“Hello to you, too,” Siobhan said, pushing aside her laptop and grabbing a binder from the front of her desk. She tossed it toward him. “I’ve been keeping records of everything I’ve found, and you’re going to be amazed. I’m reasonably sure that I have tracked a pattern of ill-intentioned magical activity in the area for the past three hundred years.”
He opened the binder, beginning to flip through the clippings. “That’s not that surprising, given how much supernatural activity there is around here, right?”
“No, but there’s a signature that this group uses,” Siobhan told him. “You kept mentioning the word sequence, right?”
“Yes, Nova uses it all the time. And whoever I spoke to in the forest did the same thing.”
“Well, I started picking up a pattern when I was looking through old newspaper archives, and I made copies of all reported cases in which there has been some sort of unexplained happening … where a number has been left behind as some sort of unsolvable clue.”
Eamon continued to turn the pages in the binder, scanning headline after headline. The clue wasn’t always obvious, but on some stories, he spotted it right away.
Three missing persons reported, last seen at 4:00 at the corner of fifth and Mandarin.
Business reports 1300 dollars stolen days after hiring fourteen new employees. Owner blames robbery on employees looking for fifteen minutes of fame.
Man dies mysteriously, just thirty-seven hours post routine operation. Family suing for 38,000 dollars—their hospital fees.
“You wouldn’t notice,” Eamon said. “Not if you were just looking at collections of headlines. But if you’re paying attention, these read strangely. Why is this owner’s quote here in the headline? Since when is there an exact time that three missing persons were last seen—one so definitive that they report it?”
“They don’t read right,” Siobhan agreed. “But they all have the sequence. I found these when I started doing cross reference searches through our newspaper article databases, looking for words like ‘missing’ or “mysterious’ or ‘unexplained.’”
“That’s a shitload of work.”
“I haven’t been doing anything else,” Siobhan told him, getting up and rounding to his side of the desk so she could look at the binder with him. “There are these sorts of cases—unsolved, unexplained incidents—that occur regularly. A few a year, perhaps, though there are some years that are slower than others. There’s about five years in the 1920s that I can’t find any incidents for at all. But there’s a record of activity, Eamon. It’s there. This group that we’re dealing with—they’ve been here for a long time.”
“Since 1692.”
Siobhan shook her head. “My records don’t go back that far, but maybe.”
“How have we never come across them before then?”
“Maybe we have, and we just don’t know it,” Siobhan suggested. “There have been cases where we haven’t been able to explain why something happened. Or maybe they never crossed paths with us. Maybe they were laying low—avoiding holding rituals in the middle of the woods. Doing a better job of staying on the downlow. Now that their time is approaching, they’re taking more risks.”
He looked up at her. “How did you know that their time was approaching?”
“I could hear you.”
As a general rule, they weren’t supposed to use their supernatural hearing to eavesdrop on each other’s private conversations, but it did happen now and again, not always on purpose. Eamon didn’t blame Siobhan for being curious enough to listen in on his report to Ronan, and there was nothing that he wanted to hide from her. So he just nodded, moving past the issue.
“Here’s the problem,” he told her. “How do we use this information to figure out who these people are?” It was a rhetorical question, and one that he pondered as he got up and began to pace Siobhan’s office. “We have a record of their activities. We know that they use the woods by Autumn’s house for one of their meeting places or headquarters. But we still have no idea who these people are, and with their shields, we can’t observe them unless they want us to. And they don’t. We need to do a location analysis on them and see if we can pinpoint a region of the city where these things happen more often.”
“I did that,” Siobhan said, pulling up her computer and opening a database that she’d had minimized at the bottom of the screen.
He sat down beside her, looking over her shoulder. “This is all over Massachusetts.”
“They work all over Massachusetts,” Siobhan pointed out. “Mostly it’s here in the Boston Metropolitan area, but not always. There’s a concentration of activity near Autumn’s address, though she’s on the edge of the circle. From her house, moving west, you would be in the thickest part of coven influence, if we’re right and that’s what it is.”
