“Well…” Mr. Jueavas said, “She’s probably seeking out the trail of the girl.”
“Druids don’t work that way. We connect to nature. If the child isn’t around, we aren’t going to know. We aren’t hound dogs.”
“But warlocks can sense energies. Harper is half-warlock isn’t she? If she’s early enough into the trail, she might be able to catch the energy of her passage and trace her steps.”
“You combine that with flashes of awareness from nature, and Harper might find her when we couldn’t,” Scarlett added. She winked at Mr. Jueavas as her Gram humphed.
Gram and Scarlett’s gazes met. Gram sniffed and then rubbed her nose as if she had an itch. Gram ordered, “We’re going to the Mystic Grove next. This is a waste of time for you and me, Scarlett.”
“That’s a long walk for a kid,” Scarlett said. The grove was a good distance out of town—a “reserve” in the eyes of the law, but the reality was that generations of Mystic Grove’s Circle of druids had planted trees, worked magic, and nurtured the trees there.
“We’re tapping the energy of the grove. You’re coming. You need to learn.”
Scarlett’s bright moss-green gaze narrowed on the slightly faded version of Gram’s. But Scarlett lost the battle without even opening her mouth. She clenched her teeth and said to Gus, “Do you want me to drop you off?”
He glanced between Scarlett and Gram and nodded silently. They weren’t so much fighting as frustrated and infuriated. And too willing to snap at the other.
“Thanks for driving us, buddy,” Scarlett said.
“I want to find her too,” he said simply. “But you have the best chance. I’m a tall, strange man and if I hunt, my fangs will come out.”
They were distracted by the sound of Gram cackling. She waited until Scarlett turned and gave her a silent order and then Mr. Jueavas squealed away.
“I sometimes forget she’s half-Warlock.” Gus glanced towards where Harper had climbed down and then turned the SUV back towards his house.
“Me too,” Scarlett admitted. “What kind of sister does that make me? I’m sure Harper doesn’t forget.”
“Your mom got her lessons and saw to it that she learned both sets of abilities. She clearly feels safe enough with you to practice both. Maybe it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters,” Scarlett said, knowing that Harper would rather fit into the family than have two sets of skills. But how did you explain the emotion behind a hundred little mannerisms, a hundred little flinches? A hundred little moments were Harper didn’t quite get it. She hadn’t just lost a childhood where she’d mattered—though of course, she had lost that. But she’d lost growing up either race. She’d lost the early moments of sitting on Maye’s lap and connecting to the grove or a kitten together. She’d lost the childhood moments when magic had risen high in the druid blood, and they’d mounted brooms and flown with the wind. She’d lost the magic of believing in Santa. She lost the surety of being wanted. Even after the big battle Scarlett had with Maye after Scarlett left town and married a normal human, Scarlett had been certain she could return home and be wanted. Harper…didn’t have the same armor that came from perfect childhood Scarlett had been given.
Gus glanced over and Scarlett thought he might understand better than Scarlett ever could. They’d grown up the very best of friends. But, she knew he had never been certain if he were wanted. Not like Scarlett had. His parents had more been doing their duty, and the moment he’d gotten his fangs in his early-20s, they had disappeared to one of their villas. She was sure that they thought they’d done as they should. She was sure that they thought the house and trust-fund were more than sufficient. Given how often Scarlett called her mother or sister for help and how often she’d curled up next to her sister and simply been there she knew it wasn’t enough. She…goodness she realized, it was possible that she was spoiled rotten and unaware of how lucky she was despite the examples before her.
As they pulled up outside of Gus’s house, she said, “It’s not that I don’t know that I’m lucky for what I have. But…”
“You don’t have to apologize, Scarlett.” Gus opened the door and looked back at Scarlett. “Just because what you had was better doesn’t mean that it was flawless.”
“I feel like a jerk. I have….good mother privileges and hardly even recognize it.”
“Maybe,” he said, “But you have a dad who disappeared. You have your own troubles, and we don’t have to compare.”
