The strap snapped, and I gasped in horror.
“No!” I exclaimed, surging forward to refasten it around his neck. “Don’t you dare, Micah. Don’t you dare take that risk.”
His hand burned bright as a yellow glow started emanating from his palm. “I won’t lose you. Not like this.” And without any warning, he pressed his hand firmly over my forehead, his fingers gripping my temples. “I’m sorry, Sedona.”
Then he blasted me with a shot of angel grace—his healing touch sweeping into my body, purifying me as it flowed. All the while I murmured how much I needed him to stop. He couldn’t jeopardize Holly’s safety by putting my needs above hers. It wasn’t about being a martyr or wanting to die.
I just couldn’t stand the idea of something happening to my sweet young friend.
The fear of the consequences should the worst truly happen felt overwhelming. Micah would never forgive himself. I would never forgive myself for my role in it. It would sit between us—the large, angry, painful wound that would destroy whatever relationship remained.
I couldn’t live with that.
With what little strength remained, I pried Micah’s fingers back and shoved him away. At least that was what I’d planned on doing if something else hadn’t moved him for me.
He yelled in surprise as he slammed backward, a few feet away.
“Micah?” Aunt Millicent called out to him and wore the same grim expression he did. “What happened?”
There was a muffled groan from his direction.
My aunt doubled her efforts in trying to end my suffering.
I began to writhe. Without Micah’s help, I was left open and vulnerable to the continued attack.
And then, just like that, it was over. If it hadn’t been for the way my muscles throbbed and ached, the pulsing tempo in my head, and the slick coating of sweat over my skin, I’d have thought I’d imagined the past ten minutes.
Micah came to with a start. I didn’t know who was more confused—him for waking up and being across the room, or me and the new wave of blissful relief that took over my body.
“You okay?” I croaked, desperately trying to wet my lips.
“Yes, you?” It didn’t take him long to return back to his normal self. When he gingerly went to lift me so he could hold me, I stunned him further.
“I don’t hurt anymore,” I whispered. There was a niggly fear that if I said that any louder, it would jinx whatever blessing I was enjoying. I was scared that the mayhem would return.
My aunt studied me closely, pushing her glasses back toward her face. There was no mistaking her look of skepticism. Unlike her, however, I didn’t want to look the gift horse in the mouth.
“We should still try to figure out what happened, Sedona,” she said, staring down at her hands. “I can’t take credit for your respite. We can’t guarantee that the pain won’t return.”
I closed my eyes in denial, hoping I could ignore her logic. I was tired—exhausted from the relentless battering I’d just withstood. I was emotional from being so raw. All I wanted to do was go home and climb into bed with my boyfriend and forget this ever happened.
“I agree.” That was the last thing I’d expected Micah to say. Apparently, Aunt Millicent felt the same. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m only saying that I’m not comfortable with celebrating just yet. We still need answers.”
His explanation was meant to keep her from acting pious and smug.
“I will need to inform the coven. We should be able to uncover the cause with their aid.” Once again, her response was to take over and place her faith in those who watched over Havenwood Falls.
I didn’t have that kind of loyalty. “No, I don’t want to involve them.”
She scolded me. Like honest to goodness, shook her finger at me. “It’s not up to you, Sedona. They’re better equipped to handle something like this.”
I tuned her out and turned to Micah instead. “Take me into my grandfather’s study.”
An idea had floated its way to the surface of my mind. Like the inspiration had been heaven sent from him, a memory tickled at my senses.
Micah didn’t argue with me, something I was incredibly grateful for. As he gathered me up in his arms, not letting me stand on my own, I motioned for him to stop for a moment. “Here’s the deal, Millicent. You can either come with me into the study and do our best to figure out what the hell you did so we can fix it—”
“Or?” There was a touch of defiance in the way she held my gaze.
“Or you can leave. Not to bring the coven back here. Simply leave. If you choose not to be part of the solution, you become part of the problem. I’m done fighting with you. I don’t have the energy anymore to battle with you over the dumbest things. So decide.” I nodded to Micah. “Let’s go.”
I didn’t wait to see if she’d get up and follow. In my heart of hearts, I’d already dismissed her because my aunt was nothing if not consistent. Her loyalty to me as her niece would be once again pushed to the side. The truth that always lay between us was that she felt more loyalty to her own deluded sense of importance than me.
For as long as I could remember, she’d used her connections with the Court and coven to badger and belittle me over my life choices. Whenever I chose not to follow in my aunt’s footsteps and show her the exaggerated respect she believed she deserved, it had been one judgmental comment after another.
I was never good enough.
I would always be a failure in her eyes—ignoring my supposed family legacy within the coven by neglecting my gifts.
I was only now ready to accept the fact that there would be no pleasing her—ever.
Once inside the study, the enormity of what had just occurred sent convulsions through me. Hot tears streaked down and over my cheeks. Sorrow and grief burst outward in the form of loud sobs. After trying so hard to keep it together and prove to myself—to others—that I could overcome whatever life threw my way, there was no more pretending.
