Elemental Eight

by Cindy Stark

  Midway down the long wooden hallway, Margaret, along with Peter’s blond-haired, stout cousin, Travis, waited for them. Travis smiled and held his arm out for Cora. She accepted and walked to the chapel doors where they would wait for the wedding march to begin.

  Margaret wore a slimming periwinkle suit, dainty white gloves, and her hair up in a classic twist. A grin crossed her pink matte lips. “You are gorgeous, my dear. One look will leave Peter speechless.”

  The bird wings returned, and she gave Margaret a nervous smile. “Thank you.”

  Margaret offered her arm. Hazel slipped her hand through, and Margaret patted it. “Focus on your breathing and smile. Everything is perfect and in place. All you have left to do is marry the man of your dreams and celebrate.”

  She released a breathless chuckle. “It all seems so easy, doesn’t it?”

  Margaret gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s only as difficult as you believe it to be. Relax and have fun.”

  Hazel nodded. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  Margaret signaled to Travis who passed along the message to someone in the chapel, and the initial strands of the traditional wedding march filled the church. They took their first steps that would lead them down the aisle, past friends and family, to where Peter waited for her.

  The moment he was in view, she zeroed in on him and caught his gaze. He looked so handsome in his black suit. His emotional smile tugged at her heart, and tears of happiness surfaced in her eyes. She quickly blinked them back.

  Shivers of excitement raced over her as she neared him. Margaret paused to hand her over to Peter. She met Margaret’s caused and mouthed, “thank you.”

  Then she turned to her soon-to-be husband. He took her hands, and sweet, powerful energy pulsed between them.

  He stared into her eyes as though enchanted. “I’ve never seen anything as stunningly beautiful as you are at this moment. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

  She blinked several times and released a nervous breath. “I’m the lucky one.”

  He squeezed her hands tightly as though trying to convey everything he couldn’t say at that moment. She squeezed back.

  This man would be her husband from this day until she died. She would love him fiercely and make the happiest life with him.

  Father Orien turned to her, reeling her in from her wonderous daze. “Before we commence with the vows, I’d ask if there’s anyone who would object to this union.”

  Hazel stiffened, and her gaze flicked to her mother. Josephine sat with a loving smile on her face and no reservations in her expression whatsoever. Peter caught her gaze, and she smiled.

  A commotion came from the far-right side of the pews. She and Peter jerked their gazes in that direction. Her stomach fell to the floor as Victor stood and glanced across the room.

  “I—”

  His concerns disappeared into a choking fit. People around them gasped as he fought to take a breath. A man next to him stood and clapped him on the back. “Are you okay?”

  He shook his head.

  “Someone get him water,” a lady called.

  Victor nodded but still struggled to breathe. The man who’d stood took his arm and led him from the chapel. Victor didn’t glance again at Peter and Hazel.

  The priest studied them both, and Hazel shrugged. “He’s an old friend. I’m sure he has no objection.”

  Father Orien nodded and continued with the ceremony, speaking words of love and togetherness.

  Hazel’s fingers grew cold from stress, and Peter squeezed them again. She caught his reassuring gaze, exhaled, and forced her lips into a smile.

  When Father Orien finished the ceremony, he paused to give them both a warm look. “What God has joined together, let no man put asunder.”

  A flash of brilliant white lightning entered through the windows, followed by a boom of thunder so loud that it seemed to vibrate the very floor Hazel stood on. Gasps rolled through the chapel, and Peter shot her a concerned look.

  She gave a slight shake of her head and smiled.

  Father Orien chuckled nervously. “That’s quite a storm we have brewing out there. A memorable day, for sure.”

  Peter nodded at the priest. “Very memorable. Can we finish? I’m eager to make it legal before the roof collapses.”

  Everyone around them chuckled, but Hazel had to wonder if that actually could happen.

  The priest nodded. “Of course.”