She drove through town trying to sense a little-lost druid or the path of the dead one and not think about Gus. She knew he wanted her to consider something more than being just friends. Thinking about it, made her feel crippled with fear. She…she didn’t want to approach that place in her head. She was happy single. She was happy with her girls. She was haunted by the idea of being in love again and the predicted children.
She wanted those kids. She ached for them. And the thought of them was exhausting. She did not want to fall in love. But she needed to be in love, she needed the magic of it. She was fine being alone. In that, she was fully confident—but she had to wonder if her life would be better another way? She was a bundle of contradictions and knew herself for swimming through madness.
What did any of this matter when there was a little girl out there? Lost. Alone. Scared. Scarlett wanted to curl the little girl into her arms, to hold her close. There was no way to avoid comparing that child to Harper. Harper was important to Scarlett in a way that was hard to explain. Harper wasn’t genetically related to Scarlett, but it didn’t matter. Harper wasn’t just her family. She was Scarlett’s anchor. She was the person Scarlett called, she was the person who understood Scarlett’s heart and soul. And this girl—this girl was lost and alone like Harper once had been. This girl didn’t know what she was like Harper had once not known. Scarlett hadn’t been able to help Harper until Maye brought Harper home, but Scarlett could help Maeve, and Scarlett was going to.
Her time, she realized, as she drove towards the big grove was not best spent with Gram. Brad Day just might talk to Scarlett. He had once, and to be honest, Scarlett was pretty sure she could manipulate him into talking to her even if he didn’t want to. She might have felt bad about that except…Maeve.
Chapter 7
“Let me talk to her,” Henna said in the background. Gram was huffing into the phone as she made her way through the grove. Given the talking to Scarlett had just gotten, she felt like Gram should have saved her breath for the trek through the woods.
“No,” Gram snapped.
There was fumbling and then Henna said with a much less angry voice, “Do you remember the town picnic?”
“Tomorrow?”
“I think you’ll have a better chance of seeing who is out and about at that. We can see if anyone doesn’t fit. You might try for Brad Day then, he’ll be much more likely to answer questions there. And he’ll be there because his little girl is in the ballet performance.”
“What about Jimmy Day?” Scarlett asked. She pulled over to talk to Henna and watched several cars roll by. Any of them could have killed Bridget. Any of them could be after Maeve.
“I think you should leave him to Lex,” Henna said with a serious tone that had Scarlett’s attention perking up.
“Why?”
“He’s a nasty beast,” Henna said. “Leave him to Lex. He’s also a misogynist, and you are female. Ending up alone with him is going to be a bit too dangerous for any female.”
“What are you talking about? Have I been transported out of Mystic Cove? Isn’t this the little town where my girls were supposed to be safe?”
“Any town or group of people have utter and complete…” Henna stuttered and then said, “I am a grown woman; I’ll say what I wish.” The phone was muffled while Henna and Gram sniped back and forth at each other and then Henna said, “Look, go find Harper or Gus or Lex. Don’t visit with Jimmy alone. He’s a blackguard. Regardless, you aren’t going to get away with being fake inte
rested in a vehicle again and Brad is working.”
“Henna…” Scarlett let her head fall to the steering wheel and she said, “How is this happening?”
The feel of the hunt was heavy in the air, and Scarlett could only hope that it was Harper. Knowing better, however, left Scarlett sick. The best they could hope for was to beat whoever was hunting the child to her location.
“I don’t know what to do.”
Henna’s voice was soft as she said, “All we can do is our best. We’ll cover this side of things.”
“She needs to learn,” Gram said in the background. Scarlett could imagine the irritated sneer on Gram’s face. How to admit that she’d learned a lot while she’d been away from Mystic Cove? Gram wouldn’t be any happier that Scarlett had learned quite a bit about these things when she was visiting the different groves. It would have been Gram who taught Scarlett here, and she’d said nothing about exactly what she had learned to prevent Gram from being hurt.
