The sound of her screeches is something I will never forget as long as I live.
“We have to do something,” I whispered when I felt Bryn at my back. His other neighbors were opening their doors and coming out. Most of them stared at Cecily, but one of them walked along the frog rows until he saw they were coming from under Bryn’s gate.
“Morning,” I said. “What’s going on?”
The man peered at me, then at the frogs hopping out next to my feet. He didn’t say a word, only frowned, turned, and walked away.
“C’mon,” Bryn said, taking my arm. “Come inside before you get pneumonia.”
“We have to stop those frogs before they get out of the neighborhood.”
“Someone’s calling them. The magic isn’t complex, but it’s strong. I’d have to concentrate power to stop it, and it doesn’t seem worth it. Frogs and insects will be a nuisance, but no one will really get hurt.”
“Except me! I’ve been seen out here, right where they’re coming from. Who do you think Duvall is going to blame for this?”
“Some people will speculate, but they won’t be able to prove anything.”
“They don’t need proof. I’ll be convicted in the court of public opinion.”
“Come inside. Your skin is like ice.”
My feet, numb with cold, wouldn’t move. “I need to stop this. Don’t you see?”
Bryn didn’t answer. He just pulled me to the front door.
“Jenna will use this to run me out of town,” I said, my teeth chattering. “Duvall’s more than my home. The people—most of them—are family to me.”
“Jenna can try, but it won’t work. We’ll make sure it doesn’t.”
“What about the Conclave? You know they’re doing this, right? Out of spite. It’s not fair.”
He wrapped his arms around me. I struggled for a moment, but then finally relaxed, letting the warmth seep back into my body.
“Of course, I don’t agree with casting spells that will terrorize the town, but the Conclave doesn’t take it well when humans start exposing and threatening witches. The association will always send Conclave operatives if a witch comes under fire.”
“Yeah, but marching frogs and swarms of bugs will just make people more scared and likely to act crazy. Doesn’t it make more sense to let things die down instead of conjuring up a couple of plagues?”
“Yes, it does.”
“So what are they doing?” I demanded. “Could they be doing this stuff to make it so we can’t live here? John Barrett told me that he wants us to move to England.”
“Both of us?”
“Yes. He wants me to move to get training. And to be bait to draw you there.”
He smiled. “I might not like the man, but he does have great taste in bait.”
“Oh, c’mon! You wouldn’t leave Duvall to chase after a girl. You work here. You live here. You’ve got this great mansion on the river—even though the river is kind of dangerous to ordinary people . . . but not to you though, so that works out. Anyway, it’s a nice view, and it’s Duvall. It’s your home, right?”
“There are two things in this town that interest me, and the view isn’t one of them.”
“Two things?”
“Macon Hill and you.”
The tor. And me. Oh boy. “Well, we’ve—”
“Wait a minute,” he murmured, drawing his brows together thoughtfully and glancing toward the front of the house. A moment later, he grimaced. “God damn him. I know what he’s doing.”
Bryn’s disgusted tone sent a chill down my spine. “Who? John Barrett? What? What’s he doing?”
“He wants the town.”
“What?”
“They aren’t trying to shake things up in some act of petty revenge. Before the Conclave came to town, WAM wasn’t aware of how powerful the Duvall tor was because most of the magic is insulated from the outside world. It’s fae territory, so the central core of power is masked. The ley lines were the only indication that a tor was here, but now that Barrett has discovered what a significant source of power Macon Hill is, he wants to claim it for the World Association of Magic. But for a bunch of witches and wizards to move in and take over, what does WAM need to do first?”
Blood roared through my ears. “To run the people out?”
“Yes.”
“They can’t. I mean they’re from England. That’s where they live.” I pointed forcefully in the general direction of Europe. “Over there.”
“That’s true, and WAM won’t move here, but settling the town in the name of the World Association . . .”
“They can’t do that!”
“They can,” he said with a frustrated sigh. “They’ve done it before with a town called Revelwor th.”
