Dark Witch, Blood Witch
Page 7
Donovan’s brows knit together. “What meeting place?”
“You know, where your dad holds his weekly meetings.” I grab my notebook, flip it open, then show him my note. “Macey gave me the address.”
His face falls. “I don’t know where that is. I didn’t know people met outside the pool house on our property.”
Poor Donovan. I want to believe him. He seems genuine, but I struggle with trusting him. Could he be leading me into a trap at his house? In addition to not harming me, I didn’t tell him not to betray me, either.
“Do you think your dad’s office is better? Is it at your house?”
“I guess I’m not the person to ask. Let’s just go with your plan. The more we talk about these things, the more I wonder if I ever really knew my father. I just need to find the truth. Let’s go to this meeting place.” Donovan stands and offers me a hand, but I wave him off.
Contact right now is a bad idea. I’m not sure my heart can handle it.
I start toward my truck, but Donovan stops me. “We should take my SUV. Your truck will stand out in my dad’s circle. My SUV won’t.”
His suggestion makes sense, but do I want to give over that much control? I’ve already agreed to this, though, so I nod. “You’re probably right. Let’s take yours.”
I lead the way into the forest, heading for the cave where I trapped Macey. She better not still be there when we arrive. It will just complicate things at this point.
“Do you remember where you parked? I can get us to the cave, but I don’t know where you came from.” I duck under a branch, barely holding it up, and almost release it in Donovan’s face. “Sorry,” I say as I catch the branch before it hits him. “I’m not used to being out here with others.”
“I parked on some old logging road. It was on the other side of the cave.”
“I know where that is.”
We continue in silence for a few more minutes, taking the path of least resistance since Donovan isn’t used to the forest. I point out dangerous rocks where I can, but he does surprisingly well without much instruction from me.
“Can I ask you something?” Donavan asks, breaking the silence.
“Sure. I won’t guarantee that I’ll answer, though.”
“How did you end up out here?” The path widens some, and Donovan steps next to me as he asks, “This seems like an odd place for a witch to find, and you have a lot more stuff than I would have expected for being on the run.”
“That’s a long story, but we have time. It begins a year before my family died. When Macey was still with our coven.”
As we walk, I fill him in on how I first met Macey, then how I lived out here for the last two years.
9
Nerves tighten my muscles as we follow the GPS in Donovan’s SUV, heading out onto the highway that circles Manberry. The sun shines down on us, still in the process of reaching its peak for the day. Brunch time is a weird time to infiltrate the lair of a dark coven, but maybe, that will be in our favor.
“Are you sure this thing is right?” I resist the urge to tap at the large display screen. “Macey said it was still part of the town.”
“It’s programmed to take the fastest route.” Without taking his eyes off the road, he pans out to show a broader overview of the map. “See? It brings us back in on the west side.” He frowns briefly. “It’s pretty far from our house.”
“All the better to hide secret meetings from the rest of the coven.” I settle back against the door, body turned and one knee drawn up onto the seat so I face him. “He holds other meetings in your pool house.”
The corner of his lips quirks up. “I feel you judging me.”
“You didn’t mention you had a pool.” I study his profile. “Must have made you popular at school.”
He shakes his head. “Dad didn’t like to have people over. The whole witch secret and all.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I glance out the windshield. “We only ever had witches at the house. But we had a fruit stand near the edge of the property. It’s where I first saw Macey meeting up with Trevor.”
He turns to stare at me. “Three years ago?”
I nod. “Eyes back on the road, please.”
“It’s not like anyone else is out here at this time of day.” But he returns his eyes to the road. “Trevor didn’t join our coven until right before Macey did.”
“Really?” Now, it’s my turn to frown. I was so sure that was his ring I saw flash outside the car window. “He wasn’t Macey’s contact?”
Donovan shakes his head. “Macey showed up two and a half years ago with some story about being kicked out of her coven for being misunderstood.”
“Her coven sent her to us to meditate the darkness out of her. We sent her back.” I look out the window once more. “I kind of thought Hattie killed her en route.”
“Hattie sounds vicious.”
“She was a no-nonsense kind of person,” I say fondly. “She came from a gray coven, and that’s what she was training me in before she died.”
“Not dark?” He flicks a glance at me. “What you did at the cave to Macey...”
“Was the only way to show her I was serious.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Macey doesn’t respect kindness, she respects those she’s afraid of.”
“So, you never intended to follow through with those fire runes on the cave walls,” he says, relief in his voice.
“Oh, I would have followed through.” I snort. “Hell, I practically cooked her before she started talking.”
His hands tighten on the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. “You can’t do that again, Sabine. It’s not right.”
“I’ll do what I have to, no matter what.” I gesture at myself. “This is the real me. I’m not soft and full of sunshine like you seem to think.”
“You are,” he counters. “At least, some part of you has to be. The last two years can’t have all been fake.”