I didn’t hold it back or push it down so I could ignore it.
I cried for myself.
I cried for my grandfather who had left a hole in my heart when he died.
I cried for Micah and Holly—the life they’d been forced to live in order to survive.
I cried for Austin, who had been banished from town already, his memories stripped.
And I cried for my aunt, the one person who couldn’t figure out that true power, lasting power, was found in the bonds you created with others. Family. Friends. Not merely connections with those who held the coveted influence and authority.
Micah continued to hold me, rocking me gently as his hand rubbed my lower back.
In the quiet minutes that followed, his tender touch was enough.
The time had come.
I could already feel the heated sensation building inside me again. Aunt Millicent’s spell had been removed for a solid hour, and we’d hoped that with it, all the craziness would be gone. But something had pushed back. Another spell. Something.
My body screamed in protest as I moved, my muscles wanting to hold on to the peaceful respite Micah’s arms had provided. He hadn’t left my side the whole time. I hated knowing that he was worried, because he already had so much to focus on. The sooner things went back to normal, the better.
“Rest some more.” Micah’s deep voice filled the study.
He reluctantly released me from his embrace, and I slowly stood up and stretched.
“It’s stirring again, so I need to find out what it is now.” Helping him stand, I let out a lengthy breath. I knew the ritual needed. The inspiration had come earlier while I was resting, and it would be a doozy. I didn’t even know if I held enough magic to perform it. It was usually a spell that called for two or more witches.
“Okay, how can I help, then?” He left my side to go look at one of the six bookshelves that filled the room. It wasn’t just the love of Shelf Indulgence that I inherited from my grandfather. I’d also shared his deep
passion for the written word. He’d spent his life accumulating these powerful tomes filled with our family’s history, and kept the family’s book of shadows. That was the volume I looked for now.
“There’s nothing much you can do,” I admitted, flipping through the book Micah had handed me until I found the incantation. A few summers ago, my grandfather and I had been talking about some of his experiences growing up. He’d mentioned a spell he’d been part of that helped the coven find out the truth in a bitter argument between two coven members. It was this spell that I was now trying to read and understand. “Usually this is done with more than one witch. One person says the words and uses the others to help channel as much power as possible.”
We were at a disadvantage, and he knew it. “Will having an angel with you help?”
It was the question I’d dreaded. “If you weren’t currently hiding from some big bad and protecting an adorable teenager, I’d totally suggest we give it a try.” I winked at him with the hopes it softened my sarcasm. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
“Then tell me what will happen if you don’t have enough juice to fuel this spell.”
My mouth went dry. I didn’t want to answer him with the truth, because then he would fight for me to abandon the plan.
“She doesn’t need to worry about that. She has me.”
Speak of the Devil, and she comes.
“I was serious before,” I countered, not wanting her involvement if it meant she couldn’t let go of her unrealistic expectations. “I don’t need or want your help if it comes with conditions.”
Aunt Millicent lifted her hands in surrender. “You can’t do that spell alone. It’ll kill you.”
Micah’s nostrils flared in surprise. “Sedona? Is she right?”
I felt the pressure to answer like a ten-ton weight pressing against my chest. “Well . . .” He wasn’t impressed at all by my nonchalant shrug.
“No,” Micah thundered, flashing me a glare filled with the power he held as an angel. “Absolutely not. I’m not going to let you risk yourself that way.”
“You’re not going to let me?” I threw back, just as forceful. “Last time I checked, Micah Westbrook, I didn’t need your permission for anything.” I stood with my hands on my hips, glowering.
“You know that’s not what I meant, sweetheart.” Gone was his anger. “You told me we were in this together, so let’s stick with that plan. There has to be something else.”
Aunt Millicent had remained uncharacteristically quiet up until now. As she turned through the pages of our family’s book of shadows, I could sense a longing I’d never felt from her before. I would almost call it homesickness. Before I could see where the emotional tether would lead, she spoke up.
“I’ll ensure she’s protected, Mr. Westbrook.” She turned to me with a look of determination. “I’ll get the supplies needed. You need to ground yourself before you start.” Then she walked about in search of the candles, crystals, and herbs needed.
Micah watched her go and then grabbed me by the arm. “Explain it to me. The ritual. Tell me what it involves.” He didn’t trust my aunt either.
“It’s simple enough,” I started, hoping to minimize his concern. “It requires me to untether myself from this reality and in spirit form, conjure up what I’m asking to see. I want to see why I’ve been feeling so strange and whether it’s a byproduct of my aunt’s interference.”
I heard her grunt quietly. I still didn’t know how I felt about her using her magic against me.
“And why do you need others to help, if it’s that simple?”
“Because magic always comes with a price, and if I’m found unworthy, then my abilities might not be enough to bring me back.” I grabbed his hands and squeezed them reassuringly. “I don’t know any other way that can give me the answers I need so quickly.”
Aunt Millicent chimed in. “Go before the coven and ask for their help.” She’d placed the last of the white candle pillars at a point in the pentagram that was permanently etched into the study’s wooden floor. “Put aside your pride and insecurities, Sedona. I can even come with you if need.”
