Would their next place be blown away by a tornado created by Aerin, or would Tierra have the earth swallow it whole, or Goddess forbid, send it to Hell with them locked inside like she had him? He mentally shuddered at the memory.
“Dru, you want to send Claire a mental IM and tell her to hurry the fuck up? First item on my docket is to instruct Moira in the finer points of self-defense. She would have been killed without Aerin’s little trick. I won’t have her unprotected like that again.” Nick slammed his empty glass down on the table like a judge’s gavel.
“I can’t seem to reach her,” Dru admitted.
Killian stood up straight. “I’m going after them.” Tierra had promised not to leave the house, and if she lied to him, she would pay. “Julian, take the basement, Nick and Dru, the second and third floors. I’ll search the attic.” Something was going on up there in that room. He’d been puzzled over it ever since he’d heard about Tierra’s collapse up there when the babe had erected a force field around her to block out a Satan-possessed Aerin.
He made to quit the room and then paused and warned them, “Don’t disturb Justine. Trust me on this.” Then he vaulted up the stairs.
The attic was empty except for Jinx, who sat on guard along a barren wall, staring at him with its freaky, intelligent glass-green eyes. Boxes and trunks were stacked neatly along another wall, which had to be Tierra’s doing. He appreciated an organized woman. The kitchen was the same. While her bedroom was a type of logical chaos. More so to do with the abundance of color, flowing scarves, and draped clothing rather from messy clutter.
He stood and listened, scanning the room for any hidden doors. Nothing. But then why was the cat there?
Taking a step toward it, Killian stopped when it hissed, baring its sharp fangs.
“You really think you’re a match for me?” He swore the feline lifted its lip in a sneer. Could it understand him? It understood Tierra, but then her powers as an earth witch included the ability to talk to the beasts of the forest.
He faced down the cat. “What are you protecting?” I can’t believe I’m talking to a cat.
A low, hair-raising snarl emanated from the diminutive creature.
Definitely protecting or guarding something, but Killian couldn’t see anything hidden, feel any magic vibrations, or mirages in the air. He walked around the perimeter of the room, taking in the size of the lower floors and the silhouette of the manor from outside.
Something was off.
Another low growl rumbled from the cat.
Yeah, he was onto something.
A bat flew at him from the eaves, and he swatted at it, missing the quick flying rodent.
What were the witches concealing up here?
“Did you find them?” Dru asked, entering the attic followed by Nick and Julian. Julian still carried his damn trunk. The man hadn’t let it out of his sight since he’d located it in the castle rubble. Killian understood how important it was to Julian, hell to all of them, but he needed to find a way to cloak the thing. With his suit covered in concrete dust, torn and ragged, he looked like a carpetbagger.
“I found something.” Killian indicated Jinx, now standing on all fours, with her ruff up and tail twitching, giving them a low warning roar that sounded like a diesel engine on a mac truck. “There’s a hidden room here. Take in the dimension of the attic space that you see and compare them to the floors below.
Julian nodded. “The room does seem to be missing a considerable amount of square footage.”
“So, where’s the damn door?” Nick asked, his mood more sour than usual.
“Obviously, they shrouded it from us,” Dru said. “What I don’t understand is how the spell is preventing me from mentally reaching Claire.”
“This is a disturbing situation,” Julian said.
He was right. If the women could disappear like this, hidden from the world—from them—what else could they do that the Horsemen weren’t aware of?
“By my estimation, the room is behind this wall,” Killian said.
“How’d you figure that out?” Nick asked.
“The cat hasn’t moved since I entered the attic,” Killian added. “It has to be there.”
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Dru asked Nick.
A wicked gleam entered Nick’s dark amber eyes. “There has to be a chainsaw around here somewhere.”
6
“Hey, do you hear that?” Claire pressed her ear to the door.
“It's General Lee!” Moira exclaimed. “Why those destruction lovin’ Horsemen. How dare they think of sawing into our sanctuary?”
