by Neely Powell
So what hope did Jake have of saving Brenna?
Not much. Not much at all.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Brenna restrained herself from throwing one of Cousin Inez’s journals across the bedroom.
After returning to Jake’s cabin from her encounter with the Williamses and Jake, she had called the home place to see how everyone was doing after the fire. Sarah and Marcus were still asleep, Eva Grace said, but all was calm now.
So Brenna fell into bed, exhausted, for a couple of fitful hours of sleep. Waking still tired and groggy, she made coffee, ate cereal and settled back into bed with the journals, history books and her notes from The Connelly Book of Magic. Somewhere in all of this, there had to be answers, but where?
Brenna blew out an exhausted breath as Tasmin leapt onto the bed. The cat had avoided her for most of the morning, miffed over being left behind and sealed inside with magic last night.
Tasmin meowed as she settled on her haunches and regarded Brenna.
“I told you I was sorry. It couldn’t be helped.” Brenna reached out to stroke the cat, hoping their strong magical connection might spark a new thought about her problems. Her last feline familiar had often helped her focus on a spell, summon the elements or work through a dilemma. Scientists claimed that stroking an animal slowed the heart rate, reduced blood pressure and lowered stress.
Both her witch and human sides could use some calming right now.
“Who can help us?” she asked the cat.
Tasmin rolled on her back, paws outstretched, begging for a belly rub.
Brenna complied and let her thoughts wander. Who in New Mourne might know something to aid the coven? Brenna began to consider other supernaturals in town.
The most numerous were the werewolves. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk to the pack leaders. The druid county commissioner and his family were more secretive than the fae, so they might even refuse to discuss the current troubles with her. They also hadn’t been in town more than a century, so they probably knew little about the Connelly curse.
The kitchen witch who ran the bakery had moved here in the last decade. Eva Grace had mentioned to Brenna a wizard who moved into the old farmhouse several miles up from Sarah’s, but he was reputed to be cold and indifferent, preferring not to mix with his neighbors.
The shifters were an unorganized group that included some kinfolk of Garth’s and loners like Jake. After discovering the peace and acceptance of New Mourne, they kept to themselves. She doubted they had anything to offer.
Among the humans, though, were those who married supers or coexisted with them for varying periods of time, some going back as far as the first group of settlers. There were farmers and owners of small businesses attracted to the county when Sarah opened the farm as a commune in the late 1960s. All would no doubt do what they could for the Connellys, but what could they do? Perhaps only be victimized further by the demon who had already affected them and their families.
Then there was The Enclave. The community built as an escape from Atlanta’s metropolitan sprawl would be eager to put a stop to anything that ruffled their existence, but most of them belonged in Fred Williams’ camp of ultra-conservatives. They were more likely to march onto the Connelly home place with pitchforks and burning torches, or their fully licensed automatic rifles, than come to the coven’s aid.
The secret, Brenna still believed, lay in knowing more about the Woman in White. She turned to the history book with the sketch of the missionary’s daughter who jumped to her death at Mulligan Falls. There was no doubt in Brenna’s mind that this was the Woman in White. Had she truly been in love with a Native American? Did she go mad? Was that why her spirit still roamed here? Why had powerful witches bowed to her will for so long?
Brenna went back to Inez’s journals. She finally located one that went into detail on some of the early Native Americans who lived in Mourne County. Inez had copied the “Ten Indian Commandments” in one of the books. Brenna was surprised how much those edicts matched the “Thirteen Goals Witches Strive to Achieve.”
The Indian Commandments said, “Treat the Earth and all that dwell thereon with respect.” The Witches’ Goals included, “Attune with the cycles of the earth.” Indians were encouraged to “remain close to the Great Spirit,” while witches were told to “honor the goddess and the god.”
