June was still out.
Baz stared down at the beautiful cat curled in his lap—his familiar, his Keeper, the great love of his life. He racked his mind for a spell or a blessing to expedite her return to consciousness and transformation back into a woman. Aside from a patch of singed fur, he didn’t see any external injuries, but he couldn’t be sure until she was in human form. Not only that, the longer she remained a cat, the more difficult the reverse transition.
Katie Sue squeezed his shoulder. “This is the third time June’s shifted in less than twenty-four hours. She’s exhausted. Let her rest.”
“She’ll rally,” Roe added.
Sam roused with a groan and, with the help of Daniel, rose into a sitting position. “What happened?” she asked in a croaky voice.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Baz snapped.
Daniel shot him a glance, warning him to chill. “Regardless of what June reported, Sam’s not to blame.” The vampire wrapped the quilt around her shoulders and pulled her close. “She wouldn’t harm family. She wouldn’t harm anyone.”
Noting Samantha’s dazed expression, Baz tempered his frustration. “I know. Trust me. My mind’s not traveling that road. This is the work of a rogue warlock, who somehow managed to possess her or control her or—”
“As long as you’re aware—”
“I’m aware.”
“Well, I’m not.” Samantha pressed a palm to her forehead and eyed everyone in the room, including her feline cousin. “I’d appreciate it if someone would clue me in.”
Baz felt June stir, felt the increasing weight of her in his lap as she shifted before everyone’s eyes. His heart hammered as her sweet body, her human body, appeared unscathed except for a charred patch on her coat. One mitten on, one off, she smoothed her hands up his chest, wrapping her arms around him and snuggling her face into his neck. Her contented purr was all female.
The looks on the others’ faces ranged from bemused to surprised. Not because a cat had transformed into a woman—they’d all seen June shift before. But because they were all aware of the stormy history between Baz and June. Just now she was snuggling against Baz like a lover. Not that he minded, but they had an audience, plus she wasn’t fully cognizant.
Someone cleared their throat.
Baz smoothed June’s hair from her face and gave her a squeeze. “Rise and shine, Keeper.”
Her lashes fluttered, and suddenly she was smiling up at him, another one of those dreamy smiles that spiked his pulse. “Hi,” she said.
He smiled back. “Hell of a catnap. You took a year off my life, June Bug.”
“Is someone going to fill me in?” Samantha asked, sounding agitated now.
“You’re shivering,” said Daniel.
“I’ll kick up the heat,” Vaughn said.
“I’ll heat up some wassail,” Katie Sue said. “Enough for everyone.”
Roe was on her heels. “I’ll help.”
The varied voices seemed to jar June’s senses. Wide-eyed, she pushed away from Baz’s chest, then sprang from his lap, backing into Jett.
She apologized quickly, then focused on Samantha, cocking her head and narrowing her eyes. “Are you...you?”
Sam looked at her curiously. “Of course I’m me. What the—”
“I know why you haven’t been able to locate Marin,” June said to Baz. “He’s body hopping.”
Chapter 5
Warmed wassail helped to take off the chill June had feared she would never shake. Although nuked Red Bull would have been better. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this drained. Between lack of sleep, drawing on borrowed power three times today and getting zapped by magic, physically she was spent.
Her mind, however, was wired.
The challenge was to focus. On the crisis, not Baz. They’d bonded telepathically, and even afterward, in her unconscious state, she’d felt his presence, heard his voice, sensed his concern.
For her.
Focus.
“Just so I have everything straight,” June said, tearing her gaze from Baz’s, “as a suspected minion to the monster responsible for this darkness, Leo Gantry was transported by the council to an Otherworld holding cell, pending a formal investigation.”
“At the request of the council, I cast a spell that should have prevented Gantry from shifting and escaping. Obviously,” Baz said, “Marin intervened.”
“As Keepers,” Roe said, “we were notified of Gantry’s absence the moment it was detected.”
“Why wasn’t I notified?” June asked. She was a Keeper, albeit a reluctant one. Yet again, she felt like an outsider. Out of touch. Uninformed.
