Anna loved to tell her mother about facts, and Autumn couldn’t complain about it, since she loved that her daughter enjoyed learning. “I see,” Autumn said, looking over at Eamon. “Well, I don’t think that Mr. Cleary has an arranged marriage.”
Eamon smiled at her, but didn’t answer, instead taking a sip of his slushy.
As curious as she was, Autumn decided to drop the subject, clueing in to the fact that, this time, it wasn’t just that Eamon needed to be prompted before giving up information—it was that he didn’t want to talk about the subject. However much she wanted to know more about him, she wasn’t going to take the risk of prying and making him uncomfortable when he was being so generous with his time.
“Okay,” Autumn said, changing the subject abruptly and tugging on Rachel’s shirt to get her to focus on something other than her new doll. “Kiddos, Mommy has to go help out with something for a few hours,” she told them. “Ah-ah.” Autumn waved a finger under Rachel’s nose as the little girl began to pout. “None of that. As soon as I’m done, it’s you two and me for a picnic on the living room floor and a movie.”
“At our own house?” Anna asked. “We don’t have to drive back to Grandma and Grandpa’s?”
The truth was that Autumn didn’t know the answer to that question yet. There was no way that she was going to risk the girls being in the house overnight if Eamon didn’t say it was safe, but there was a big part of her that still held out hope that he would go to the clearing and come back with a report that there had all been some big misunderstanding.
She knew that she had received threats, and she wasn’t about to risk ignoring them and put her children’s lives in danger, but she just still couldn’t really believe that this was happening to her.
There had to be a mistake somewhere.
“Well, I don’t know,” Autumn told her little girl. “How about we see how we feel at the time?”
“I don’t want to drive again,” Rachel said, holding her new doll tightly. “I want to sleep in my own bed.”
Autumn stood up, gathering their trash. “I know, pumpkin. We’ll see, okay?” Glancing up at Tamara, she silently communicated with the woman to help her distract the girls, and without missing a beat, the older lady got up and began telling the girls everything they were going to do at the mall and how exciting all of the stores were.
As Autumn threw away their trash, she once again thanked the universe for giving her Tamara. Even though the woman had almost no idea what was happening, she didn’t ask questions or press for more. She just helped.
“Thank you,” Autumn said, walking back over to Tamara and giving her a tight hug. “You’re amazing, like always. What would I do without you?”
Tamara hugged her back hard. “Oh, don’t be silly. I’m glad to be useful. I just hope you and your new friend can figure out whatever is bothering you.”
“I hope so too.” Autumn squeezed Tamara’s hands and said goodbye to her girls, then she walked over to Eamon, who was loitering not far away, trying to appear busy as he stood in the middle of the mall food court, waiting for her. “I’m ready,” she told him. “I really appreciate your willingness to wait around. Ever since their dad died, and it’s just been us, they can sometimes be clingy. I work a lot, and it’s just not easy on any of us. They know these are my days off, and they get really jealous of my time. Anyway, thank you. Really.”
He smiled down at her and nodded. “They’re nice girls.”
“Thank you.” She looked back at them, smiling and shaking her head as she watched Anna and Rachel passionately debate some issue. They were always coming from different perspectives, those two. Rachel was emotional and impulsive, completely driven by the moment. Anna was forever logical and grounded, always trying to provide an alternative view. Autumn could only imagine the discussions those two might have as they grew older, and she couldn’t wait to be a part of it. “I think they are too,” she told Eamon, dragging her attention away from her daughters and growing more serious. “I really need you to figure out what’s going on, so I can keep them safe.”
“I will,” he said, promising her that as though it were a forgone conclusion in his mind. There simply was no space for failure. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Seven
Eamon
It took just over thirty minutes for Eamon to get from downtown Boston out to the suburbs, where Autumn directed him, but part of that was the terrible summer traffic in Boston. With the roads torn up and more people taking off early from work to enjoy the sunshine, rush hour was more like rush afternoon. Just a few months later, it might only take him fifteen minutes to get out to the peaceful-looking neighborhood with its similarly designed, New England-style houses, manicured lawns, and tidy sign, announcing their arrival in South Wind.