Chapter 19
Once the initial shock wore off, I squared my shoulders. “That’s not happening. They think they can just come in here and take whatever they want? My brooch? My town? I don’t think so.” I narrowed my eyes and grabbed Bryn’s arm. “C’mon, help me cast a spell to get those frogs and bugs back.”
Bryn blew out a slow breath and nodded. “I’ll do it. You take a shower and get dressed.”
“You don’t need extra power from me?”
He shook his head.
“Okay then.” I marched into the bedroom. “Taking over Duvall? Not happening!”
I took a hot shower, and when I came out I found Bryn sitting on the sun porch. He had his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
“What happened? Didn’t work?” I looked outside.
“It worked,” he said in a hoarse voice. “I used a spell to shatter the one that was gathering them. I couldn’t drive them back into the water, but they’ll disperse, so it won’t look so unnatural.”
“Why are you holding your head? You have a headache?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.” I sat down next to him and put a hand on his back, rubbing in small circles. “We need help fighting the Conclave. Who can we call? Can we ask the people from the Wizard’s Underground to come to Duvall?”
“Barrett would love that. To draw the Underground members out in the open. Then Conclave assassins could pick them off one by one. No.”
“Well, what can we do?”
“Barrett will try to scare the townspeople. When people decide the town is cursed, they’ll want to move. Right now, he’s probably lining up some loyal association members who are U.S. citizens to be ready to buy property in the town.”
“Okay, so what we have to do is to keep people from selling. We’ll come up with a story. You can talk to the mayor and the town council. I’ll talk to the regular people. Now what kind of story—”
Bryn held out a hand.
“What?”
He didn’t answer, and I realized his head must be hurting him really bad. I massaged the back of his neck, putting gentle pressure at the base of his skull. He exhaled slowly.
“It was the magic. I think somehow the original spell was mingled with a kind of kickback spell. So that if someone were to interfere with it using a counterspell, he’d get a nasty surprise. It felt like a lightning bolt shattering my skull.”
I sucked in a small gasp at the image.
“It was almost like having my own power backlash on me, but there’s no spell I know of that could do that. I think I’ve underestimated Barrett.”
I stood and kissed the top of his head. “Yeah, well you’ve beat him before, and we’ll beat him again,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”
I went in the house and found Motrin, Tylenol, and some squares of dark chocolate. Hey, chocolate always makes me feel better.
Bryn took all that I gave him, and I tried not to grimace at his bloodshot eyes. I put a blanket around his shoulders.
“You rest until that choc—medicine kicks in.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing much,” I lied.
“Stay inside the house for now.” He leaned against the
thick cushions, tipping his head back. “I’m sure this headache will ease off soon, and we’ll need to plan our strategy.” He closed his eyes.
“Sure thing,” I said softly and pressed a kiss onto each of his eyelids.
As I walked to the door, I felt a whisper of magic raise the hair on my arms. I glanced at Bryn and saw that his lips were moving wordlessly. Was he dreaming or spell-casting? Whatever he was doing, I hoped it made him feel better.
I went into the house and whistled. Mercutio darted into the kitchen.
“Well, Merc, hope you ate plenty of frog legs to get your strength up. Turns out, we’re going to war.”
Merc yowled.
“Glad someone’s happy about it.”
I marched into Bryn’s study and turned on his computer. A minute later, a short muscular guy appeared in the doorway. He had a crop of bleached blond hair and a dark blue security guy blazer. Pete.
“Mr. Lyons said you’re not supposed to be in here on your own.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“So come out,” he said, waving a hand to beckon me into the hall.
“He doesn’t want me reading his books. See how I’m not reading his books?” I said with a wave of my hand. I found the website for the Savoy in London and dialed the phone. My heart kicked into a faster rhythm. I’d never called England before. It was kind of exciting.