“We need to find a release on that door, or we will lose it.” Tierra planted her hands on her hips. Killian had to be behind this. Moira was right, how dare they destroy her home just to get to them? They had the patience of a rutting Billy goat.
“Join hands,” Claire said, holding out both of hers.
“Oh, hell no,” Moira said. “Every damn time we’ve done that, we’ve opened a Seal. There’s only one left. You want to end the world just to save a freakin’ door?”
“Claire’s right.” Aerin took a position opposite Claire and offered her hand to Moira. “The room needs to know we are one. We say no spell. Just join in a circle and stand in your compass corners.”
Moira shared a worried look with Tierra. She had the same doubts as Moira. But if they didn’t perform any magic while connected that should prevent the last Seal from opening. Right? Saying a small prayer to the Goddess, Tierra clasped Claire’s and Aerin’s hand, standing north. “It’ll be okay, Moira.”
“It sure as hell better be,” she muttered and stood south, completing the circle.
The second they joined, the door whipped open wide with a bang. The Horsemen stood gaping at the entrance. Nick slowly depressed the power on General Lee, looking thwarted that he didn’t get to chainsaw through the wall.
Aerin was the first to speak, addressing her ire at Julian. “I see that you saved your precious trunk.”
Her injured feelings over not being as important to Julian as that trunk vibrated over the room.
Julian devoured Aerin with his eyes, pride and something deeper in his expression as he raked her in. “I never had any doubt that you would save your sister. Otherwise, I would have sacrificed everything to save you myself.”
Aerin harrumphed. While his words did seem to placate her somewhat, Tierra knew Julian still had a way to go to get back into Aerin’s good graces, and her bed.
“What is this room?” Killian asked, advancing over the threshold.
Tierra was surprised when the room didn’t expel him. “Our mother’s sanctuary.”
“It wasn’t my secret to tell you,” Claire said to Dru, obviously answering his mental question.
“All right, you two,” Moira said. “No secret messages back and forth. And while we are at it, hands off General Lee.” She strode to Nick and they had a little tug of war before Nick finally released his hold on the chainsaw.
“Good to see you are unharmed,” Nick growled, his tone promising that no one marked her but him.
“No thanks to you.” She turned and walked away from him without a backward glance.
Julian wasn’t the only one who needed to repair fences. He moved to follow Killian into the room.
“Stop right there,” Tierra said. “Our sanctuary is a Horseman free zone.”
“Where does that door lead to?” Killian asked, ignoring her directive.
“None of your business,” Tierra replied through tight lips.
“That is where you are wrong, my gazelle. Everything about you is my business.” His tone was as hard as his black eyes.
Tierra wanted to shove him back, physically, magically, but held her ground without revealing just how much he infuriated her.
“Julian, show them what’s inside the trunk,” Killian said.
The other three Horseman objected at once, talking so fast that Tierra couldn’t make sense of the argument.
“Y'all go suck on a sock.” Moira lifted General Lee in front of her like a sword. “I’ve had enough of this bitchin’ and bickerin’ between us. We have bigger things to worry about than fragile male egos. It’s time we had a real truce and work together to find a solution that will save the world from endin’.”
“No one has seen inside this trunk throughout time except the four of us, and you want to open it up for these neophytes,” Nick said to Killian.
“Neophytes?” Aerin took a step toward Nick. “Moira give me that chain saw.”
“Cease!” Julian said in a low, commanding voice that raised goose bumps on Tierra’s exposed skin. “Bane is right. We will share with you what is inside this trunk, if you share the secrets of your sanctuary. Between the two, we might actually find a solution.”
Tierra shared a look with her sisters. They met her wary one, with suppressed anger and reluctant agreement. They really didn’t have much of a choice since Julian was mostly right. What did they really have to lose, other than the world, and that would happen if they didn’t try everything they could to stop it.
Tierra stepped forward. “Okay, but first you show us what’s inside that trunk as you are already standing inside our sanctuary.”