He parked the car in Autumn’s driveway, briefly taking note of the slightly rundown—but overall attractive—little house before turning his attention to the woods that ran along the south side of her neighborhood, beginning just across the main street. “So,” he said, nodding toward the trees. “Through there then.”
She nodded, biting her lip as she stared at the tree line. “Yeah. I run in there all the time, Eamon. Four times a week, if possible. Never less than three. And it’s often at night, because that’s the only time I feel good about being away from the girls—after they go to bed and Tamara can stay with them. I wasn’t being irresponsible. At least…I don’t think I was. And now…I just can’t believe this.”
Something told him to touch her shoulder lightly, so he did, and he was surprised at the warmth radiating from her slight body. She turned to face him and a whisper of heat moved from her and into him. It burned somewhere low in his gut, and he felt oddly entranced by her standing there in front of him, his big hand on her slender shoulder and their gazes connected. Eamon swallowed hard, unused to reacting to a woman in such a way. He was attracted to plenty of women, and he dated casually here and there, though not as much as his friends. He knew what it felt like to feel chemistry with a woman, even instant chemistry. This felt different, and that scared him, because Autumn was the absolute last person he needed to be involved with.
Autumn stepped back, and from the look on her face, he thought she might have been feeling something similar. That recognition gave him the thrill all over again, but it also made him cautious at the same time.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Autumn whispered, licking her dry lips.
“I don’t know,” Eamon said honestly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I don’t know,” she echoed, prying her eyes away from him. “I just—obviously my emotions are high. I’m on edge. That’s all.” Putting distance between them, she walked away from her driveway, heading toward the entrance sign. “The trail starts there,” she said, pointing across the main road that passed the neighborhood. “See it? I run the same way every time, following along the path, and staying left at every fork. That’s what I did that night—what I always do. But then, at some point, I veered off the path, following the light I was seeing from the fire. I think it was somewhere between the second and third fork in the path. I’m not sure I can guide you better than that.” She looked at him over her shoulder though she didn’t make direct eye contact with him. “Is that going to be good enough?”
Eamon walked toward her. “I’ll find it,” he promised her. “That’s what I do. You’re staying here?”
“Yes,” Autumn said, looking as though she was unsure about what she should do with her hands or where she should look. “Yes. I don’t want to go back in there. I don’t want anything to do with whatever is in that place, or whoever those people are. I’m not going to borrow trouble by poking around.”
Eamon smiled slightly. “You just want me to.”
Her eyes widened, and she finally looked at him again. “That’s your job! You investigate. And you said that you wanted to go in, and that you would help me—that’s the only reason—”
&n
bsp; Reaching out, Eamon held a finger against her lips, shaking his head with a faint smile. “I was teasing you. I’m not good at it.”
“Oh. No, you aren’t.”
His finger was on her lips, and they were staring at one another again. Autumn eased back slightly, just enough so that his finger skimmed down her lips and chin, then dropped away from her altogether. Eamon took a step back, wondering why he kept reaching out to touch her and why he couldn’t seem to keep the boundaries that were usually so easy for him to maintain with his clients.
“I’ll be back,” he told her. “Stay inside.”
“If I you’re not back in an hour, then what do I do? I don’t even have your cell phone number.”
Stopping, he pulled out his phone and exchanged numbers with her. “I’ll text you updates. If an hour goes by and you haven’t heard from me, then call the Connelly Security number and let someone know.” He offered her a reassuring smile. “But it’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.”
Not giving her a chance to respond, Eamon turned and headed for the forest. He was almost glad to get some space from Autumn, and he hoped that when he saw her again, there would be less chemistry between them. From the moment she’d walked into the agency, he’d been ultra-aware of her, and it would be a lot more convenient if that feeling went away—and fast.