Pete strode in and pressed the button, hanging up the phone, then he grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the seat. Merc hissed and swiped a paw over his leg, tearing his trousers.
“Easy, Merc,” I said, trying to defuse the situation.
Pete hauled me out of the room and set me outside the library door.
Merc snarled at him, menacingly. Pete snarled back.
“I can see we’re going to need to settle this. C’mon,” I said, waving a hand for Pete to follow me. We went to the screened-in porch. Far be it from me to take advantage of a position that I haven’t even agreed to be in, but I couldn’t have Pete—or anyone—getting in my way when I needed to get things done.
I nudged Bryn’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry to bug you.”
He rubbed his eyes and opened them. “What is it?”
“You want me to live here with you for a while, right? Or should I leave?”
Bryn drew his brows together in confusion. “Is this a trick question?”
“She was in your study, Mr. Lyons. I got her out of there.”
“He dragged me out. By force,” I added. “I was only on the computer getting a phone number.”
Bryn sighed. “Tamara—”
“Okay, then I’ll move out.”
Bryn clenched his jaw, catching my wrist before I had a chance to move away. “Stay.”
“Well, that depends on what the house policy is on the security guards manhandling me.”
Bryn turned his gaze to Pete, studying him.
“I didn’t hurt her,” Pete said.
“Don’t ever touch her,” Bryn said, his voice snow-cone cool.
“You said she wasn’t supposed—”
“You ask her to leave a room. If she doesn’t, you let me know. Don’t ever touch her.” Bryn’s eyes had gone the dark blue-gray of storm clouds, and his voice carried an edge that was like a switchblade slicing. I felt a wave of that dark magic roll off him and shivered.
Yikes.
“I misunderstood,” Pete said.
“An honest mistake,” I said, suddenly anxious to smooth things over. Bryn was kind of quick to fire people, and I didn’t want things to go that far—or further, since he seemed to be calling up the magic that I didn’t trust.
“Go back to work,” Bryn said.
Pete nodded and walked out.
Bryn looked me over. “You can’t have it both ways, Tamara. Not forever. You want them to treat you like you belong here, then maybe you’d better make the move permanent.”
“Permanent? We’re not even sure we’re going to survive the week,” I said lightly. And I sure wasn’t committing to anything until I knew the nature of Grandma Lenore’s prophecy, which I’d already told him more than once.
Bryn moved so quick it caught me off guard. One moment I was standing next to him. The next, I was lying on the couch under him. The kiss bruised my lips, and a blaze of magic curled down my throat and pooled in my lower belly, making it clench. I felt him suck a little of my magic into him along with my tongue. Then he tugged my shirt up, so he could touch my bare skin. My fingers twisted in his hair like they had a mind of their own.
As the dizzying lust pitched higher, his hand went to the button of my jeans. I knew if I didn’t stop us soon, there’d be no stopping.
I pulled my mouth away, breathlessly. “What about your headache?”
“Why don’t you help me forget it?”
I noticed that the red of his eyes had faded.
“In the middle of the day? When you’ve got security cameras all over? I don’t think so.” I shoved his shoulder until he let me go.
He rubbed the back of his neck with a slight smile. “When you move in for good, I’ll have to reconsider where the cameras are.”
“When I move in for good,” I muttered as I stood on shaky legs. Getting involved with Bryn was like jogging in quicksand. Even when I wasn’t moving, I just kept getting in deeper.
I called the Savoy in London, hoping to reach Aunt Melanie, but the phone lines to her room weren’t working. I left a message with the front desk, saying it was urgent that I get in touch with her and asking her to call me.
Then I called Marsha, the most popular real estate agent in town. Sure enough, Gwen had been by to talk to her and to buy her a cup of coffee. Obviously Gwen was making nice with the locals before she stabbed us in the back and stole our land. Different century, same old story. Well, Duvall wasn’t going to become some Brit-witch colony. We were staying independent and human—well, mostly human.