  They exchanged rings, and then Father Orien cleared his throat. “Peter Parrish and Hazel Hardy, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

  The world seemed to stop then. Peter cupped her face and lowered his mouth to hers. Sizzling, potent energy swept through her and hardened into all-consuming love. When they separated, she could see that Peter had experienced something similar.

  Claps and cheers filled the room and brought her back to the present. She grinned up at him. Nothing and no one could stop them from being married now. He belonged to her, and she belonged to him. “I love you, Chief Parrish.”

  He caressed her cheek. “I love you, Mrs. Parrish.”

  They turned to greet their guests.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The scent of gardenias filled the crowded hall that had been added on sometime during the past hundred years. Flickering candlelight cast a mysterious air, and the sounds of happy people echoed around Hazel. She couldn’t have asked for a better day.

  Peter tugged her close. “Looks like some of your friends showed up after all.”

  Hazel glanced across the room and found Polly and Fauna making their way toward them. She smiled, grateful that they hadn’t completely deserted her despite that she’d gone against the coven’s wishes.

  Polly wore a genuine smile when she greeted them.

  Peter shook her hand. “Polly, thank you so much for coming. It’s good to see you. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it or not.”

  She nodded. “Nothing personal, you know. Under any other circumstances,” she said quietly.

  Hazel hugged her and surprisingly found warmth. “Thank you for coming.”

  Polly met her gaze. “You’ve made this harder on us than it needs to be, but I won’t turn my back on you.”

  Fauna claimed her hug as well. “You know I’m always here for you, sister,” she whispered.

  Her heartfelt declaration brought tears to Hazel’s eyes. “Thank you.”

  Fauna took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. “Harriett and Olivia are here, too.”

  Something in her voice warned Hazel that it might not be a friendly visit. But, really, she couldn’t believe they would pull something crazy at her wedding.

  Then again, she shouldn’t chance it. If they were planning something, she needed to put a stop to it right now. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  Fauna held her gaze as if to make sure she understood and then nodded.

  Peter tipped his head toward the tables laden with treats and teas. “Try the spiced chai tea with the chocolate mousse cake. Best ever.”

  Polly’s demeanor lightened. “I definitely will do that. Chocolate is my favorite.”

  Peter chuckled as they walked away. “That’s why I suggested it. She’s a sucker for chocolate, and we can’t have anyone looking bleak at our wedding.”

  Hazel laughed. “You are a scoundrel, Chief Parrish.”

  He grinned and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Just trying to keep the peace.”

  Timothy approached wearing an old-fashioned suit that had been tailored to look like clothes from the early 1700s. The man was always yearning to live in the past.

  Samuel towered over him, looking a good foot taller than the librarian. They both wore smiles, but Hazel couldn’t locate an ounce of goodness between them.

  Timothy pushed his black-framed glasses up his nose. “Came to offer my congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Parrish.”

  Hazel found that she could extend a warm greeting despite the misguided evi
l residing in their souls. “Thank you, Timothy.”

  She glanced toward Samuel, wondering what he’d say.

  He studied her with that uncanny look that always left her uneasy. “Nice wedding.”

  Peter extended a hand to each of the men in turn. Samuel hesitated but then shook it. Peter nodded. “Thanks, man. Thanks for coming.”

  Samuel tilted his chin upward in response. “Interesting weather. Seems like the heavens weren’t too keen on you getting married today.”

  A chill raced up her spine. She forced a smile. “That or maybe that was God’s way of congratulating us.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “Maybe so.”

  Powerful tension crackled between them and threatened to break out of the thin, fake veneer that currently kept them civil. Timothy glanced to Mrs. Lemmon and Mrs. Tillens who waited behind them to congratulate the couple. “We’ll let you get to your other guests.”

  She worked to keep her patience in check as they conversed with the sweet ladies, but the second they left, she searched the room and found Cora talking with Lachlan and his uncle.

  She turned to Peter. “If you can live without me for a moment, I need to speak with Cora. I’m a little worried about Olivia and Harriett, and I’d like her to keep an eye on them.”

  He lifted concerned brows. “Should I come with you?”