“I buried Evaine when I resolved to continue forward with my plan for revenge. She’s gone now, so mourn her and move on.”
He shakes his head, his jaw set in a stubborn line. “I refuse to believe that. The girl I love is still in there, and I won’t give up.”
An ache opens in my chest, but I ruthlessly squash it. “She’s not, Donovan, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner we can both move on.”
Tense silence fills the rest of the drive as Donovan turns off the highway and drives back toward town.
Before we reach the city limits, the GPS tells him to turn onto a long, gravel road that twists and turns, drawing us ever closer to Manberry.
At last, the trees break, and a cabin comes into view. It looks like a place hunters stay, with an outhouse just peeking around from the back.
Donovan parks near the front door and cuts the engine. “Huh, it doesn’t look like much.”
I have to agree, and I double-check the address I put in against what Macey told me. They match, but this still doesn’t feel like the lair of evil I expected. “Maybe it’s just the entryway, and there’s more underground?”
“Maybe,” Donovan agrees, but he sounds doubtful.
I can just see him getting his hopes up that I was wrong, and his father isn’t a murdering monster.
“Even if we don’t find anything here, that doesn’t mean we stop looking,” I remind him as I shove open my door and hop out.
The memories of all the other times I did this, when Donovan was there to catch me, flood my mind and fill me with a sense of loss for the man who still stands next to me. If I could go back in time, I’d freeze those moments and never leave. Life was hard then, but bearable because I still had my blinders on about how much worse things could get. I want to be blind again and happy with a yearning that physically hurts.
A gentle hand cups my cheek. “Evaine?”
I flinch and smack his hand away. “What are you playing at?”
He shakes his head in bewilderment. “I don’t know what you mean.”
A shake of my head dispels that line of thought. Even if he manipulated me when we were together, the effects wouldn’t have lasted during the long months when we only spoke on the phone or through text message. My feelings were my own, but that doesn’t mean he’s not manipulating me now that I’ve uncovered his lies.
“Let’s go.” I step around him and stride for the door to the cabin. “We don’t know what kind of wards we may have tripped coming here.”
The sound of my car door closing comes from behind me, followed by the crunch of footsteps. “I didn’t feel any.”
I didn’t, either, which bothers me. If this place is as important as Macey led me to believe, protections should surround it to discourage the casual passerby.
I hesitate when I reach the door, step to the side, and motion at the handle. “Open it.”
“You’re worried it’s a trap?” He gives me a look filled with sadness. “It’s that easy to make me the guinea pig in this?”
“Either you believe your dad is innocent, or you don’t.” I gesture again. “Open the door.”
“Macey could have led us to a trap, you know. It’s not all about my dad.” He reaches for the door, and my breath catches in my lungs, the urge to yank him back almost overwhelming.
But I resist the desire to protect him, and the knob turns easily under his hand, not even locked.
Donovan pushes the door inward and peers inside. “I’m assuming I should go first, too?”
I stuff my hands into my pockets. “You already know the answer.”
Donovan takes an unsteady breath before he steps through the opening. When nothing happens, he continues forward a few paces before he turns back. “No wards.”
No wards? Or just wards keyed to accept someone of his bloodline.
My pulse races as I step forward, expecting an attack that doesn’t come. As far as my witch senses can tell, this place is completely devoid of magic.
Frowning, I look around the space. It’s a single room with a cot against one wall and a table against the other. A lidded bucket sits in the corner with a roll of toilet paper on top. The only light comes from the windows, and a lantern on the table tells the story of no electricity. Anyone out here would be completely off the grid.
Donovan turns in a slow circle. “There’s nothing here. And I refuse to check the bucket for a hidden lair.”
Determined not to give up at face value, I pace around the space, stomping my feet to check for places where the floor could be hollow. I even pull the cot and table away from the walls to search for hidden trap doors. And, yes, I check the bucket, too, which I find empty and clean.
When none of that offers up a secret meeting place, I start at one wall and step heel-to-toe across the room, counting how many steps it takes to cross the space, then head back outside to do the same. The difference that comes up is enough to account for the thickness of the logs but not enough for a hidden passageway.
When I tip my head back to stare up at the roof, Donovan laughs. “You can’t be serious.”
No, I don’t think a secret meeting place could be hidden up there, but maybe a higher vantage point could provide a clue we can’t see from down here?
Donovan sighs and kneels, making a cup of his hands. “Here, I’ll boost you up.”
I consider rejecting the offer, but I’m not sure I can make it up on my own. Still, I hesitate before I hold out my hand. “Give me your car keys.”
He reaches into his pocket and passes them over without question.
With them safely secured, I place my foot into the step he created from his hands and grasp his shoulders for balance. He stands, thrusting upward, and I release my hold on him to grasp the edge of the roof, then hoist myself up. Thank goodness for all that time I spent in the woods hauling buckets of water around at Hattie’s command.