“The location checks out,” Eamon said. “It’s what we have to go on for right now. The problem is still the same though—who are we looking for? And how do we fight them?” He looked up at Siobhan, shaking his head. “We’re powerful, but it’s different. How do I combat their magic? Nova could keep me sitting in a chair without lifting a finger. They can block my ability to shift. We’ve never taken on a coven of witches before, and now we’re starting with the most powerful and oldest coven in the state?” He sat back in his chair, dragging both hands over his hair as he leaned back, stared at the ceiling, and working through the problem in his head. “What we need is to level the playing field. We need a witch.”
Siobhan winced. “I don’t know I like that. You know our history with witches. It’s because of a witch that our ancestors were cursed into the dragon form to begin with.”
“And you know that they figured out a way to overcome that curse and control the dragon form,” Eamon pointed out. “We have to do the same thing again. We have to overcome their magic by taking control of it. If we do that, not only can we figure out who they are, we can fight them.”
She was looking at him curiously. “You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard you talk this much. Or been this invested.”
“The state is at stake.”
Siobhan rolled her eyes at him. “You know what I mean. There’s something different about this case for you, and I think it’s Autumn. Maybe Ronan is right.”
“I’m going to talk to Isabelle again,” Eamon said, not addressing Siobhan’s statement. It wasn’t passing his notice that each of his friends saw something between Autumn and him, and he knew that he would have to deal with it sooner rather than later, but first he had to deal with the threat facing them.
“Who’s Isabelle?”
“She’s a client from several years ago,” Eamon said, getting to his feet. “She’s a witch, and I know I can trust her—mainly because she’s not very good and has no idea what’s going on with any of this.”
Siobhan leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. “Sounds like a good option …”
“It’s my only option,” Eamon pointed out. “At least for now. Do me a favor? Keep researching. Anything you find—anything—I want to know about it.”
She offered a salute. “I’m on it. But in return, keep an open mind, okay?”
“It’s open,” Eamon assured her. “Thanks.” He left the office, heading out for the main door, which he reached just as Autumn was pulling it open. As it always did, the sight of her face made something shift inside him, as though it was falling into place. When she smiled at him, he smiled back, and when she moved into his arms, wrapping hers around him, he hugged her back, the scent of her shampoo sweet to his senses.
“Hi,” she murmured. “The kids are safely away.”
“Good.” Eamon pressed a kiss to her hair, unable to help the small gesture. “You’re just in time to come with me to visit Isabelle. She’s going to give us the tools we need to fight these people off.”
“Isabelle, the witch who hasn’t practiced most of her life.”
He looked down at her as she tilted her chin up and tuck
ed a piece of hair behind her ear. “That’s the one. We work with what we’ve got, right?”
“We work with what we’ve got.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Autumn
The woman who greeted them at the door—Isabelle, Autumn could only assume—was not happy to see them. She tried to shut the door in their faces, but Eamon easily pushed it open, walking into the house uninvited. Autumn followed, though somewhat hesitantly. Isabelle looked angry, and whether she was an incredibly accomplished witch or not, she was still a witch, and Autumn had enough of those upset with her already.
“What do you think you’re doing here, walking into my house?” Isabelle hissed at Eamon. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble already? It’s out in all the Boston witch circles that I helped you find Nova Oliveira, and now I’m an outcast! I’m shunned! Someone even threatened me!”
Eamon reacted calmly, as he always did. “Well, then, you have nothing to lose by helping us some more.”
“I absolutely will not.”
Sitting down on her couch, Eamon crossed his legs and motioned for Autumn to join him. “You will, Isabelle, because I’m not giving you a choice. I don’t like to give orders, and my mother taught me to respect my elders, like anyone else. But I’m telling you that if you don’t help us, we’ll die and so will you. And so might most of Boston.”
