Shattered

by Melissa Lummis

  She swatted him away, but he dodged. “Yeah, I know, but I’m nervous now.”

  He knelt down beside her with his hand on her thigh and warm, reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine. They are good people. Listen to them, do your best, and the rest will come naturally.” He kissed her softly on the lips.

  “Why these people? Weren’t there covens in D.C. we could have worked with?”

  Christian rose and ran a hand through his hair. “Just trust me. You want to learn from Katie Brown. She’s the most powerful witch on the East Coast, and I suspect on the continent. There may be a few out there with her abilities, but none have the coven strength she’s recruited. And that, my dear,” he bent over to kiss her cheek, “is why they are interested in you. Katie was impressed with your abilities and Rachel liked you, so you’re in. Now, all you have to do is prove yourself worthy.”

  Heather wrinkled up her nose. “I don’t like having to prove anything to anyone.” She bit her croissant and rubbed the stinging on the back of her neck. “Damn, is sunrise close?”

  “Unfortunately. But we have just enough time.” Christian’s eyes twinkled as he swept her off the chair. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  “Christian,” she mock whined, “I haven’t finished eating.”

  * * *

  Loti stood blindfolded in the middle of an open field with her arms outstretched. She let them fall to her side and stepped gingerly forward. The sun had been up for a couple of hours and the heat was building. Appalachian springs were so weird: cool one day, hot the next. This day promised to be a steamy one. All around her, the world ebbed and flowed in streamers of color.

  She made out the shapes of trees and the flutter of the wind by interpreting the energy trails. She was practicing tuning in to the nuances of life force all around and how to detect separate living beings—which was difficult when all things thrummed with life, even the rocks. There was a squirrel, a beetle, a butterfly, and a blade of grass. She allowed her mind to find these things by letting go, letting the whole big picture lead her to each element step by step.

  “How’s it going?” Guided called from the edge of the meadow.

  “Good. Shh.” She stumbled over to a blue and white checked blanket spread out on the grass.

  A basket sat on one corner, while a rock held down the opposite one. With the blindfold still on, she knew all this by the energy patterns that formed the pictures much like the reflected sunlight allowed any eye to see things, but with more depth of color. The scene was like a magic fairy land, lit up from the inside out. She knelt down to open the basket and lifted out bread, cheese, and out-of-season fruit.

  “Where’d you get cherries so early in the season?” She called out as she plopped onto her bottom and popped one in her mouth.

  “Mitch found them at the grocery store. She knew they were your favorite.” Guided was right behind her and she jumped. “You’re getting better, but you should have sensed me approach.” He sat down on the blanket and Loti untied the blindfold. She squinted up at the bright sunshine.

  “I’m tired. I should have gone to bed an hour ago.” She rubbed an eye. “I don’t know how to make this day and night stuff work. I get that I need to practice during the day, but it really wreaks havoc with my sleep.” She tore off a piece of bread and munched on it.

  Guided patted her knee. “I know, but we have to do some of this during the day. Can you feel how the energy is different in the daytime? Not as rich?”

  She nodded as she finished chewing. “Yes, it’s paler. Less. More subdued.” She fished around in the basket and drew out a bottle of water. Twisting off the lid, she gulped at the still cool water.

  “Sunlight interferes with magic, thus all the folklore of witches dancing by the light of the moon.” He winked, his grin peering out from behind his full beard. “The old ones must have had a ball, if all the tales are to be believed.”

  “Guided!” Hammer’s voice reached them before they saw him. “I need a word.”

  Loti jumped up like she was ready to bolt. “What’s wrong?” She jogged towards the healer, her brow furrowed, lips drawn into a tight line.

  Hammer squinted at her from under his sun hat. “You are way too worked up.”

  The lines around Loti’s mouth and eyes deepened. “Don’t mess with me. I’m not in the mood.” She stomped over to the blanket and plunked herself back down, leaning back on her hands. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know if I should say around you. You might zap me or something.”