“Don’t be like that, love,” Mr. Jueavas said, his voice carrying through the line to Scarlett and making her smirk.
Though, she had to shudder at the idea of her Gram and her boyfriend. It was something at least, to be able to focus on the things that didn’t matter. It wasn’t that Gram was older that bothered Scarlett. It was that Gram was as loving as a porcupine.
“Thank you, Henna,” Scarlett said, ending the call and laying her head down on her steering wheel and then deciding to drive again. Just drive and feel out the groves what she’d been doing before but without the distraction of Gus and Harper and Gram. Scarlett had to admit, when she was alone, that Gus hit every single one of her attractive notes. She had to admit that she might love him already. But she couldn’t go there in her head. Every time she did, she felt her heart freeze and a flash of fear and then a flash of frustration with herself.
She rolled the windows down in her car and called to the east wind, but it was summer and her friend was probably causing trouble elsewhere. The east wind tended to lie somewhat low during the summer, but when she came, she came with a vengeance. The storm she’d felt earlier had never manifested and Scarlett had to admit it was probably the knowing rather than any weather premonition.
Scarlett let her mind tangle with the wind. The other winds were friends as well and they flew in the windows, skittered across her face and said hello. Scarlett tried to convey the idea of Maeve to them, but they had nothing to convey about her. Even among druids, it wasn’t that common to be friends with the wind.
Scarlett tried not to pay attention to where she was going while she followed her instincts. What she was doing was potentially stupid given that she wasn’t a hound dog, and she wasn’t following a scent. She was wandering through Mystic Cove feeling for something that was off. Rather than trying to find the child, she was trying to find why Bridget had died.
She made her way to the edge of town three times. The sun had set and her daughters had called, and she’d stopped for chowder and hated that she’d found nothing. Mystic Cove was, as far as Scarlett could tell everything she’d come home for. It was small and full of people who knew each other.
“Hey there, Scarlett,” Mac Jones said. She was in his little chowder shack which wasn’t particularly busy given how hot it was outside. He left the place behind the grill, dropped down across from her, and said, “I heard you and Gus were dating. I always thought you two would end up together.”
Scarlett blinked and then leaned back just a bit.
Mac’s voice rolled out in a shout of a laugh. “Now, don’t look at me like that. You can’t spend almost every day with someone and not have the story get out.”
She blinked again as she realized that he didn’t know she had a date with Gus, Mac was just extrapolating. At least he had the grace to gossip to her face.
“I’ve always spent nearly every day with Gus. He’s been my best friend since kindergarten.”
“And in love with you as long,” Mac said with the same hearty, knowing laugh.
He caught the sour look on Scarlett’s face, but he just winked as he rose and scooped himself a bread bowl, coming back with a tray that had hot sauce and a beer for both of them.
“Better Gus than that too-smooth sheriff or the young Jueavas bad boy. Let alone someone like Brad high-and-mighty Day. You got good taste, kid.”
Scarlett took a sip of the beer, hiding the crinkle of her nose behind the mug. She wasn’t the biggest fan of the type of tap beers that Mac sold. She preferred something like tangerine ale to bud light.
“The Jueavas bad boy sounds fun,” Scarlett said, grinning wickedly. The idea of irritating her Gram by dating the grandson of her boyfriend was downright alluring.
“You stay away from that one. He makes your bad girl sister look like a tender kitten.”
“My sister,” Scarlett said with a distinct snap in her voice, “is no bad girl. She’s just…energetic.”
“And prone to setting things on fire.”
“I didn’t know that Mr. Jueavas had a grandchild in town,” Scarlett said to change the subject before she dumped her beer on Mac who wasn’t trying to be a jack…gah, stop. She had to take a large bite of chowder to stop herself from saying another word.
“He comes and goes. Jueavas’s kids moved away long before you were born. The grandchildren have come and gone. They’re not really Mystic Cove people. Not like you and your girls. I met your daughter, Luna. She’s a little hoot. Found her talking to an opossum on the side of the road. It had holed up and was a little hurt. She’s as pretty as you please and sassy enough for me.”