Isabelle’s face turned red, and she looked almost apoplectic. “Now you’re threatening me too! Wait until I tell Craig about this. He is so wrong about you!”
“He’s not threatening you,” Autumn said gently, drawing on her years of experience in the ER, calming down frantic, angry, and scared patients and family. “I promise he’s not. We would never want to hurt you, Isabelle. But there are people who want to hurt all of us, and he’s just saying that if you don’t help him stop them, then you’ll end up hurt too. And we don’t want that. That’s why we’re here.”
Isabelle settled somewhat, but her expression was still skeptical as she studied Autumn. “And who are you, exactly?”
Smiling, Autumn took a step forward and held out her hand. “Sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Autumn Pruitt, and I’m working with Eamon. See, the people we’re fighting against threatened me and they’ve attacked my daughters several times, all because I was running in the woods and accidentally saw something I shouldn’t have. I don’t want any part of what they’re doing, and imagine my surprise just at finding out that there are things like … witches!” Autumn threw her hands up, laughing at herself. “I was in shock! I thought I was crazy.”
“My husband had a hard time adjusting too,” Isabelle said.
“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Autumn put her hand gently on the older woman’s arm, connecting with her. “But now here I am, and all I want to do is help keep my girls safe and the town safe and I don’t know what I’m doing—like at all. But Eamon said that you’re our best chance for figuring out how to fight them, and I would just really, really appreciate it if you would help us.”
The tears that came to Autumn’s eyes weren’t in any way affected or calculated. She was just scared for her children.
“I’ve had to send my girls away with my parents to keep them safe, and I miss them already. If something happens to them, I don’t know what I’ll do. I know that it’s dangerous for you to help us, and there might be consequences, but I promise you that you would be on the right side of this fight, Isabelle. And you would be saving me.”
When Autumn finished her plea, Isabelle threw her arms around her and squeezed her tight. “Oh honey, don’t you worry. I know what it’s like to be a mother, and you just love those babies more than life itself, don’t you? Of course I’ll help you. Don’t you worry.”
Gratefully, Autumn hugged the woman back, then she opened her eyes, meeting Eamon’s across the room. He looked amazed at the change in Isabelle’s attitude, but Autumn wasn’t surprised at all. She knew that most people just needed a little connection and a good reason and they would put themselves on the line for each other when push came to shove.
Eamon was Autumn’s hero in many ways. He was strong, fast, smart, kind, caring, devoted, and so many other things that she valued. But communication was not his strong point. Luckily, it was hers, which was just one more reason they made a great team.
Autumn held Eamon’s eyes the whole time that Isabelle hugged her, and she saw the change in his gaze as it softened from surprise to admiration and from admiration to something even sweeter. She wasn’t entirely sure, but Autumn began to wonder if they weren’t standing in a stranger’s living room, preparing for the fight of their lives, and falling in love with each other at the same time.
“What can I do?” Isabelle asked, pulling away from Autumn, totally unaware that in the past ten seconds so much had happened between them. “I’m ready to help, but I don’t know how.”
“Eamon will tell you,” Autumn said, moving to sit down beside him. “He’s going to get us both through this.”
“Should I get Craig?” Isabelle asked. “He’s playing golf today.”
Eamon shook his head, leaning forward—a clear signal that he was in work mode. “No, let the man play in peace while he still can. Here’s what we need, Isabelle. We need you to identify every single person you know of who is a witch. After that, I need address information on them. I need you to work up brief bios on each person—anything you know. Identify the ones who you think could be involved in dark magic. That’s one step, okay?”
“That’s just one step?”
“Yes.” Eamon didn’t stop to reassure her. “Then I need you to show me what you can do in terms of blocking shields. Can you put spells on us that allow us to repel magic? Can you track magic? Can you give us objects that are powerful? Can you somehow transfer any of your ability to us?”
