark cloud loomed over Frances Hutton’s house. He wondered if they’d have rain later tonight and watched the troubled sky as he walked to the front porch. There was something strange about that sky.
As he reached porch, he heard a hiss. He turned toward the woods, shocked to see an owl sweeping in out of the trees. What the hell was the bird doing out this time of day? With a loud warning call, the bird flew toward the back of the house.
Before he could react, Frances opened the front door. “I saw you drive up, Jake. I hope you’re not here about more trouble in the county.”
“I’m just looking for Brenna,” he assured her. “I saw her car and decided to stop.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “Thank goodness. She’s been out back in the garden sketching for hours.” She held the door open. “Come on in.”
Frances led him to a kitchen bright with late afternoon sunshine. “You look like you need to cool off, too. Can I get you water or lemonade?” She opened the refrigerator door and smiled.
Damn, but these Connelly witches charmed you when their green eyes sparkled, Jake thought as he asked for water. Frances handed him two bottles and suggested he take one out to Brenna.
He nodded to the back door, itching to see Brenna. “I just need a minute with her.”
Now there was a knowing twinkle in Frances’s gaze. “I’m sure you do. Go right ahead.”
Jake started to tell the older woman not to get the wrong idea. She might sense his interest in Brenna, but nothing was going to develop there, even though Frances was known as a stubborn matchmaker. A couple of years ago, she had the same gleam in her eye regarding Jake and her granddaughter, Lauren. The pretty witch had spent plenty of time trying to enchant Jake, but he had never given in. Forewarned by Garth, he knew not to look Lauren in the eyes.
Outside, the color and fragrance of Frances’s garden filled his senses. After growing up in a desert where the dominant colors were shades of brown, he had a real appreciation for the colorful plants grown in the South.
Hearing the distinctive call of the owl again, he crossed the covered kitchen porch. An axe and some saws were leaned against the house, and a fresh tree stump was in the yard just to the left. Logs were stacked nearby, ready for splitting. He remembered his deputy, Brian, telling him the last storm had knocked a tree down at Frances’s house. No doubt one of the many Connelly cousins had been out here working on the cleanup.
The owl’s cry drew Jake’s attention. An alarm sounded deep inside him. He saw a patch of white in the side yard. Brenna’s sketchpad and pencils were on the ground. Where was she?
The owl screamed and thunder rumbled as if in reply. Jake lifted his head, scenting rain and something more—an acrid smell that turned his concern to panic. Where was Brenna? He turned in a circle, looking in each corner of the big yard, from the gardens to the big, ancient oak, to—
At first the nightmare scene didn’t register. Then Jake realized Brenna was pressed against the big oak’s massive trunk. A bright green vine tied her to the tree. It was so thick she was barely visible.
“Brenna!” he shouted.
He saw no movement, no sound, no sign of life. Jake dropped the water bottles, grabbed the axe beside the porch and ran toward her, fearing she might be dead. Heart pounding, he raced to the side of the tree away from Brenna. He swung the axe with all of his might, cutting into the thick vine. It broke, but regenerated in seconds, keeping Brenna tightly wrapped. Overhead the owl circled and hissed in alarm.
He shouted for Frances over and over as he fought the vine with his axe. He needed magic to get Brenna out of this. He yelled and hacked at the plant until the older woman opened the door of the screened porch.
The sensible witch didn’t waste time asking for explanations. “Get the flower,” Frances screamed at him as she hurried across the yard. “Kill the flower.”
Only then did Jake see the bright red bloom at the tree’s base. The flower pulsated, as if pumping energy into the angry vine. The menacing growth was between Brenna’s ankles. If he hit too far to the left or right, he could cut off her foot.
“Kill it!” Frances shouted as she arrived at his side. Her eyes closed as she chanted, “Guide his hand. Guide him well. Kill this bloom, this vine from hell. Save this girl. Free the tree. As I will, so mote it be.”
Empowered, Jake drew the big axe back, aimed and brought it down with all his strength. He split the flower exactly in half.
>
A keening like an animal in pain filled the air as the vine unwrapped. The long tendrils dried up as they hit the ground. Jake was at last able to break the stems. He tossed aside the blade, got Brenna’s arms free and held her as the vicious, living rope fell away and faded to dust. The dark clouds overhead retreated toward the mountains with the owl in flight behind them.