“She was doing what?” There was an edge of danger in Scarlett’s voice that had Mac laughing heartily again shoulders and belly fat jiggling before he finally stopped.
“Your mom was right there. They’d stopped at the fruit stand.”
The rush of irritation and fury faded.
“Have you noticed anything weird going on around here, Mac? Doesn’t it feel like Mystic Cove has a bit of a sour flavor?”
Mac leaned back. He was shocked at first, but after a moment, Mac said. “I’m not a big fan of the buses coming through with those folks from Boston. They said it would be a bunch of antiquers, but it never is. It’s just people who want to get drunk and have the poor driver show them around while they’re sauced.”
Scarlett’s moment of interest faded as she listened to Mac complain about the young couples out of the city who stayed and never tipped enough and complained about whether the food was ethically sourced as if Mac hadn’t been buying from Bran Leary for ages. And how should Mac know if Bran were ethical? He was a good guy, wasn’t he? Mac’s tirade went on without pause as he rang out two more customers and returned to bring Scarlett unrequested cherry pie.
She ate slowly, thinking about Maeve and half-listening to Mac’s conversation. Jumping in here and there with an appropriate mmm-hmmm. And still, Mac carried on. He continued his rant, going from the tourists to the Jueavas man doing business with mouthy new warlocks to the banshee family who had 7 teenage daughters including two sets of twins who’d bought the house behind his.
Scarlett tuned him out, tapping her fingers against the table, but he moved and she blinked, listening again.
“…I wouldn’t have thought anything could have been louder than those warlock boys who would wrestle in the backyard until I met those girls. Pretty as a picture, sweet as a song, and boy can they squall. They fight over everything. Every single thing. Who is wearing what shirt. The timing of showers. And what can I do? If I don’t open my windows, I swelter. If I do open them, I catch every single shrieking battle.”
Scarlett shook her head empathetically and said, “Any good viewpoints around here? It’s been awhile since I’ve been up this way.”
“You should get Gus to show you Lover’s Lane,” Mac said with another of those laughs that brought out something dangerous and physically violent in Scarlett before he added, “If you haven’t been out to the bird preserve lately, t
hey did it up right nice. There’s some boardwalk walks through the grounds, so you don’t mess with the nests, and swinging redwood benches here and there. I was against it. Didn’t see the need, but to tell ya the truth, it’s about my favorite place around here these days. No banshee teenagers to scare me or the birds away.”
“Where is it?”
“Just past the old Day dealership, take a left at Witch’s Pointe and go down that old road. It’s about 5 miles beyond the dealership into the woods, on the south side of the lake. Wasn’t much out there when you were here last, I’d guess.”
Scarlett nodded and said, “Sounds like a good place to do some meditating.”
“Think on wedding bouquets while you’re there,” Mac laughed, thinking he had been pretty clever and Scarlett rubbed the muscle that had begun twitching near her left eye.
This, exactly this, was what she’d been trying to avoid, and she hadn’t even gone on a date with Gus yet.
* * * * *
Scarlett followed the path that Mac said mostly because she wasn’t sure of doing anything else. She found the old dealership and turned just before it. There was a car or two in the lot, and the lights in the parking lot helped keep her on the track of the otherwise nearly abandoned road. She would have expected a sign to turn into the bird sanctuary, but there wasn't one until she was at least a mile down the road. The road was narrow cement with ditches on either side and she realized she felt…spooked. The feeling of the hunt was increasing. Was it because whoever had killed Bridget was closing in on Maeve? Scarlett laid her head against the steering wheel of the car with the windows still rolled down. She breathed in slow and breathed out slow and tried to find the child.
There was nothing. No signs of her at all. The trees here were hungry. The druids must not come out here much. Even though the sun was down and twilight was quickly succumbing to the night. As the stars began to shine down and the birds quieted for the power of the predators, bats flight through the sky and a haunting worry began to fill Scarlett.
Runes and Roller Skates Page 6