  “She’s sleep deprived and hungry,” Guided waved for Hammer to sit down. “Don’t mess with her.”

  “Will you two knock it off?” Loti popped a cherry in her mouth and spit the pit at Hammer, who caught it and pitched it back at her, grinning. It hit her in the forehead and she gasped. Incensed, she threw a whole cherry at him. Guided touched her shoulder.

  “Don’t touch me,” she snapped. He withdrew his hand at once, but smiled at Hammer.

  “Don’t touch her.” He inclined his head in mock seriousness and they both laughed. Loti smacked Guided on the back of the head. “Ow!” He held his head while Hammer howled with laughter.

  “So what’s the trouble?” Guided sat in a crisscross position, leaning on one hand.

  Hammer scratched under his beard. “Well, Margarite and Fiamette seem to think that someone—or something—has penetrated the protection wards. They don’t have any definite ideas what or who.”

  “How do they know? What have they sensed?” Guided sat up straighter, his ever-present grin faded.

  “You’ll have to talk to them. They’re getting Katie in on this, too, but Margarite said she sensed a flash of energy last night. We can’t locate any intruders, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t here.”

  Loti paled and started shoving things back into the picnic basic. She leaped to her feet. “I need to tell Wolf what’s going on.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest and she broke out in a cold sweat. Picnic basket in hand she ran across the meadow towards the trailhead.

  “Hey, that’s my breakfast, too,” Guided called after her.

  “Sorry!” she yelled and ran with all her might. A mad need to get to Wolf before something got to him drove her legs.

  When she came to an intersection of trails, she dropped the basket and kept running. Guided would pass by there on his way to the Traveler’s campsite and find it. She had put on her sneakers that morning so she could get a run in before going to bed and took advantage of them. Unzipping her micro-fleece jacket, she tied it around her waist without stopping.

  She was way too worked up, just like Hammer said, but she had reason. They’d been waiting for Modore’s next move. She and Wolf had expected it sooner than later because the longer Modore waited, the less likely he would be able to separate them without killing them both. Their bond was growing stronger with each passing day.

  There was no going back and no way of undoing their bond that she could imagine. Patrick’s separation spell worked when it did because they were still newly bonded, but now? Wolf’s ability to tolerate the sun was a manifestation of their deepening bond, proving to her that there was something profoundly different about both of their natures now.

  If Wolf could walk in the sun and she could heal almost as well as a vampire, then they must be blending. She ran through a spider web and yelled. Freaking out, she wiped at it wildly, wondering with panicky dread where the spider was. Immediately, she ran into another one.

  “Christ,” she yelped.

  Rubbing at her arms, she kept her eye on the path as she ran. Another web spread across her chest and she stopped abruptly, swiping at the spider crawling on her arm. She picked up a stick and waved it in front of her as she jogged along at a more conservative pace.

  “Gross,” she mumbled as she knocked down a rather large web with two spiders on either end. She and Guided had walked the same path just a couple hours ago. Those were some industrious spiders.
>
  “Ack!”

  She threw her hands up as another spider web clung to her face and she tripped over a root, twisting her ankle and falling into the trail. She yelled, again. Too late she realized her mistake in opening her mouth and spit and sputtered. Grumbling, she wiped off the strands stuck to her mouth and cheeks. Despite her throbbing ankle, she scrambled to her feet, dodging webs as she went. She launched herself up the steps to their cabin, rubbing spider webs from her hands onto her shorts.

  She flung open the glass front door. “Wolf!” Limping into the bedroom, she flipped the wall switch. Wolf growled as the overhead light flooded the room.

  “What?” Grimacing, he covered his eyes with his forearm and rolled onto his back.

  “Get up. It’s happening.” Loti grabbed his arm.

  Wolf sat up abruptly, wide awake despite the fact the angry red numbers on the clock read 9:42 in the morning. “What is it?” His biceps bulged and his eyes darted around the room like he was ready for something to jump out at him.