Micah went still as he thought. “I don’t trust you.” His sole focus was now on my aunt. “If you use this in any way to hurt her, I will destroy you.”
She had the common sense to look shocked by his blatant threat. “You don’t scare me, Mr. Westbrook.”
“I don’t care. Are we understood?” Micah would never back down. He looked every inch the avenging angel right now as he stared her down. “You protect her like the aunt you should be and we won’t have an issue.”
There was a tiny nod from her. “You have my word.”
My chest was starting to hurt, and it made me audibly gasp. If I didn’t get to chanting, the next wave of pain would hit. I was done feeling like crap.
“Stop. I’m ready to begin. Micah—” I gave him a quick hug, kissing his cheek. “I need you to guard the door just in case someone decides to interrupt.” I waved my hand through the air, and the flames from all the candles in the room burst to life. “Aunt Millicent, I need you to join me in the pentagram.”
We both sat inside, our legs crossed, and I held my hands out for her to hold. I stared hard into her eyes, drawing on my empathic gifts to see if there was any kind of ulterior motive behind her willingness to help.
Nothing. She was being honest. Knowing this made it a little easier to relax.
“You know what to do, right?” I asked, needing to make sure we were both on the same page. A lot could go horribly wrong with this spell. “Don’t break the connection between us once I start. You’re going to feel that sharp tug on your magic. Don’t resist it.”
She actually snorted at me. “I know the incantation, Sedona. I’ve been doing circle magic and rituals long enough, I could perform them flawlessly in my sleep.” When she realized how snarky her reply sounded, she smiled to soften it. “Sorry, old habits die hard.” Gripping my hands tighter, Aunt Millicent nodded. “I’m ready.”
Words began to spill from my lips. Summoning the elements to bless the spell came next, and I took comfort as I felt each one present itself to my circle. I called on my ancestors, my grandfather in particular, to give aid to my request. When I felt the familiar energy of my mother, tears formed in my eyes.
It was now or never.
Electricity sparked in the air above us and like a portal from another world, a glowing oval appeared above me. The more I chanted, the bigger it became, until it resembled the television screen I had back home. It kept growing the more power I fed the spell.
“It’s working,” I whispered, so the others would know. “All that’s left is to ask.”
The two-verse incantation lay before me as I quickly read from the page. When I finished, a mighty blast passed through the room, and for a tiny second, I was worried my aunt would let go of my hands.
“I’ve got you,” she countered through clenched teeth. Sweat formed at her brow before trickling down the side of her face. Strain filled her features. The price was already being exacted for my request.
My own body was under attack as the pain came rushing back. What started as a whimper became an unbearable moan, my body trembling to maintain control of the magic.
“Sedona,” Micah called out, checking to see if I was okay. Before he could take a step toward me, I told him to stop. It was too late to go back now.
“Show me,” I asked, tilting my head back to the ceiling. “Show me the cause for the pain that racks my body.”
Time slowed down, and a hush descended upon us. At first, I couldn’t make anything out from the vision that was forming within the cloud above me, but then it became crystal clear.
I instantly recognized the scene of me and Micah walking along the street together. I remembered the moment, the discussion we’d been having. It wasn’t until something caught my eye after bumping into someone that I grew excited.
“There. Did you see that?” Without letting g
o, I leaned closer to my aunt. “That person. It’s not a spell.”
“No, it isn’t,” she whispered back, stunned.
“Is that . . . ?” Even Micah was dumbfounded.
It hadn’t been my aunt’s spell backfiring.
The stranger I’d passed in the street was responsible for the hell and agony I’d been through.
That, and the magical marking they placed on me.
I’d been tagged with something powerful.
I was in deep trouble if I didn’t figure out how to remove it.
Immediately.
Chapter 13
“Get it off her,” Micah demanded, his anger aimed toward my aunt. Even though the spell had revealed the person had transferred their own branding spell separately from her interference, he was holding her responsible for the attack.
If looks could kill, she’d be six feet under already.
“While I appreciate your anger,” she fired back, her eyes never straying from me, “I need to concentrate on helping my niece.” Hearing her support tugged at my conscience. Perhaps our relationship could be redeemed. “Focus, Sedona. How are you feeling?”
I tested my energy reserves and nodded. “I’m good. Why?” I was out of my depth now.
“Because I’m going to help you get rid of the mark without it killing you.”
It was a night of constant shocks. My by-the-book, rule-loving aunt was suggesting we bypass seeking the counsel of her beloved coven. It was enough to make me look at her differently.
She’d begun turning me about, looking for the physical evidence that I’d been tagged. “You’re going to need to take your shirt off. It’ll be small . . . perhaps something you’d glance over or not even see.” Her fingers roamed roughly over my skin—not because she wanted to hurt me, but because time was of the essence. “Help me, Micah.”
The shocks kept coming.
“I don’t know what to do,” I confessed, bracing myself for the lecture that usually followed after such admissions.
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