Jake was laying Brenna in the grass when a shout sounded from the house. Lauren ran toward them, her face white against her auburn hair. “Granny. Granny, are you okay? I came home and heard shouting out here. I thought—”
“It’s Brenna,” Frances said, grasping her granddaughter’s arms. “She’s been attacked.”
Jake checked Brenna for signs of life. Her breathing was shallow with intermittent shuddering gasps. The damn monster had almost crushed the life out of her. How could he help? He started to speak into the radio on his shoulder, but Frances stopped him.
“This was magic-made and will have to be treated with special healing. Get her inside to the front bedroom.” Frances turned to Lauren. “You get on the phone and get Sarah and Eva Grace over here. I’ll get something to help Brenna.”
While Lauren punched numbers into her phone, Jake picked Brenna up in his arms and followed Frances inside. “That way,” she said, pointing him down a hall while she hurried to the kitchen.
In a pale pink bedroom filled with ruffles and lace, Jake laid Brenna on the bed. Her pulse was slow and weak, but she was drawing air in jerky gulps. That had to be a good sign. He checked her body for wounds and found nothing more than purpling bruises. They colored her face, neck and the bare legs revealed by her khaki shorts. Her T-shirt was in shreds. More bruises and abrasions were visible through the torn knit.
Rage flooded him at the damage to her delicate skin. The wildness he carried inside almost broke free. Despite his efforts at control, he snarled with all the anger of an angry beast. Dammit, this was exactly why he couldn’t get involved with anyone. If he couldn’t contain his wild side, who knew what could happen or who he would hurt. He backed away from the bed, still growling.
Frances, however, showed no fear of him as she hustled into the room carrying a teacup. “Hush now. Eva Grace and the others are on their way. Let’s see if we can get Brenna to drink this.”
Jake smelled mint. “What is it?”
“Just some hyssop tea. It should give her body a little boost.” The older woman glared at him. “Get moving now. Help me get this into her.”
Conquering the beast inside him, Jake slid a hand under Brenna’s neck and lifted her so Frances could put the cup to her lips. Lauren hovered in the doorway, hands fluttering, murmuring under her breath.
“Come on, Brenna. Drink a little of this and it will make you feel better,” Frances crooned. Finally, Jake angled himself behind Brenna, cradling her so that the older woman could force some of the liquid into her mouth. Brenna swallowed automatically.
Frances set aside the cup and gestured for Lauren. “Get over here and help me. We’ve got to give her strength.”
Lauren linked hands with her grandmother. Both witches chanted as Jake held Brenna in his arms. Her body began to relax. Her breathing evened out and strengthened. He checked her pulse and found it steadier, so he laid her back on the bed. Frances and Lauren stood over her, their eyes closed as they spoke low words in a language unknown to him. A circle of light spread outward, enclosing Brenna and Jake in warmth and comfort.
Within that safe haven, Jake added his will to that of the witches.
The others arrived soon after and Jake stepped out to let them tend to Brenna. He went to look at the tree again. Other than the discarded axe and Brenna’s art supplies, nothing remained of what happened. The crumbled vine turned to dust and disappeared. The tree was solid and strong, with no trace of the sinister darkness that filled its vast limbs only a short while ago. The owl was gone as well.
As he retrieved Brenna’s sketchpad and pencils, Jake took a deep breath. All he smelled were flowers, grass and earth, undercut by the faint stink of a gift from a neighborhood dog. He retrieved the art kit Brenna left in the butterfly garden, and then again circled the big tree. He couldn’t see anything amiss. He picked up the axe and resisted the urge to drive the sharp edge into the ground.
He looked up as Fiona came out across the yard looking like a teenager in her ragged Beatles T-shirt and torn jeans. “Find anything?” she asked as she neared him.
“Nothing. I hoped I could get some of the vine for evidence, but everything’s gone.”
Fiona took the art supplies from him. “That’s the problem with magic. Once the need for it has passed, it disappears.”
She closed her eyes. Jake said nothing as she stood still and breathed slowly in and out. He knew she was searching for any supernatural presence. As a medium, she would know if there were visitors from other realms. Maybe one of them could communicate to her about what happened to Brenna.
Her green eyes popped open and she took in a deep breath. “It’s blank.”