“We’re so much alike,” Brenna said as Tasmin carefully cleaned a paw. “But I guess that’s what New Mourne is based on, isn’t it? It’s a place where people of different species, lifestyles, religions, beliefs—no matter what—are accepted and live in harmony. I guess Fred Williams and his group just missed that memo.”
The look Tasmin gave her mistress told Brenna that nothing in New Mourne was harmonious right now.
“All right, I agree with you, but I believe we do work toward that harmony.”
The cat placed her chin on her paws and shut her eyes.
Brenna closed the book and lay back on her pillows. She realized no matter how much she read or learned about the Woman in White, it still came down to one point. There would be more suffering for family and friends until a Connelly died. Seeing the workshop burn last night had solidified what must be done. Brenna knew, with great sadness, that she had to offer herself again, this time with no hesitation.
Tasmin lifted her head and looked toward the window. Her ears pricked forward, and then she streaked off the bed. Not two seconds later, Brenna heard Jake’s vehicle in the driveway.
Brenna sat up, wondering if it would be awkward between them now.
In a few moments, Jake entered the bedroom. He stood in the doorway and looked at her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, feeling uncomfortable. “Sure.”
“That’s good.”
“How are things in town?”
“Disturbing.”
“Did something else happen?” Brenna asked, concerned. What if her attempt to sacrifice herself last night had stirred up trouble again?
“Downtown is jammed with people,” he explained. “Every room in the inn is filled and we’ve got day trippers galore in all the shops.”
“Did you see someone suspicious?”
“No, but I feel like we’re in a cauldron. There’s something simmering. Literally about to boil. It’s weird how hot it is. I’ve lived here for three years and the summer is always humid and uncomfortable, but not like now. It feels like the desert did when I was in service. Dry heat—”
“Like a furnace blast,” Brenna completed for him.
“Yeah.” He met her gaze, and then looked away. An uncomfortable silence settled as they avoided the big questions looming between them.
So Brenna asked, “Do you want me to leave, Jake?”
He hesitated, clearly torn. Then he nodded. “It would be for the best, I think. Don’t you?”
Brenna didn’t know what the best was, but this was Jake’s home and she wasn’t about to be here if he didn’t want her.
She got up from the bed. “I need to get few things together, then Tasmin and I will leave. After what happened last night to the workshop, I should be with the family. We have to get ready if we’re going to cast this spell tomorrow night.”
Jake started to say something, and then reconsidered. “I’ll be out back,” he told Brenna, but he stopped in the doorway and turned to her. “I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about you, Brenna.”
“I feel that way about you, too.”
He seemed surprised at her admission.
She managed a tremulous smile. “I know. We were just going to be friends with benefits, but that’s not working out too well. Not for you either, I think. I always thought when I fell in love it would be after I knew I was safe from the Woman in White. I thought it might be good thing. From your evident misery, you’re not too pleased by these feeling, either.”
“I never intended to love anyone.” Jake leaned against the doorframe. “After what happened to my parents, can you blame me?”<
br />
She brushed that away, knowing her reassurances would fall on deaf ears. “And I’ve got other priorities right now.”
“You’re going to do something I won’t like, aren’t you?”
“If you want me to lie, I will.” Tears gathered and slid down her cheeks.
Jake stepped back into the room and reached out brush her tears away. “You shouldn’t have to die. None of you should have to die. There has to be a way out of this.”
Brenna shook her head. “I’ve believed that, too, until now. At this point, we can only keep trying, but I’m not optimistic about winning.” She stroked his cheek. “If it’s me that’s taken, you won’t hurt for long, Jake. The coven will make it better for you.”
“No, they won’t.” He pulled her close again, pressing his face against her neck, his voice choked with emotion. “Even magic couldn’t make me forget you. Not ever.”
He left then, and she heard his cruiser start up in the drive.
The stillness of the summer afternoon settled around Brenna as she gathered the few clothes she had brought with her. Despite everything, she didn’t want to leave. She felt at home here. She understood now that running to Atlanta, the lack of focus in her career and her desertion of the coven were all excuses she used to avoid thoughts of the future.