Already, Isabelle was overwhelmed again, the calm that Autumn had brought about gone in the face of Eamon’s rapid-fire demands. “I—I—you know that I’m not that experienced!”
Autumn reached out and touched her arm. “I know it all sounds like a lot, but we’re just going to take one step at a time, okay? We’ll make a list, like a to-do list. Deal with one task at a time. If you can’t do it, then that’s okay. Maybe you have a friend who can. You must have friends who are witches, right?”
“Yes…”
Smiling, Autumn nodded encouragingly. “Perfect. So if you have a friend who you really trust and who might be more experienced than you are, then maybe we can work on bringing them in to split up the work. Many hands make light work, right?”
Isabelle nodded, licking her lips. “Yes, that’s true.”
“Good,” Autumn said, praising the woman. “It’s not so scary then.”
“You will need to put some sort of spell over your house to protect it from a magical attack,” Eamon told the woman. “It won’t take long for word to get to Nova that you’re helping us.’
Autumn winced as Isabelle’s face went white. “Let’s get a few of your friends here for support and to get that spell going. That’s something concrete we can do first. Why don’t you go make some calls?”
As Isabelle hurried from the room, Autumn turned to Eamon, taking his hand and a deep breath. “Eamon …”
“I know, I know,” he said. “Tact.”
“A little would be good.”
“It’s not my strong suit.”
Autumn smiled slightly, tilting her head. “Not your strong suit?”
“Okay, I suck at it,” he admitted, flopping back against the couch. “You, on the other hand, are fantastic with her. I can see why sick people like having you around. You’re very calming. And enchanting. And kind. Actually, you’re kind of wonderful.”
Butterflies flew about in her stomach, and Autumn bit her lip, looking into Eamon’s intent gaze. “So are you.”
“My friends all say that I have feelings for you.”
Autumn swallowed over the lump in her throat, suddenly more nervous than she had been while tal
king to Isabelle about the dangers facing them. “Are they right?”
“Yes.”
That one simple word sent tremors through her. It was exactly what she wanted to hear, because over the past few days, it had become crystal clear to her that, as insane as it was, she was falling for Eamon in a way that she never had before. Even with Robert, she hadn’t fallen this quickly or been so connected. “Eamon …”
“There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t let myself feel that,” Eamon said, moving closer to her on the couch. “You have no idea, Autumn. There are so, so many reasons. Your girls are two big ones. Their lives …”
“They like you,” she whispered, not understanding the pain in his eyes. “Eamon, they trust you. They need a man in their lives. I know that dating someone with two kids is hard, but I wouldn’t make demands on you except to be kind to them.”
“I’m not worried about the demands,” Eamon said, lifting his hand to her face and stroking his thumb along her cheek. “Autumn, are you saying you’d want to be with me?”
“Yes.”
The change that came over his face was immediate, and he leaned forward and kissed her hard. “I’m just going to hold onto that for now,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “It’s more complicated than just yes, but for right now, I’m just going to hold onto that.”
Autumn started to speak, to plead with him to tell her what it was that she knew he was keeping from her, but Isabelle walked back into the room, her hands clutched together. “I called someone I trust. She’s on her way over now.”
Instead of pleading with Eamon, Autumn turned to Isabelle, offering an encouraging smile. “That’s great, Isabelle. Thank you.”
Once again, the conversation turned to business and the upcoming steps they all needed to take to protect themselves, and Autumn joined in on the discussion, carefully fulfilling her role of keeping Isabelle calm and focused. But in the back of her mind, she was still thinking about Eamon’s words and their implications.
He felt for her the way she felt for him, and it was powerful on both parts. She didn’t doubt that. But there was something holding him back—a secret he was keeping from her. As much as she trusted Eamon with her life, and more importantly, with her daughters’ lives, it made her nervous that he would hide something from her. Whatever it was, it was clearly bad enough that he worried it might change how she felt about him.
Celtic Dragons Page 64