“I called you myself,” Sam said, “but you didn’t answer.”
Frowning, June pulled her cell phone from her pocket. Dead. “I thought I charged my phone,” she said more to herself than anyone.
“Happens to all of us,” Vaughn said.
June didn’t believe him. Every person sitting in this parlor had a keen responsibility to their charges and fellow Others. They wouldn’t forget something as important and routine as juicing their phone. She glanced at Baz and instantly knew she was right. The censure was gentle, but there.
“Whatever,” Katie Sue said, glossing over the missed communication. “Less than ten minutes elapsed between Gantry’s escape and the attack on the church.”
“And you got there anyway,” Jett said.
June rubbed an ache in her chest. How could everyone be so nice to her when she’d screwed up so badly? Her gaze floated to Sam’s evergreen tree, so beautifully decorated. The menorah on the mantel, the nativity scene near the archway, the Yule log burning in the fireplace. Samantha Mycroft embraced and celebrated any and all faiths, whereas right now June herself had little to no faith in anything.
She’d never felt so bleak.
“Obviously Marin bewitched Gantry into setting the church on fire,” Sam said. Always calm, always stoic Sam.
June nodded. “He seemed, for lack of a more imaginative term, possessed. I’m betting his actions and words were not his own.”
“‘The Devil came to me and bid me serve him,’” Baz recited.
“The exact phrase used in 1641 by one of Salem’s accused citizens that sparked the witch hunts,” Jett said. He met everyone’s questioning expressions with confidence. “I may be a selkie and committed to the sea, but I know my history, and I love Salem and I’ll do what I can to protect the innocent.”
Katie Sue leaned into her longtime lover. “Is it any wonder I adore this man?”
The ache in June’s chest intensified as she observed the genuine affection burning between Katie Sue and Jett, Sam and Daniel and Roe and Vaughn. All three couples had pledged their love on Christmas Eve. All three were engaged, even though “mixed marriages” between Keepers and Others were generally frowned upon.
Once upon a time, June had envisioned herself in just such a mixed marriage with Baz as her husband.
Then again, they’d been under a spell.
Then that spell had been lifted, and she’d spent the past eight years resenting that deception as well as Baz’s betrayal. She’d rationalized their bewitched affair by deciding she’d confused lust for love. So why was she wondering what it would be like waking up in his arms every morning? Why was she aching for his kiss? Why in the universe was her heart twisting with romantic yearnings?
She chanced his charismatic gaze and nearly melted from the intensity of his regard. His passionate regard.
June squeezed her thighs together, suppressing the sensual tingle. But she knew all too well that scratching the itch would only complicate her new position as Keeper. It wasn’t as if she stood a snowball’s chance of finding the same eternal bliss as her cousins.
Men like Baz didn’t commit to a one and only, let alone forever.
Men like Baz, bad boys to the bone, were constantly on the prowl.
Hence him kissing the stars out of Lolita Dorring on the same day he�
�d gone through the breakup with June. Just thinking about it iced her heart.
“Earth to June.”
She blinked at Sam. “What?”
“We were discussing the possibility of rampant paranoia.”
“Anyone with an interest in local history would recognize Gantry’s ravings just as we did,” Roe said. “Imagine what the media could do with this.”
Vaughn nodded. “Between the darkness and Gantry’s rant, someone’s bound to suggest that the Devil is back in Salem.”
“Your rogue warlock is stoking the fire for hysteria and a twenty-first century witch hunt,” Daniel said to Baz.
“Turning humans and maybe even Others against Wiccans and magicals—anyone they associate with the word ‘witch.’” Baz dragged a hand over his stubbled jaw. “If we’re hunted and persecuted, or even just run out of town, what do you think will happen to tourism?”
“Shouldn’t you be more concerned about the welfare of your people?” Roe asked.
“Wait,” Sam said, scooting to the edge of her seat. “I see where Baz is going with this. Without the witch element, tourism—and the whole economy of the town—would suffer.”
“Think of the businesses that could go under,” said Katie Sue. “Witch House, Nightmare Gallery, the House of the Seven Gables...”