She always wondered how Eva Grace and Maggie had moved on to making future plans with the curse to deal with. Maggie even had a child, a female child, knowing what the future might hold for her. Eva Grace made wedding plans. Loving Garth gave her hope, but hope wasn’t evident in Brenna’s life. Maybe it was all those years of hoping her parents would come home only to be disappointed.
Now she had a glimmer of understanding. She closed her eyes, imagining being with Jake five years from now, with children ten years from now, growing old together. She couldn’t form the pictures. They just wouldn’t come because Brenna couldn’t see a future for herself. The present kept invading it.
She couldn’t see past offering herself to the Woman in White. No matter what Jake said, she knew what her duty was—to her family, her coven, herself.
Duty called and she must answer. Now, since she had so much to lose, maybe the Woman would oblige her and take it all away.
Chapter Thirty
Sweating in the fierce heat of the late afternoon, Jake strolled down Main Street. Rather than stay at the house while Brenna moved out, he went into town.
Main Street was as crowded as earlier in the day. A line waited outside Mary’s Diner. The bakery was closed and had a “Sold out of bread” sign affixed to its front door, but other shops were still open and humming with business. The local snow cone vendor dispensed icy treats as fast as he could make them.
And no wonder, Jake thought as he glared overhead. The sun had bleached the color from the sky. Every flower and leaf within sight drooped. Nothing stirred except cars and people on the sidewalks.
There was no sign of trouble, however, as Jake turned a corner and headed to the back entrance of the courthouse. A man stood on the porch outside the sheriff’s department. Legs planted apart, and hands opening and closing at his sides, he stared in Jake’s direction.
Jake’s hand moved toward his gun, though he didn’t touch it.
“There ain’t enough room in this town for both of us,” the man said with an exaggerated Southern accent. “We’re gonna have to shoot it out, sheriff.”
“I’d be willing to do that, Dr. McGuire,” Jake replied, “but I have hunted with you before, and I know you couldn’t hit a pig in a barrel. That puts me at a distinct advantage.”
“Well, hell,” the man said and walked toward Jake. “Let’s hug instead.”
The rusty-haired man in rumpled khakis, white shirt and a navy blue blazer had Jake in a strong bear hug when the door to office opened and Gladys stepped out. “Everything okay out here, Jake?” Her eyes were wide as she took in Rodric McGuire, Ph.D. and supernatural investigator from Edinburgh, Scotland.
Jake noted with amusement that his trusty dispatcher was carrying a baseball bat. He also knew she would have used it. He quickly introduced her to Rodric.
His friend’s Scottish accent was evident as he greeted the older woman. “So happy to meet you. I’m an old friend of Jake and Garth’s.”
Jake could see Gladys was as susceptible to Rodric as most females. Jake never quite understood the man’s charm. He had a wiry build and was almost as tall as Jake, a bookish sort with his tortoise-shell glasses and an absent-minded air, but when he frequented bars with Jake and Garth, it was Rodric who never went home alone.
“What brings you to New Mourne, Dr. McGuire?” Gladys asked.
“Studies of the paranormal, my dear. I hear you’ve had some interesting things going on, and I can’t wait to start my own investigation.”
Gladys’s smile dimmed. “You may find more than you want to.”
Jake turned to her in concern. “Has something happened?”
“No, but there will be.” Gladys glared at the sky in the much the same way Jake had just moments ago. “I can feel it.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be off tonight?” Jake said to her. She had been pulling double shifts most days since Garth’s death.
“I need to stay,” Gladys said. She nodded to Rodric again. “I hope you have some good luck with your studies, but I also hope we don’t live up to your expectations.” She went back into the office.
Rodric chuckled. “She’s just as you and Garth described her to be.” His expression turned serious as he looked at Jake. “Now tell me what’s happening. I tried to get here sooner, but I had quite a battle with a stubborn ghost in a tavern. Patrons were being driven away in droves and I had to help the poor family save their business.”