Julian looked to his brothers. Killian nodded for him to go ahead while Dru and Nick stood stoic. Julian set the large trunk down and released the complicated locks on the front. It seemed antediluvian, and the locking mechanism was like those antique desks with all the hidden cubbies. Finally, he lifted the lid.
Tierra and her sisters peered inside. Narrow stone risers led down to a bottom she couldn’t see.
“Is that a…staircase? Tierra asked.
“You left me for dead to save a fucking staircase?” Aerin said.
“It isn’t the staircase that is important, it is where it leads,” Julian informed her.
“Why, don’t that beat all,” Moira exclaimed. “It's one of them Mary Poppins magic carpet bags. Remember how she pulled all those crazy things out of her sack? Everythin' from coatracks to tasseled floor lamp. Don’t tell me y'all haven’t seen it?”
Aerin and Claire shook their heads.
“We need a movie night,” Moira said.
“It really is an iconic movie,” Julian said.
“You’ve seen it?” Dru shared an eye roll with Nick.
“Not all of us are out every night attempting coitous with anything on two legs,” Julian said.
“There was no attempting about it,” Nick muttered.
“We’re getting off the subject,” Claire said. “Where do the stairs lead?”
“To Julian’s vast library in his gothic Châteaux high in the French Alps,” Killian informed them.
“France.” Aerin leaned into the trunk. “How is that even possible?”
“With all that has recently happened in your short span of your staggeringly limited life, you can’t figure that one out for yourself?” Nick pointed out.
“Listen you uncultured fuck,” Aerin said, “I know its magic, but what kind of magic?” Tierra was surprised she didn’t ask where she could get one for herself.
“Ancient,” Julian said, clearly not willing to add any more information.
“Can we go down them?” Tierra asked, her feet itching to rush down the steps.
“Damn skippy,” Moira said. “I've always wanted to go to France. It's the Creole motherland, after all. And just think. If we travel by magic staircase, I wouldn't have to get groped by those ham-handed TSA Agents who always seem to be lookin' for explosives in the general area of my tits.”
“I’m not going down there,” Aerin said, backing up a few steps.
“Turns out she’s a mite claustrophobic,” Moira added.
Claire sidled closer to Dru. “I’d rather stay here, too. I’m not a fan of dark, dank places.” Especially now that she’d been held captive in the old cement Army batteries at Fort Worden.
“I suggest we split up,” Killian said. “Tierra and I will go with Julian and Moira.”
“How about hell fucking no,” Nick said. “If anyone is going anywhere with Moira, it's me.”
“I’ll go where I damn well please. You’ve got no claim to me.”
“The hell I don’t.”
“It’s best you give me some space, or you’ll find yourself twenty leagues under the sea, buddy.”
“Enough,” Dru barked, wrapping an arm around Claire’s shoulders. “Moira isn’t the only one who can use a break from bickering. Claire and I will stay along with Nick and Aerin and we’ll go through the sanctuary while you four see what you can find in the Châteaux’s extensive library.”
“Do I need to pack a bag?” Tierra asked. What did one wear in France?
“No, the Châteaux is equipped with whatever you might need, and if it isn’t, all you have to do is climb the stairs back here.” Killian took her hand, and in her excitement, she squeezed it before she remembered she was still upset with him.
Killian stepped inside the trunk and helped Tierra down. “Don’t let go of me. The stairs are steep and I won’t have you tumble.”
Julian followed them inside and held out gloved hand for Moira. “My lady.”
“She is not your lady and you’d better keep your diseased hands off her,” Nick growled.
Moira took Julian’s hand and climbed in behind him. “Stuff it, Conquest, and play nice with my sisters unless you want your right hand to end up callused as your manners.”
The sound of Nick’s swearing followed them as they descended the rough stone stairs.
7
“This is a colossal waste of time,” Tierra said, arching her back to help relieve the biting ache.