“And that’s just the tip of the iceberg,” June whispered.
“Marin isn’t simply determined to destroy the local coven,” Baz said. “He intends to destroy Salem.”
An eerie silence fell over the parlor. Even the snap and crackle of the Yule log ceased.
Sam visibly shook off a chill. “I still can’t believe that monster invaded my body.”
Daniel pulled her closer. “Hard to believe Marin’s that powerful. Hopping from body to body to thwart detection.”
“The ultimate identity theft,” said Vaughn.
“He can’t linger long in any one person, though,” Baz said.
“Long enough to make me electrocute my own cousin,” Sam snapped.
“You didn’t zap me,” June countered. “Marin did.”
“Imagine if he snatched the body of a powerful Other,” Roe said. “Like Vaughn. Imagine the damage he could inflict.” She shuddered.
Vaughn squeezed her hand. “No one’s snatching this body, hon.”
“I’ll make sure of it,” Baz said, getting to his feet.
“A protection spell,” June said, mind whirling. “Yes, yes. Bless them all, Baz, and be quick about it.” She glanced at the clock on the mantel, then out the front window. Christmas morning. A day of birth, of miracles, yet no assurance of a rising sun. The only light came from Sam’s holiday decorations, the exterior lights casting an eerie glow on the snow-covered lawn.
Heart pounding, June pushed to her feet and buttoned her coat.
“Where are you going?” Sam asked.
“Stalking in a winter wonderland.”
Chapter 6
“I can’t believe it!” June slammed the receiver down on the phone on her uncle’s desk, feeling as if she had a lump of coal sitting in the pit of her stomach. “Not one of the local newspapers agreed to pull the story on Gantry. So what if they already went to press? Pull the plug. Call back the delivery trucks!”
“Even that wouldn’t help,” Baz said. “This story broke the moment bystanders whipped out their smartphones and connected to their social networks.” He gestured to the plasma-screen television, one of Artemis’s last purchases. “Look. It’s on the morning news.”
Blood boiling, June grabbed the remote and turned up the sound.
“The Devil came to me and bid me serve him!”
She cringed when the lightning bolt struck. She wasn’t exactly sad that Leo Gantry had gotten smoked, but she wasn’t happy that the death blow was being televised. “What is wrong with people? Children could be watching!”
Baz shushed her, his attention on the reporter.
June crossed her arms and stewed. She’d bolted out of Mycroft House intending to take the monster by the horns. Her plan had been simple. Shift into cat form and prowl the whole of Salem until she locked on Marin’s evil energy. She could do it. Now that she knew the warlock’s psychic scent, she could track him. She was sure of it. But Baz had caught up to her on Sam’s lawn, bringing her to a halt right next to that annoyingly cheerful, motion-activated, singing Santa. June had been forced to listen to Bing Crosby singing “You’re All I Want for Christmas” while Baz lectured her on the danger of shifting yet again given her compromised state. She couldn’t argue with his calm logic. She was exhausted and stressed and had yet to recover fully from the last transformation. She wasn’t sure how she’d survived Marin’s lightning bolt, except it must have been much weaker than the one he’d used on Gantry. She might not be so lucky at their next meeting.
Hence plan B. Minimizing the negative effect of the church fire and Gantry’s damning quote. Unfortunately, that idea had tanked, too. The television reporter was spinning the story just as June and Baz had feared, highlighting the old fears regarding witchcraft, possession and the Devil’s magic. She tied it all in with the darkness that had been enveloping Salem for the past few weeks, citing rising crime statistics and an increasing lack of goodwill toward men.
June cringed when the woman recycled ancient propaganda, speaking as though witchcraft and black magic were one and the same. Um, no. Apples and oranges! Spiritualism and Satanism!
“So much for fact-checking and journalistic integrity.” Fuming, she thumbed the remote and silenced the sensationalistic reporter.
“Witches and Wiccans have spent centuries trying to correct that error,” Baz said as he turned away from the blank screen. “Marin’s not only obliterating the joyful spirit of Christmas, he’s inciting social and religious intolerance.”