Up on the roof, I carefully scramble to the peak and turn slowly to take in the rest of the clearing and the surrounding woods. But if there’s a trap door somewhere in the dirt and grass, I don’t see it.
Aside from the cabin and the outhouse, there’s nothing here.
I slide back to the edge of the roof, grip it, and swing my body over.
Donovan’s warm hands close around my thighs, sliding up to my waist as I release the roof, before he sets me on the ground. A shiver rolls through me, and his hands linger with the familiarity of our years together.
Instinctively, I sway backward before my muscles tense, and I step out of his hold. It’s too easy to fall into old habits with him, and the fact I have to keep reminding myself he’s the enemy now irritates me.
He touches my arm to keep me from going far. “We can search the clearing one square foot at a time if that will prove to you there’s nothing to find, but I think Macey played a trick, sending us out here.”
About to nod, the sound of tires on gravel sounds from down the road, and I stiffen. “Someone’s coming.”
Donovan spins toward the access road and steps in front of me just as a Jeep comes into view and stops, blocking our only way out of here by car.
“Looks like a park ranger,” he murmurs.
“How would he know we were here?” I demand, suddenly wondering if Donovan’s SUV has a tracker on it.
It was stupid to take his car and not mine. His worry about fitting in out here proved unnecessary, anyway. But if his dad realized he’s missing or if Macey somehow managed to contact him despite the spell she’s under...
I connect to the gold cuff that rests against my skin. It can’t reach the mountain from here, but it heightens my magic all on its own. If this is a trap, I’ll take everyone down with me.
The Jeep’s driver-side door pops open, and a man in a brown forest ranger uniform steps out.
“You kids lost?” he calls as he strides toward us. “This is private property.”
“My girlfriend and I heard about a haunted cabin,” Donovan calls back, his voice sheepish as he ducks his head. “We were just looking for a little excitement. We didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Is that so?” He stops with a few feet between us. “Why don’t you step into view, sweetie?”
Donovan stiffens, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, but he doesn’t try to stop me as I step out from behind him.
“Well, aren’t you a tiny thing?” The man steps closer, his eyes skimming over me and lingering on my hair. “You like ghost stories, sweetie?”
“Only when it’s light out.” I duck my head, trying to look bashful as my eyes drop to his belt.
We have bears and other dangerous animals in our woods, but he only carries a little handgun. No radio or bear spray.
No matter what his uniform says, he’s not a forest ranger.
“What’s your name?” he asks as he continues forward.
He directs the question at me, but Donovan answers. “Donovan Crawford. My dad’s Gregory Crawford. Maybe you’ve heard of him? He’s developed a lot of the land around here.”
His next step hesitates for a fraction of a second before he says, “No, can’t say it rings a bell. Why don’t I escort you two back to the main road?”
Heart pounding, I lunge forward, the spell forming in my mind as my hand darts out.
He side steps, his arm sweeping to the side to knock mine away, and I stumble. My success with Macey made me too confident, but I don’t stop. It’s too late for that; I already showed my hand.
I turn and try again, hand darting for his face, and he turns with me, his fingers crooked and magic suddenly crackling in his palm. I stare at it, momentarily shocked. I didn’t know that was even possible.
His hand shoots out, black and purple energy arching to
ward me, and I drop to the ground, rolling away. The smell of burned ozone fills the air, and the ball of magic slams into the ground where I had been, exploding dirt and rocks in every direction. Instinct tells me to cover my head, to protect my eyes from the debris, but I force myself to keep moving, to not give him the upper hand.
I spring to my feet, scissors clutched in my fist and the tip poised to slice into my skin as my mind scrambles for a counterspell. But I pull up blank, all my practice suddenly vanishing in the face of a real fight.
He grins, knowing he has me, then a loud crack sounds. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he slumps to the ground.
Donovan stands behind him, his eyes wide with fear. He drops the branch he holds. “Did I kill him?”
“I don’t think so.” Breathing hard, I kneel by the man and check his neck for a pulse.
Finding it strong and steady, I slap the sleep spell onto his forehead just to be safe.
“I’ve never seen magic like that before.” Donovan scrubs a hand over his face. “That was dark magic, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t know,” I murmur. “I’ve never seen anything like that, either.”
“Do you think he called for backup?” Donovan looks around. “What are we going to do?”
I study the man for a moment, considering our options. He obviously recognized the name Gregory, and something we did here sent out an alert.
Is he a watchdog? If he doesn’t report back, will others come?
One thing we know for sure, though, is that there’s something here to guard. Something we still need to find.
10
Bending, I search his pockets and pull out a cell phone. A red dot fills the screen that looks like a fingerprint, so I smash his index finger against it. The dot turns green, but the phone doesn’t unlock. Was that the alert? I try to unlock it, but a nine-digit passcode pops up.
I tuck the phone into my front pant pocket and return to his head, where I scoop my hands under his armpits and lift.
Damn, this guy is heavy.
“What are you doing?” Donovan demands. “We need to get out of here.”