“What do you mean?” Jake asked.
“There’s nothing here, no spirits and no ghosts. Everything’s gone. Just like the day the Woman in White killed Garth, this darkness drove everything else away. That’s very strange. In Mourne County, there are always ghosts. But not right now. I wonder where they’ve all gone.”
From the porch, Eva Grace called to them and they walked over. “Brenna’s going to be all right,” she said. “We got her out of those ripped clothes and into a nightgown. Aunt Frances got out some pillowcases washed with a touch of peppermint that will help Brenna rest. Sarah cast a spell for deep sleep. Brenna will be achy for a few days, but that’s all.”
“What about all the bruising?” Jake asked.
“We’ve put on some compresses with St. John’s wort. We added arnica salve to absorb some of the blood. I hope that will help.”
Jaw clenched, Jake stared into the beautiful garden. Who would believe this peaceful place had sprouted such evil? How had it grown right under Frances’s watchful eye? Had it been waiting for Brenna or would any of the family had done just as well?
Whatever was chasing the Connellys was fierce, but that was too damn bad. He was a tiger and there were few foes that could defeat an animal as big and mean as he was. He was sure he could take down and destroy whatever was after Brenna.
“Don’t be thinking you can go after it,” Eva Grace told him.
“Don’t you take up that old song about this being a family matter.”
“I’m not saying that,” the redhead replied. “But it won’t do any good to go chasing off in the woods. We’re dealing with something ancient and powerful.”
Fiona agreed. “We’ve got to get into The Connelly Book of Magic and find out more about the other times the Woman in White has claimed one of our family. Maybe now that this has happened to Brenna, Sarah will see reason and release the book.”
“Maybe,” Eva Grace murmured. “Sarah’s very disturbed. I’ve never seen her like this. Almost powerless.”
The shocked look on Fiona’s face told Jake just how unnatural it was for the leader of their coven to be in such a state.
“There’s work to do here,” Eva Grace said after an uncomfortable silence. “Sarah, Frances and I will strengthen the protections around the house.”
“I’ll take the first shift with Brenna tonight,” Fiona said. “Someone should be with her until she wakes up.”
“No need,” Jake said. “I’m going to stay here tonight.”
Fiona protested, “Brenna will want one of us here.”
“I’m not leaving this house right after something like this happened. It’s not safe for Brenna, Frances or Lauren to be here alone.”
“But the magic—”
Eva Grace laid a hand on the younger woman’s arm. Her gaze was steady on Jake’s. “You think you can handle whatever comes calling?”
“I believe I can,” Jake said, surprised by the gruffness in his voice. He was
in deep with this complicated bunch of females. He had to stay here tonight. Even if they made him stay outside, he wasn’t walking away when evil had shown such angry force.
“I was drawn here,” he told Brenna’s sister and cousin. He explained about the strange cloud overhead, the nagging feeling he had to see Brenna, and the warning cry of the owl. “Perhaps there’s more than one kind of magic afoot here.”
“And magic should never be ignored,” Eva Grace said with an enigmatic smile. “Maybe you should be the one to stay tonight, Jake. The results might be surprising for us all.” She turned to Fiona. “Come with me and let’s strengthen the wards around the house.”
Chapter Nine
The antique grandfather clock in Frances’s living room struck midnight as Jake watched Brenna sleep.
Although he knew sitting at her bedside wasn’t necessary, this was where he felt most comfortable. He had written notes about all the events since Garth’s death. Working things out on paper always helped him, but as the clock’s last chime sounded, he felt only frustration.
At Frances’s insistence, he moved an ottoman and easy chair into the bedroom. The worn leather was soft and the chair’s size fit his long frame. Frances said it was her husband’s favorite chair. Jake found it a comfortable place to keep watch over the woman whose sleep appeared dreamless.
Frances checked on Brenna often. Lauren made delicious soup and cornbread for dinner, and both of them insisted he take a couple of breaks from his vigil. However, Jake was relieved when they went to bed.
He sighed as he looked back at the legal pad in his lap. None of what happened in the past week made any sense. Fiona was right. They needed fresh input on the Woman in White’s previous appearances in Mourne County. He made a note to look up the sheriff’s reports from when Eva Grace’s mother was taken by the Woman. Was the whole town in an uproar back then as well?