I drove to my friend Johnny Nguyen’s place. Johnny’s a fantastic hairdresser and, before Jenna and DeeDAW got wise, Johnny was the only regular person in town who knew about ghosts and witches. Unlike DeeDAW, he never held having ties to the supernatural against me. Not that he really could, since he’d fallen for a cross-dressing vampire named Rollie.
Merc was asleep in the passenger seat, so I left him there while I rung the bell to Johnny’s. Johnny opened the door, and my eyebrows shot up. He wore black Lycra bike shorts with neon yellow piping that matched the zip-up neon yellow Lycra shirt.
“Hi there, Tammy Jo. How it going?” he asked cheerfully.
“Um, are you fixin’ to go biking?”
He smiled. “No. I doing dance-workout video.” He illustrated some leap-and-twist-in-the-air moves that made my jaw drop.
“I’m not normally clumsy, but I don’t think I’d try that workout without a safety harness,” I said.
“Well, I add a little extra to the moves myself. Johnny Nguyen signature.”
“Oh, right,” I said with a smile. “Well, I hate to interrupt your fitness routine. Wanna burn some calories helping me create a diversion so I can search a witch’s hotel room?”
“I always up for Tammy Jo adventure,” he said, pumping his small fist. “What I need to wear for this? Probably not Lycra stretch. What I going to be doing?”
“I thought you could present the witch, Gwen, with a complimentary spa treatment. Get her out of the room and to the salon. She might not go for it, but I have reason to believe that these out-of-town witches are trying to dig their heels in here in Duvall, so she might. I want you to say that the gift certificate’s a present from Crane Realty.”
“Okay then. I definitely need outfit change. Form of: Johnny Nguyen, exclusive salon owner. Shape of: God of Hair,” he mumbled as he hurried down the hall to his bedroom.
I laughed softly. Ever since Johnny had started dating Rollie, he’d been incorporating some real interesting turns of phrase into his life.
When Johnny came out from changing clothes, he wore black trousers, a
black smock shirt, shiny patent leather slipper shoes, and blue mousse in his hair. He looked like a punk ninja.
Armed with a salon gift certificate and a Color Me Badd key chain, Johnny bounced down to his BMW and followed me across town to the motel. He parked in the lot while I went around the corner to leave my car where the witch-spies wouldn’t spot it.
Johnny went to the office and found out Gwen’s room number and texted it to me: She is in Finch room—Room 5.
I glanced at the hotel. A couple years earlier, it had been pretty run-down, but new siding and paint had brightened it up. Now it wasn’t exactly cheerful or pretty, but at least it didn’t look like it would fall down during the next hard rain.
I walked to the tall grass at the edge of the property. Gwen was in a ground-floor room. If the plan went perfectly, Johnny would draw Gwen out of the hotel to the salon. If it went okay but not perfectly, he would make an appointment for her to come to the salon, leaving her room unguarded at some point in the future that I’d know about. If it didn’t work at all, she’d tell him to forget it. Then I’d have to stake the place out until she left, never knowing when she’d be back.
I waited patiently to get one of the three preprogrammed texts that Johnny had ready. When my phone vibrated, I flipped it open and pressed the button to open the message. Then I smiled.
We going. Do that thing!
That sweet-talking black-and-blue-haired charmer! Johnny might not have been from Duvall, but he could pour on the sugar with the best of them.
I counted one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, all the way up to one-hundred-one-thousand to give them time to clear the parking lot.
I crept to the back windows. I’d brought my tire-iron from the trunk, and I’d wrapped it in my jacket, hoping to muffle the sound when I used it. But that didn’t turn out to be a problem. She’d left the back window unlocked. I shook my head. Some superspy.
I crawled in and looked around. The brown-and-white striped wallpaper was covered with finches. It was a weird combination, but I’d seen pictures of the insides of English castles and when it comes to busy patterns, we’ve got nothing on them, so blue-blood Gwen probably felt right at home.
Halfway Hexed Page 13