Deep inside, June believed a good, long, normal dose of daylight would chase away the wicked shadows and negativity. They just had to figure out how to make that happen. But despite all those years of studying mysticism and the occult, she couldn’t think of one similar previous case. Surely Marin couldn’t be that original. Surely a similar curse had been documented somewhere.
June stood up so fast that her desk chair tumbled backward. “There has to be a counter spell to this insidious darkness,” she said, while dashing for the stairs heading down to Twists & Tales. “Something in the Universal Coven’s Potion Encyclopedia or the Book of Spells. Something I missed. Something we’re both unaware of.”
She sailed down the narrow stairwell, missing the last step completely and nearly taking a header. Heart in her throat, she caught her balance and flicked on the main light switch, bathing the bookshop in a bright golden glow, illuminating every shelf, every book.
“If the answer isn’t in one of these two volumes—” she went on while opening the UCPE “—then perhaps it’s mentioned in one of the other books in the shop.”
June felt, rather than heard, Baz come up behind her. His charismatic aura shimmered and pulsed. She’d never been so aware of another person in her life. He moved closer and placed his hands on her shoulders—a comforting gesture offering strength and support. It would be so easy to turn into his arms. Easy and dangerous. Oh, how she wanted to tune out the curse and to tune in to Baz—his touch, his scent, his taste.
“Wanting to shift in order to search for Marin was a noble intention, Bug. Calling every newspaper in town in hopes of squashing a toxic story was inspired.”
“Except it didn’t work.”
“It will take you hours to scour every pertinent text in this room. You’re exhausted. Let me help.” He squeezed her shoulders, then stepped away and broke into a chant.
June whirled, always fascinated when Baz worked magic. In his jeans and flannel shirt, he looked more like a lumberjack than a wizard. Far more rugged and handsome than any Merlin ever portrayed on film. Her heart skipped as she noted the grace of his fingers as he beckoned book after book off the shelves. She deciphered his poetic chant—a reve
lation spell—in which he asked for specifics pertaining to the spell that had caused the darkness. At least fifty books now floated in midair, pages turning as though fanned by an invisible hand. He made it look so easy, yet she knew the extent of the focus required in raising power, releasing and directing energy, binding the spell. Within all those steps were more steps. He was undoubtedly in the throes of an adrenaline rush. June was in a state of wonder and admiration. Her heart warmed when he asked, as all Wiccans and noble magicals did, that the spell harm no one, ending with, “As I so will, so shall it be.”
Her breath caught with the last flutter of pages. She looked from the books to Baz, her stomach sinking when he shook his head. Another dead end. Whatever hope she’d harbored died as each book magically returned to its rightful place. “I don’t believe it.”
“We’ll figure it out, June. Have faith.”
“In what? In you?” The man who’d broken her heart? “In magic? In miracles?” Where was the metaphysical protection when her parents met their tragic end? Or, for that matter, poor Artemis? “In myself?” Someone who’d managed to alienate herself from her own coven. “Do you know how hard I’ve studied, Baz? How much knowledge is crammed into my brain? I swore I’d never again be deceived by witchcraft, and now this. My first challenge and it threatens the entire town.” Temples throbbing, she rubbed her hands over her eyes. “How can I not know the answer? Or at least have a clue as to how to defend my charges?”
He stepped forward and traced his finger over her furrowed brow. “What if the answer’s not here, but here?” He indicated her heart. A heart that had slowed to a dull thud.
“I feel numb, Baz. Dead. Hopeless.” She felt like the most ineffectual Keeper in the world, a disappointment to Others everywhere, as well as her family. She needed to feel something. Anything.
Instant gratification stood in front of her in all his big, bad glory.
June reached up and grabbed two fistfuls of Baz’s thick hair. She pulled him down and nipped his lower lip. “Make me feel, Baz. Make me want to fight for tomorrow.”
The Keepers: Christmas in Salem: Do You Fear What I Fear?The Fright Before ChristmasUnholy NightStalking in a Winter Wonderland (Harlequin Nocturne) Page 20
