Hannah (The Coven's Grove Chronicles #2)

by Virginia Hunter

  The sun was just setting on the horizon, as Dominic spoke the last words over Nancy’s grave. The cozy glade where they buried her was on a hilltop on the southern portion of Coven’s Grove’s 160 acres. The view was beautiful here among the surrounding trees. Dominic had complimented Hannah on her choice for Nancy’s final resting place. Everyone was there except for Rhea. Miranda had asked if she would go out to the drill site where Kevin was killed, and see if she could find any evidence they might use in the future against the gas and oil conglomerate.

  Hannah had already taken care of the assassins. Their bodies were now part of Coven’s Grove, buried deep within the forest. She was exhausted from the effort, and was ready to go back to her cottage to sleep for the next year.

  “There will be more attempts on on our lives,” Miranda whispered in her ear, as Dominic recounted his memories of Nancy. “This victory was only temporary.”

  “I know,” Hannah replied softly. She had come to terms with the killing. She would do what was necessary to protect her own. “I will take steps to strengthen our defenses.”

  “We all will.”

  “What of the police?” Hannah asked. Detective Graham White had come out to the mansion again to question Miranda about shots being fired. Having been called twice in one week about guns couldn’t be a good thing in the eyes of authority.

  “I assured him that if there was any shooting, it wasn’t near the house.”

  Hannah glanced at Miranda. “You didn’t wipe his memory of the incident?”

  “No.”

  Hannah frowned. “Why not?”

  “The detective is a null...” That last word hung in the air like the stink of stale meat.

  Hannah found herself at a loss for words. Nulls were rare, if not creatures of legend. They were extremely dangerous to witches, as they could not be affected by magic—at all. It was suspected in the history books that some of the most prolific witch hunters were nulls, but there had been no documented proof.

  “I don’t think he realizes what he is,” Miranda continued. “Don’t worry. The situation is under control, for now.”

  That didn’t make Hannah feel any less concerned. The fact that he was law enforcement, and not easily manipulated, posed its own set of problems. She didn’t challenge Miranda, however; this wasn’t the time or the place.

  Once Dominic finished his eulogy, he looked at Hannah and then Miranda. “So, what happens now?”

  There was a bit of a pause as Nathan limped over with Monica’s help to join Dominic. The three of them stood in silence, waiting for the matriarch’s answer.

  “There is a debt of gratitude I owe the three of you,” Miranda said. “You fought alongside us, and I’m grateful for that. Trust is a hard thing to come by, especially for people like Hannah and myself, so it’s important to keep the friends we can.” Miranda spared a glance at Hannah before continuing. “Dominic, I hope you decide to stay. I know it would mean a lot to Hannah, and to Coven’s Grove as well.”

  Hannah could feel the heat build in her cheeks as Monica gave her a knowing smirk.

  “As for you two,” Miranda looked at Nathan and Monica. “You are free to go, and welcome to return if every the need arise.”

  “That’s it?” Monica asked. “You’re not going to cast a spell or something, so we won’t talk?”

  Miranda raised a dark brow. “Do I need to?”

  “We’ll be going now,” Nathan said as he hobbled into Monica. “Come along, dear...”

  Hannah almost laughed as the pair hurried out of the glade.

  “I should see them off,” Dominic said with a smile.

  “The information you’ve learned about Dongle Gas & Oil,” Miranda began before he could leave. “It should be made public.”

  Dominic nodded.

  “The information you’ve learned about us… should remain private,” Miranda finished.

  “Agreed.” Dominic walked up to Hannah, and placed his hands on her hips. “Whatever happens from this point on, I’m with you.”

  Hannah laughed. “You better be.”

  Dominic leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.

  It was a dream fulfilled to have someone care for her after the years of being single and withdrawn. Hannah wasn’t going to waste the good fortune that had been bestowed upon her. She would make time for him—time for them.

  The kiss ended, too soon for Hannah’s liking, and then Dominic hurried after his friends.

  “I’m happy for you,” Miranda said, placing a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “You deserve his love.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Hannah replied, still tingling from the kiss. “But I’m taking it.”

  “As you should,” Miranda said. “Life can be too short.”

  Rhea suddenly walked out of the woods dressed in leggings and a tight fitting t-shirt. Her straight, black hair was tied back in a low-hanging knot. A frown distorted her otherwise attractive features.

  “Anything?” Miranda asked as the Native American woman stopped a few feet away.

  Rhea shook her head. “Nothing. Not a drop of blood or even a shell casing. The site is gone. All signs of the equipment, tents, and barrels have been covered.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised,” Miranda said, a bit disheartened. “I had hoped there would be at least something we could use.”

  Hannah had been hoping that too. They needed some form of mundane defense on top of the magical. Something that regular folks could get behind and support.

  “I’ll keep looking,” Rhea said.

  “We can help,” Alix said. “We want to help.” She and Troy had been pretty quiet during the process of burying the bodies and laying Nancy to rest. Hannah had almost forgotten they were there, and was afraid that the whole incident had pushed the couple away from Coven’s Grove.