  She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “No. I’ll only be a minute. Be a dear, and go check on my mother.”

  He snorted. “She has three men pining over her. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  Hazel shot him an impatient look.

  “Fine. I’ll see if I need to rescue them.”

  She sent him a happy grin and then made her way toward Cora. She tried to locate Harriett and Olivia again as she did, but they were no longer in sight. Fauna’s warning left trepidation burning in her heart.

  Hazel smiled brightly as she approached Lachlan and Luca. “Look at you, Cora, with a handsome man on each side.”

  She blushed while Lachlan grinned. Cora’s boyfriend leaned in to kiss Hazel’s cheek. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, Lachlan.”

  Hazel turned to Luca Pellegrini, and a sexy smile lit the older Italian’s face. “Bella Hazel. Never was there a more beautiful bride.”

  He pulled her to him and gave her a full kiss on her lips. “My heart is forever lost.”

  She laughed. “So dramatic, Luca, but I love you dearly for it.”

  He grinned, his eyes twinkling.

  Hazel glanced between both men. “I hope you two will forgive me for a moment if I borrow my maid of honor.”

  Luca bowed. “Sì, bella.”

  Lachlan lifted Cora’s hand and kissed it. A trick he must have learned from his flirtatious uncle. “Only if you promise to return her shortly.”

  She stole Cora’s hand from Lachlan. “Of course. I’ll only need her for a few minutes.”

  Cora grinned at the men as Hazel tugged her from them. “You’d better have a good reason for stealing me away. Luca was planning our wedding, and Lachlan wasn’t saying no.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a hushed whisper. “But I’m worried. Fauna warned me that Harriett and Olivia are here. They haven’t come to congratulate me, and I fear they’re up to something. I wouldn’t put it past them to try to ruin my wedding.”

  All happiness evaporated from Cora’s face, and she glanced across the crowd of people. “Oh, no. I mean, I’ve heard whisperings of them plotting something against the Sons of Stonebridge, but they wouldn’t do that tonight.”

  Hazel widened her eyes in surprise. “They what? Cora, of course, they would. There’s no love lost between them and me, and if they had a chance to take out one of the Sons and ruin my wedding, they would so do that.”

  Cora shook her head. “They agreed to wait and see what the prophecy would bring.”

  She placed a sassy hand on her hip. “Tell me you don’t really believe that.”

  Cora studied her gaze for a moment, and then her shoulders sagged. “I really don’t think the coven would, but Olivia and Harriett are wild cards. Tell me where you last saw them, and I’ll go after them to head off a disaster.”

  “I have no idea where they are, but I’ll help you look. You take the right side of the building, and I’ll take the left. Perhaps we can hope that they’re using their brains more than they have been lately.”

  Hazel said it, but she certainly didn’t believe it.

  The two separated, and Hazel began the slow process of checking every corner and every room. She found Polly, Fauna, Olivia and Harriett all congregating in the secretary’s office. When she entered, they looked up in surprise, guilt etched on each of their faces.

  Hazel swallowed her fear. They wouldn’t try anything here, not with so many people around. They’d surrender her identity as well as their own, and that wouldn’t serve anyone. “What are you all doing?”

  Olivia puffed out her chest. “Came to congratulate the bride. What else?”

  Harriett frowned. “Not that you deserve it. Victor could have helped our cause, but you chose to leave us all more vulnerable.”

  Hazel folded her arms across the intricate lace bodice of her dress. “That’s a matter of opinion. I, personally, believe my choice will help us.”

  Polly stepped closer. “You’ve divided us, Hazel. Half the group supports you. The other half would like to see you gone.”

  She slid a glance toward Harriett and Olivia. It wasn’t hard to figure who was on her side and who wasn’t. “You know that’s exactly what Timothy and Samuel would love, for us to divide.”

  Olivia sneered. “You’re the one who perpetuated it.”

  Harriett agreed with a nod of her head. “Perhaps we need to turn it over to providence and let the pieces fall where they may.”