The best thing he could do, he figured, was focus on the problem at hand, and as he walked into the forest, he focused all of his senses on picking up any unusual vibrations that might be lurking amongst the trees. Eamon was particularly sensitive to such things. Just a few months back, when Moira had first met Grady, and she had asked for Eamon’s help in discovering what was hanging about in the vault beneath Grady’s office building. He’d had an almost violent reaction to the supernatural forces at play there. He felt such things far more strongly than the rest of his generation of the Dragon Clan, and if there was a supernatural force at work in the forest, he knew he would soon feel it.
Though he would never say so to Autumn, he knew there was every chance that what she had seen was connected to the supernatural world. Fires and chanting and hooded robes certainly hinted in that direction. But her own assumption could be right too—it could be a group or cult of some sort carrying out a ritual in the forest that they didn’t want anyone else to be privy to. That in and of itself wasn’t that worrisome, but the fact that Autumn had been threatened definitely was.
Eamon moved slowly through the trees, his eyes moving from side to side as he walked along the trail. Dressed in all black, he stuck out like a sore thumb in the forest, and given that he was making no attempt to quiet his footsteps or blend in, he was sure that if there were people living in or walking through the woods, they were well aware of his presence. That didn’t bother him. Whatever Autumn had seen, he was more than capable of taking it on if need be.
About twenty minutes into his walk, Eamon came to the second fork in the path that Autumn had described. He stayed to the left, looking for any sign of a clearing. There was comfort in the fact that he hadn’t picked up on a supernatural presence in the forest, and he gradually settled into the conclusion that this was some strange cult doing God-knew-what at night. If that was the case, he didn’t think that the threats against Autumn were all that serious, but rather meant to make sure that she didn’t go talking.
Ahead of him, he saw an opening in the trees and he headed for it, fully expecting to walk into it and see nothing at all. But as Eamon approached the break in the trees, he caught sight of a faint shimmer in the air. Unsure if he was seeing correctly, he looked again, but saw nothing but clear air and blue sky filtering through the forestation.
More cautious now, he slowed his approach. Eamon recognized the signs of a forcefield when he saw one, and that glimmer he’d caught—there it was again.
He stopped in his tracks, staring at the place where he’d seen the ripple in nothing at all. As the seconds ticked by, he counted them in his head, and when he got to twenty-two, the ripple appeared again.
There was no mistaking it. The clearing that Autumn had stumbled into the other day was now protected by some kind of force, and there was no telling what would happen if Eamon tried to breach the force. There were a million questions circling in his head, but his first task was to determine what kind of shield he was dealing with—then he could figure out when it had been erected and why it was there.
Cautiously, he stooped down and picked up a stick from the forest floor. Aiming surely, he tossed the stick right for the ripple he’d seen, holding his breath in case there was some kind of explosion. Or in case the stick came flying right back at him.
But the stick—it was more of a twig, really—passed straight through the opening and fell harmlessly onto the grass just beyond. There were no sparks, no more ripples, no sounds, no…anything.
Eamon was suspicious. He knew what he’d seen, but if there was a protective force around the clearing, then the stick should have been affected by it. Unless…
It was possible that the shield wasn’t a protective force but one designed to hide what was happening in the clearing from passersby. Perhaps it was an invisibility force of some kind, in which case…Eamon should be able to walk right through it and see whatever was being hidden from him. Such shields were only good for distraction—not protection.
He walked very carefully toward the opening, and he reached out one hand toward the tree, slowly letting his fingers cross the invisible barrier. As his fingertips passed through, he felt something grab onto his hand and tug him forward. Eamon pulled back with all of his might, but as he struggled futilely against the unseen power that had a hold of him, losing ground with every second, he realized his mistake.
If it had been an invisibility shield, he wouldn’t have been able to see the stick when it landed. With that crystal-clear realization playing through his thoughts, Eamon lost his battle with the force on the other side of the shield and fell straight through into the clearing.