“It was quiet here until last night,” Jake said and told Rodric about the fire that sprouted from the ground.
Rodric’s gaze sharpened when Jake explained that the Woman in White and demon had refused Brenna’s sacrifice. “Interesting that there is a spirit and a demon at work. Are they working together?”
“We assume so.”
“You should know yourself never to make assumptions about the paranormal.” His friend glanced toward Main Street. “It’s a charming town, but even I can tell there’s something wicked in the wind.”
“What wind?” Jake asked. The words were no sooner out of his mouth than a gust of super-heated air chased down the street.
“Very interesting.” Rodric studied the dying leaves and debris that danced at their feet in the breeze.
Where earlier the sky had been so bright it hurt Jake’s eyes, a film now lay over the town. He hoped the heat wave was breaking, but he didn’t think it was that innocent or simple.
“I told Brenna’s parents you were coming,” he told Rodric. “You want to go meet them?”
“Lead the way.”
Although he dreaded seeing Brenna, Jake knew that the entire family was gathering at the home place. Doris was coming home from the hospital, and despite the fire last night, the family still planned a welcome home party and celebration for the Summer Solstice. In addition to introducing Rodric to the Burns, Jake wanted to check on everything. The fire on Connelly land signaled a shift in action.
As they drove out of town, Rodric pointed toward the clouds that were lowering over the mountains. “The sun may leave us early.” The sky was a strange color, a bilious green that Jake mistrusted.
“I’m very anxious to meet your Connelly women,” Rodric continued. “It’s incredible that Eva Grace is both a witch and an empath, and that Fiona is also a medium. I’ve watched some of her webcasts. She has an amazing ability.”
“That has been inactive for the last four days. She’s heard almost nothing from the town’s spirits since the incident at Siren’s Call.”
Now Rodric looked worried. “That kind of silence is most unusual.”
“It’s extremely rare around here,” Jake said, peering anxiously at the sky as they approached the turn-off to t
he Connelly’s. “It looks like it could storm any minute, but I’m not hearing any thunder.”
Lightning was playing over the peaks of the mountains. Bear Mountain and Big Frog were lit up in turn. Towering over them all at almost forty-seven hundred feet was Rabun Bald. According to Native American legend, Rabun was home to a fire-breathing dragon. The continuous stream of lightning gave credence to the name as the clouds glowed red, then yellow over the tall peaks.
“Quite a welcome you’ve rolled out for me,” Rodric commented as they pulled to a stop behind the collection of Connelly cars.
Everyone was present for Doris and the Summer Solstice, including husbands and children. As they made their way across the broad front porch, Jake could see Rodric’s eyes begin to glaze as he met the assorted cousins and uncles.
As usual, the Connelly witches were moving from the kitchen to the dining room, loading the sideboard and two other small tables with food. The table was set for the coven, with Doris already seated. The injured witch looked pale but strong, Jake thought as he greeted her and introduced Rodric. She was at last able to talk, albeit in a husky whisper. He didn’t see Brenna, but spotted Dr. Burns immediately.
Jake introduced Rodric and the three of them drifted to a corner away from the traffic between kitchen and dining room.
A moment later Lauren sidled up to Rodric and held out a tall, frosted glass. “Have some peach tea.” Her green-eyed gaze was avid with interest.
“Umm. Peach?” Rodric took the glass and studied it as if it was evidence of an ancient haunting.
“I think he would prefer a cup of hot tea,” Jake said.
“Sugar and lemon, if it’s no bother,” Rodric added.
Lauren’s emerald eyes flashed as she flipped back her hair. “I’ll get that for you, Dr. McGuire. I’d be happy to help you with that or anything else.”
“Call me Rodric, and you’re most kind, Lauren. You live up to everything I’ve heard about Southern women.”