  “Margarite told Hammer somebody penetrated the wards last night.” Loti sucked in a lung full of air and her words followed in a gush. “And Fiamette sensed it, too. They haven’t found anyone, but—” She stopped to drag another ragged breath. “—they’re not even sure it was a person. I don’t know anything else.” She bent over, trying to catch her breath.

  Wolf was out of bed and pulling on jeans and a t-shirt. “We need to talk to them.”

  He jammed his boots on. Loti limped into the kitche, her heart hammering. Retrieving a pitcher of water from the fridge, she poured a glass and gulped it down, sweat dripping off her chin. When she stopped a moment to catch her breath, she got a good look at her hands and fumbled with the glass.

  Dim lines of light wriggled over her skin, wrapping around her fingers and wrists. She concentrated on her own life force. She’d learned how to draw it to the surface, building it to a hot glow that pulsed rapidly around her in the rainbow colors of her chakras. As she intensified her energy, the slender tendrils of light faded away. When she was satisfied all traces were gone, she let her own light die down to normal.

  She had never seen anything quite like that before. Sometimes, the energy people left behind moved of its own accord, but mostly they left energetic imprints that faded with time. She washed her hands for good measure and before she could say anything to him, Wolf tromped through the kitchen, heading for the front door.

  “Let’s go,” he barked.

  Chapter Six

  Heather hesitated on the walkway leading to the covered porch. Bleeding hearts were in full bloom, draped over the grey pavers. On the porch, a pair of white rocking chairs flanked a round wooden table with a bucket of coral diascia in the center.

  “Don’t let down your guard around her, puddin’. These southern belles just look like crème puffs; they’re really sharks. Don’t ever forget that.”

  Heather shook her head as she ran up the steps and knocked on the decorative glass door. She fingered her bottom lip as she waited, then she caught a glimpse of herself in the glass. What a mess! The humid morning had turned her hair into red cotton candy. Agitated, she smoothed and patted, wishing Christian could have been there. The door opened.

  “Heather! So good to see you, my dear.” Katie Brown greeted her with a gentle smile. “Come in.”

  Heather froze mid-primp, made herself smile as she let her hands fall to her side. Everything was going to be fine. Just fine. Katie waved her into the house and shut the door behind her, never giving any indication she had seen the primping. She was polite, Heather’d give the old woman that.

  The air in the foyer was a comforting cool after the ugly mugginess outside. Heather hung her light sweater on the coat tree and followed Katie into the large, airy kitchen. Wiping the sticky sweat off the back of her neck, she glanced through the archway into the formal dining room.

  Pressed glass glinted inside an antique china cabinet. The walls in the kitchen glowed a muted yellow in the indirect sunlight as the scent of cinnamon and lemon permeated the space. Heather closed her eyes, took a quiet breath. The house spoke of family, heritage, old money. She opened her eyes.

  “Would you like some iced tea?” Katie opened the refrigerator to extract a pitcher.

  But it also spoke of love and a well-worn care.

  “Unsweet?” Heather stopped her fingers before they could pinch her lip and managed a tentative smile at the older woman.

  “I always keep both on hand.” Katie set the pitcher on the table and reached for glasses in the cabinet. “Lemon?” She peered over her shoulder at Heather.

  “Yes, please.” Despite what her mother’s voice had said, Heather liked Katie.

  Yes, the older witch was southern proper, but she was also extremely kind. Katie had never been condescending, even knowing Heather’s past. Heather had told her about the club because she didn’t want any secrets, or anything that could come up later and change the matriarch’s mind about her. Christian agreed that honesty would be the best policy as far as Katie was concerned, and Rachel, for that matter.

  “Are you ready to meet the rest of the coven?” Katie poured tea and affixed a slice of lemon to each rim. She handed Heather a sweaty glass, ice cubes tinkling.

  “I’m not sure.” Heather sipped the tea.

  “Would you like any sweetener?” Katie paused behind the kitchen chair.

  “No, it’s perfect as is.” And it was, neither bitter nor under brewed.