  Providence? The familiar word echoed in her head, and she tried to remember where she’d heard it. “Is that a threat?”

  Cora arrived, breathless. She took one look at their faces, and hers blanched. Not a good sign. “What’s going on?”

  Hazel flashed her a quick look. “We were discussing Providence.”

  The moment the word left her mouth, she remembered. Providence. That was the name of the company who’d received the large donation from John Bartles before he was murdered. Perhaps not a prostitution ring after all.

  Just that one word and the looks on Olivia’s and Harriett’s faces convinced her who’d killed him. “Really, though, my gut tells me you’re here to do the same thing to perhaps Timothy or Samuel that you did to John Bartles. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Polly’s jaw dropped, and Fauna looked away. Harriett and Olivia, however, stared her down.

  “Don’t act so surprised, Hazel,” Olivia said. “You know we couldn’t let what he’d done to poor Fauna go unanswered. Your great grandmother Clarabelle exacted her revenge as well to those who’d wronged her. It’s what we do.”

  She couldn’t believe they’d acted so recklessly. “You talk about me endangering the coven, but do you realize what you’ve likely done? John Bartles didn’t hurt Fauna. Samuel Canterbury did. I think Fauna might be confusing John with Samuel because he was the first one to the scene to help her.”

  Fauna narrowed her gaze in confusion. “I…I…”

  Hazel stared at Harriett and Olivia with accusing eyes. “You murdered an innocent man.”

  Olivia scoffed. “He’s hardly innocent. He’s one of the Sons of Stonebridge.”

  She clenched her teeth and shook her head. “He was a misguided man who’d fallen in with the wrong group. Can you prove that he’d done anything to a witch in the past?”

  Harriett glared. “Just because he hadn’t yet, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t.”

  “But the point was, he hadn’t. But you went after him, and now, the true evil hearts in the Sons of Stonebridge are on alert and on the prowl. Samuel Canterbury was watching all of us tonight. You practically handed him our names on a platter.”

  E
vil glinted in Olivia’s eyes. “No, Hazel. I delivered your name to him on a platter.”

  Powerful fear iced Hazel’s veins, and she tried to comprehend what Olivia’s words meant.

  Cora gasped. “What have you done?”

  Fauna looked as though she’d cry.

  Polly dropped her jaw and shook her head. “No. Olivia.”

  She gave them a smug smile. “You’ll soon see.”

  The moment the words were out of her mouth, surprised voices grew louder down the hall. Panic filled Hazel. Had they hurt Peter? Others? “What did you do?”

  Harriett grinned. “Go see.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Hazel fled the room and raced down the hall as fast as her long dress would allow. When she arrived at the reception, she couldn’t breathe. People watched in horror as green vines erupted from cracks in the wooden floor, along the floorboards, and from crevices around the window.

  “No…” Hazel said in a shocked whisper.

  Panic flooded the room. Her guests looked to each other as if they wondered if they should flee or take shelter. The tendrils grew longer and snaked across any available surface. Leaves and tiny pink flowers blossomed from the stems, looking very beautiful and amazingly horrifying at the same time.

  A scream came from her left, and Hazel turned to see Mrs. Lemmon on the ground, trying to dislodge her shoe from an overzealous vine.

  Whispers turned to shouts of, “Run!”, and Hazel’s lovely reception degraded into mad chaos. Townspeople shoved and clamored to escape the vines, but it tripped more people.

  Hazel searched for Peter, desperately needing his support, but she couldn’t see him.

  Harriett and Olivia must have been out of their ever-loving minds to do such an atrocious thing. People were getting hurt. Her people. Her friends.

  A little girl in a darling pink dress cried out in distress as she frantically searched for her parents. Hazel headed in her direction to comfort her.

  It was awful. So, so awful.

  Green tendrils dripped from the ceiling. They reached and grabbed for clothes, hair, anything. People screamed. They shoved others out of the way to get closer to the door. Wails of fear echoed from the walls.