  “I hope this ordeal hasn’t weighed too much on your decision to join us,” Hannah said. “It’s the first time anything like that has happened.”

  “But, most assuredly, it won’t be the last,” Miranda commented. “I don’t want any misunderstandings about the dangers of being a witch, even if we have strength in numbers. We have powerful enemies in the natural world and the supernatural.”

  Hannah raised her brow at the matriarch. “Great selling points, Miranda.”

  The matriarch smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “Honesty is the best policy. The more bitter, the better.”

  Hannah sighed. Miranda was right, even if it spoiled their chances of Alix joining. The girl deserved the truth. It’s what Hannah herself would want. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sugarcoat our situation or the potential dangers we face. But this was the first time we’ve been attacked here on the estate.”

  “You guys are horrible salesmen,” Alix said with a smirk as she crossed her tattooed arms. “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel embarrassed for you, but the fact is, the attack did make an impact on our decision. More than that, though, the past few months here have been life changing.” She glanced up at Troy and smiled. He gave her a nod, and she leveled her gaze on Miranda. “I want to be part of the coven. We want to stay.”

  Lights blinked on the fax machine, and a low buzzing noise hummed away, as the waxy paper slowly inched out onto the receiving tray. Graham White leaned against the wall, scanning the office as he waited for the printout. It was late, so hardly anyone was there, but it was always good to keep an eye on the surroundings, especially in his line of work. Not that he expected any criminals to barge into a police station with guns blazing. His wariness was more about who within the department might be watching, and who that person reported to.

  His mind wandered, as it usually did when a “hurry-up-and-wait” situation occurred during his work. As of late, his thoughts drifted to Miranda Baris and her estate. The woman was one of the most beautiful he had ever seen. Not just physical beauty, but the way she handled herself was mesmerizing in and of itself. From the few times they had spoken, he gathered that she was qu
ite sophisticated and intelligent, a dangerous combination.

  Graham scratched his chin. He knew she was hiding something. Two reported incidents of gunfire on or near her property within the span of a few days was enough to put a red flag in her file. Too bad. He might have actually attempted a relationship with her, but not now. Not after this latest bit of information he’d put together.

  The fax machine finally spit out the transmission.

  Graham grabbed the rolled up piece of paper, not bothering to look at it. He went straight to his office and closed the door. The overhead light was off, but an old gooseneck lamp lit up his desk well enough for his needs. He took a seat in his leather, tall-back chair and opened his file drawer. Within its secret confines, the drawer held a bottle of Jack Daniels. Just for emergencies.

  Graham cracked open the seal, and poured himself a shot glass. After he slammed it back, he poured another. After taking a sip, he carefully spread the fax out on his desk. There was an image of a woman on it. The photo wasn’t a mugshot; it looked more like something taken from an employee badge. He’d recognized the young woman instantly, the night he’d gone with Bud to check on the first report of gunfire out at Miranda’s estate. He made it a point to check all of the APB’s each morning. This girl was on the list.

  The print out said her name was Alixia Clayborne, which was not the name she had given him that night. Her last known residence was in New York. You’re a long way from home. She was wanted for questioning concerning the death of another young woman, Samantha Cole, as well as a tattoo parlor full of dead people.

  She didn’t seem the killer type, but Graham had seen stranger things. He took the second shot of whiskey and leaned back in his chair. He wasn’t entirely sure why he wasn’t out there now, bringing her in. Maybe it was because the whole thing didn’t feel right... Why would the purple-haired girl be here? And what did Ms. Bairs have to do with it?

  His hesitancy most likely dealt more with his feelings, no, his fascination with Miranda Baris. The woman was just as mysterious as she was beautiful. She puzzled him, and, against his better judgment, he liked it. There was no doubt she had a secret, and he would find out what that secret was.

  Just not tonight.

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  Book Three: Cassie

  Chapter 1

  The place was a dive. There were always more than a few in whatever state Cassie ended up in, and Colorado was no exception. The concrete floors, and those four legged stools with the round cushions on them were always a telltale sign. The cushions here at O’Malley’s just happened to be kelly green, and didn’t match anything in the bar except maybe the cloth on the pool tables. An irish bar in Colorado, go figure, she thought.

  Cassie took a sip of her beer and looked up at the strand of icicle lights hanging across the top of the bar. Jesus, even those aren’t right. A bitter memory of her “previous life,” as she referred to it now, flashed in her mind. Her mother had always hung those kind of lights in the livingroom. She’d been meticulous about it too, not a strand out of place. Whoever put them up on the bar apparently didn’t care if they were straight or not. Cassie shook her head. Doesn’t matter anyway.

  The television up on the wall was blaring some basketball game that competed with the music thumping in the background. There was a decent crowd milling around, waiting for the dart tournament to start. Most of them looked as if they’d just gotten off work and were ready to make the most of their evening. Cheap domestic beer and smack talk were the entrees for the night, and everyone was having their fill.

  Cassie hadn’t come for the tournament, she just wanted to wind down after a long day working at the lumber mill. The job was demanding, but paid well enough. She took another sip of her beer, but this time she glanced at the guy that had followed her in. He was across the room trying to blend in, but Cassie knew better. She’d seen him in the parking lot, and had gotten an uneasy feeling right off the bat.