  Katie gave her an approving nod and sat down, gesturing for the young woman to join her. Heather settled into the white wooden chair beside Katie, placing her glass gently on the table.

  “I can appreciate your nervousness, but rest assured my coven will be very welcoming.” Katie sipped. “They trust Rachel and me.”

  “Why me, Katie?” Heather had to ask, had to get it off her chest.

  She and Katie were just getting to know each other, but the question was preying on Heather’s mind and heart. What made Katie pick her? Katie didn’t look at all alarmed or concerned by the question, just thoughtful.

  “I have a feeling about you, Heather— like you are supposed to be with us. I get them sometimes.” Katie rested her hands around the cool glass. “And I’m learning to trust my gut feelings.”

  Her smile faltered, but she recovered with a generous one. Heather couldn’t help but smile back, even as her mother’s tsk tsk echoed in her head.

  “But you don’t know much about me.” There, are you happy, mother?

  Katie patted Heather’s hand. “So tell me more about yourself.”

  Apprehensive, Heather peered up at the ceiling as she blew out a breath. “Well, what do you want to know?”

  Katie laughed and sat back, clasping her liver-spotted hands in her lap. “Well, start with your family. That’s always a good place.”

  Heather’s eyes drifted around the room as she fidgeted in her seat. “Um, I don’t really have any family to speak of.” At Katie’s raised brows, she quickly added, “Living, that is. My mother…” she cleared her throat, “passed away a couple years ago.”

  She stared at her thumbs twiddling around each other. Her mother wasn’t her favorite topic, and she doubted very much the tenured professor smiling at her would think very highly of her. Katie’s eyes softened while she waited for Heather to say more, but she had no idea what else to say. What? Tell her about all her mother’s boyfriends? Or the three divorces? Oh, how about the drug binges and the drunken three a.m. scream-fests?

  “I’m so sorry, dear.” Katie laid a gentle hand on Heather’s arm. “You must have felt adrift when she died.”

  Heather’s free hand fluttered around. “It’s been years and I’ve moved on.” She gulped her tea, looking at anything except Katie’s face. Katie tilted her head and Heather braced herself for the inevitable questions. She pressed her mouth into a thin line.

  “What about the rest of your family?” Heather’s lips loosened.

  That w
asn’t what she’d expected. She had expected Katie to press her about how her mother died. The last thing she wanted to tell this kind woman was that her mother drank herself to death—dying from complications of cirrhosis of the liver, kidney failure and Hepatitis C. She didn’t want to explain it all for one thing, but she also didn’t want anyone’s pity.

  “What about them?” Heather lifted her chin and pushed her chair back from the table.

  Katie blinked and seemed to gather herself. “Do you have aunts and uncles, cousins?”

  Heather gave her head an abrupt shake. “Not that I’m aware of. As far as I know, Mom and I were the only family we had.”

  There was a long pause. Heather shifted in her seat and finally stood up, anxious, nervous. She paced.

  Katie’s gaze followed her around the room. “What about your grandparents?”

  “The only thing my mom told me about her parents was they were old southern stock more interested in maintaining their traditions than relationships.”

  Katie’s eyebrows rose. “Do you know where they are?”

  Heather shrugged as she paced. “No and I don’t care to.” She stopped in front of Katie, met her gaze. “If my mom wasn’t good enough for them, I can’t imagine I’d be, either.”

  Katie’s chair squeaked across the floor as she stood. “Don’t assume such things, my dear. You never know what the truth really is.”

  “Uh huh. See? Accusing me of lying.”

  While Heather understood that voice wasn’t real, that her dead mother didn’t actually speak to her from the realm of the dead, it sounded so real at times she had to watch herself or she would start talking back to it.

  “Are you saying my mother lied to me?” Heather crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Oh, no. Of course not.” Katie shook her head as she gathered the empty glasses. She paused, staring off into the distance. “I’m sure your mother told you what she believed, or at least what she thought you needed to know.” She rested a hand on Heather’s shoulder briefly.