Chapter Eight
Autumn
Almost as soon as Eamon disappeared into the tree line, Autumn regretted not going with him. She still didn’t want to risk seeing any of the people from the clearing or getting any further involved than she already was, but the waiting process was agonizing. She was used to being active, moving from one crisis to the next, putting out fires, and juggling all of the balls in the air at the same time. Pacing the small porch at the front of her house, biting one thumbnail, and staring at the all-too-still forest made time slow to a near standstill, and every time she checked her watch, only a handful of minutes had passed.
If she was in the forest, at least she wouldn’t be standing there waiting—she’d be doing something.
Several times, Autumn considered putting on her running gear and going after him, knowing that she would soon overtake him if he was walking and she was running. But every time she was about to make the decision to just go for it, she pulled back, recognizing the risks of going in there alone and unsure of what waited in the trees.
Only half an hour had passed when she finally sat down on the porch swing and pulled out her phone, fiddling with it as she flipped from her text messages to her call log to her internet browser. She wanted to text Eamon and at least get an update, but she didn’t want to seem paranoid or impatient or needy. The air between them had been thick when he left, and Autumn hadn’t allowed herself to spend too much time considering why that had been the case.
Much better to just not go there. After all, the man was supposedly engaged. Or something.
Her phone vibrated in her hand, and she stared at the screen, waiting for Eamon’s name to flash. But it was Tamara’s name instead, and Autumn answered quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hi. I know you’re in the middle of doing something at the house and you don’t want the girls around, but Rachel just got sick in the bathroom. I think she really needs to be home in bed.”
Autumn stood up from the porch swing. “She thr
ew up? Oh God. Was it bad?”
“It was sudden,” Tamara told her. “She’s okay, but she’s definitely coming down with something. She’s sweating and shaky, and she still doesn’t feel well.”
“Okay—of course,” Autumn said. “Bring them home. I’m here at the house, and I have everything she needs. I’m sorry that happened and that you’re exposed to germs now.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Tamara replied. “As long as she gets to feeling better. I’m loading them into my car now, and we’ll be home in about twenty minutes hopefully. Depending on traffic.”
Autumn reached into her purse and fished out her keys, unlocking her front door as she held the phone between her chin and her shoulder. “Tell her that I’m sorry she’s sick and that I’m getting everything nice and ready for her here. All her favorite things. And that we don’t have to go anywhere else tonight, or until she’s feeling better. Give her a hug for me.”
“I will.”
“Is Anna okay?”
“So far, so good,” Tamara said. “But Rachel’s was very sudden. She started heaving, and luckily we were close to a bathroom. One minute she was fine, and the next—well, not as fine.”
Autumn felt a wave of sympathy for her little girl, who was always so full of energy and life. Rachel hated being sick because it meant she couldn’t zip here, there, and everywhere, getting into new things all the time. “Okay, I’ll see you in a few minutes. Drive safely.”
“See you soon.”
Hanging up the phone, Autumn quickly busied herself around the house, getting out the proper medications from her stash, putting fresh sheets on Rachel’s bed and turning down the covers, moving the little TV from the living room to the nightstand by Rachel’s bed so that she could vegetate to take her mind off of the sickness, and putting all of her youngest daughter’s favorite stuffed animals in a row on the side of the bed that jutted up against the bedroom wall.
Anna and Rachel usually shared a room, but Anna would have to sleep with Autumn in her bed, unless she got sick too, so Autumn moved her older daughter’s necessities into her own bedroom and changed the sheets on her bed for good measure while she was at it. A few minutes later, she had laundry going, a dehumidifier running in the house, and a stack of DVDs waiting on the kitchen counter for Rachel to choose from. It was only then that she realized that she hadn’t thought about Eamon being in the forest since Tamara’s call, and she checked her watch, calculating how long he had been in there.
Celtic Dragons Page 53