  His gaze cut to the floor when she looked at him.

  Cassie chuckled to herself. I don’t know why they even try to fit in anymore. After five years of being on the run it was pretty easy for her to single them out. They all walked the same way, sat by the exit, and gave her that lingering gaze. Not a sensual stare mind you, it was more like how a hunter eyed his prey. This guy happened to be in his mid 30’s with the start of a pot belly. His blue jeans and flannel shirt actually matched the ball cap he had pulled down in an attempt to hide the fact that he was there.

  Cassie frowned. It looked like a new town, new job, and new hotel was in her immediate future. Dammit, I had it good here too. Her piss-poor mood soured a bit more. She puzzled over how they had found her. She didn’t use credit cards anymore, didn’t pay taxes either. The only thing that might have given anybody a clue was the accident that happened about a month back. A logging truck took a turn too sharp and went over the side of a cliff. Cassie had been fortunate enough to be there to save the driver. The incident hadn’t made national news, but the local channels had been on fire with the story. She’d done her best to stay away from the cameras, but the reporters had been as tenacious as they were annoying. That has to be what did it... shit.

  Whoever was in charge of the tournament called out to the crowd that the event was beginning. Cheers went up around the bar and the different teams gathered to talk out their strategies, though Cassie wasn’t sure how much strategy was involved in throwing a feathered spike at a wall.

  She glanced over her shoulder after finishing her beer to check on her tag-along.

  He was gone.

  He’s going to try and take me in the parking lot when I leave, Cassie thought. At least their strategy was solid and predictable.

  “I’ll take a whisky neat and another Corona for the lady,” a deep voice said over Cassie’s other shoulder as the bartender walked by.

  Cassie slowly closed her eyes. Oh, hell. She turned to have a look at who was fishing for a piece, and found herself a bit taken aback. The muscular blond leaning on the bar next to her wasn’t what she’d expected. The men around here tended to be rough in the looks department. This guy, however, had a smile that made you want to smile right back like a giddy little school girl. Which of course is exactly what she did before she could stop herself. Great, she chided. Smooth as ever.

  With the exception of his jeans and t-shirt, Blondie could have been a norseman right out of the history books, sporting broad shoulders and thick thighs. On any other night she would have humored the thought of having a little fun, but tonight would have to be chalked up to bad timing.

  “Not available, sorry,” Cassie said.

  “Wow, just like that huh?” Blondie replied.

  “Yep.” She took a swig of the beer he’d bought her. Why waste a free drink?

  “Just as well I suppose. You looked like you could use the drink is all.”

  Cassie narrowed her eyes.

  Blondie raised his hands in surrender. “It’s never a bad idea to buy a pretty lady a drink. You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  Cassie smirked, and then tipped the bottle toward him. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.” He took his whiskey and nodded to the bartender before looking back to lock eyes with her. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  Cassie swallowed a bit too loudly, mesmerized by his blue gray eyes. They looked like storm clouds brewing.

  He turned and sauntered off toward a seat near one of the dart teams.

  Mother in heaven. Cassie sighed as she watched him go. She did like a good backside and his didn’t disappoint. The six foot three V-shaped frame didn’t hurt either. Sorry handsome, not tonight.

  Cassie slammed back
the rest of her beer, and got to her feet. Damn my past, and damn the law, too. She grabbed her coat and checked for her stalker one last time.

  No sign of him.

  She knew O’Malley’s didn’t have a side door, and that going out the back could be worse than using the front. Not to mention her car was out there. You’re stalling. Just go and be done with it. She took a deep breath and headed toward the exit.

  Crisp, February air blasted her in the face as she swung the door open. The sudden gust took her breath away. Snow covered the ground a foot thick, but the sidewalks and parking lot had all been shoveled and salted. There were no signs of the guy that had followed her in, but her two-door 1978 Monte Carlo was easy enough to spot. It was a junker, no doubt, but it’d been cheap and reliable. That’s all she needed nowadays.

  The slush crunched under her boots as she power walked to the car. She was starting to think that she might get away without incident until she caught sight of the flat tire. Son-of-a-bitch!

  “Cassie Gallagher,” a man said from behind her. “Put your hands out where I can see them.”

  “Go to hell,” Cassie snapped as she spun around. “You’re not a cop. You’re an asshole!” She could feel the heat of her power building. She was starting to lose her temper, which was bad. He shouldn’t have cut my tires.

  The bounty hunter was maybe a dozen feet away. He had a pair of handcuffs in one hand and what looked like a blackjack in the other. “I’m taking you back to Canada to face murder charges,” he was saying.

  “Like hell you are!” Cassie clenched her fists. “I think you got the wrong person, pal.”

  Asshole chuckled. “I know it’s you. Make it easy on yourself and come with me.” He jingled the handcuffs in the air.

  This guy really was blockhead. “Look man, I’m not having the best of nights, and that could be bad for you. So why don’t we go our separate ways, and pretend none of this ever happened?”