“We might not have found anything new regardin’ the Apocalypse, but get this shit. Mermaids are real and so are unicorns. Atlantis actually exists. That is my next vacation spot. Have y'all been there?” Moira asked Julian and Killian.
“Indeed,” Julian said not looking up from the large leather book in front of him. He sat in a brocade chair adjacent to a long, scarred walnut table, tomes stacked in towers on either side of him. “It’s overrated, and any chance of you vacationing there will be moot if you don’t advance to the next book.” He pointed at the huge pile they'd amassed after going through the catalog on his computer.
Julian was an odd mix of the past and future. He was timeless, really. It had shocked Tierra that Julian had entered all the information of over thousands of books, along with pertinent subject matters, and his comments into a computer. It sure made their search faster, though they’d come up empty so far.
Tierra awkwardly got to her feet and stretched, and rubbed her lower back. She was feeling the pregnancy weight after days spent bent over and rifling through dusty manuscripts.
“You need a break,” Killian said, standing and stalking toward her.
“No, I don’t. I’m just stiff from sitting so much.”
Moira glanced up from her cross-legged perch in the leather high-back chair. “Cool your heels, Tierra. Julian and I will keep at it. We’re bound to find something useful soon.”
“Agreed,” Julian said. “Some vittles and more coffee would be helpful after you’ve had a lie down.”
“I don’t need a lie down,” Tierra said. Just because she was pregnant didn’t mean she had a handicap.
“You need to take better care of yourself,” Killian growled. “You’re with child.”
“Like I don’t know that.” Hard to forget with the beach ball where her flat stomach used to be and the constant kicking from the little tyke. He or she had a promising career as a soccer player.
“Not to mention crankier than a pig in a bacon factory,” Moira muttered.
Yes, she was cranky. She was in France and hadn’t seen any of it outside of the granite medieval fortress Julian called Le Châteaux Morte.
Suddenly her world tilted as Killian swung her up into his arms. “You will take a break even if I have to force you to.”
> “Put me down,” she demanded.
“No.” He quit the room with her secure in his hold.
She wanted to wail at him, struggle in his arms, but didn’t relish the idea of tumbling to the floor. Plus, if she were to be honest, taking a nap sounded like heaven. She’d been pushing herself, hoping they would come across something, anything, that would help them stop the progression of the Apocalypse.
Killian carried her through the grand foyer off the library and up the sweeping staircase to her bedroom as though she weighed nothing. She tried to stifle the feeling of being cherished, but wasn't successful.
Once they reached the room she’d been given, with its tapestry-covered walls, massive four-poster canopy and velvet bed clothes, he gently laid her on the soft mattress. “Stay.”
She wanted to disobey his order—had felt compelled to argue with his every edict since they had returned from the vibrant garden he’d abducted her to—but she was too tired and sore to go against what her body craved. A yawn, large enough to crack her jaw, settled it. She needed a nap.
Killian lifted her feet and disposed of her shoes and socks. The Châteaux had been constructed eons ago and didn’t have central heating. Just the oversized fireplaces in every room tall enough to stand completely upright in and wide enough to house three or four people easily. She wondered vaguely where Julian procured the firewood to heat each room. She hadn’t noticed him feeding the flames either, they just continued to burn unattended. More magic that she wasn’t privy to, she figured.
Once Killian tossed her shoes aside, he crawled onto the bed and settled next to her.
She stiffened when he pulled her into the curve of his body and felt his erection, hard and thick at her backside.
“Hey, that isn’t resting.” She was not up to making love with him again. She’d done a fine job of keeping him at bay with her sharp tongue. Who knew she had such a vicious side? But then Killian did seem to bring out the worst in her.
“Sleep. I’ll not bother you…for now.” He tossed a fur blanket over them, and she couldn’t help snuggling into the pelt. No fake fur for the Horsemen, though she didn’t want to consider the animal who’d been sacrificed for such a divine blanket.
Which Witch is Willing? (The Witches of Port Townsend Book 4) Page 3