by Liliana Hart
But the people didn’t think they could be harmed. Though they embraced, respected, and loved these protectors, they became cocky and complacent. And they took advantage of the protection they were given, never offering anything in return to their protectors to guard their own safety.”
The black rock came into view and they stopped in front of it, keeping a respectful distance away.
“What happened?” Eloise asked, her voice hoarse as it drifted off in the wind.
“The grumblings became rebellion, and those who’d once fled together to unite under the guise of all freedoms separated, drawing lines in the sand of what each thought was right and wrong. Who was good and evil.
“There was a traitor in their midst. A trusted woman. A wise woman who the protectors loved as if she were one of them. The woman was jealous of the protectors’ powers, her heart black with envy and spite. And the protectors didn’t see, because sometimes magic can be blinded by pure love. And what they felt for this woman was love in its purest form. She’d helped raise them, let them weep their sorrows on her shoulders, and she’d celebrated their triumphs.”
The wind picked up, blowing his hair into his face, and he wished he’d remembered to grab a sweatshirt. He stuck his hands in his pockets, but it did nothing to ward off the chill. The black rock seemed to vibrate, and he could almost feel its heartbeat as if it were a living, breathing thing.
“These dissenters, who were so sure they were right in their beliefs, scoured the lands looking for those who had these unexplainable powers. Though they overlooked the fact that the God they worshipped created all, even those they couldn’t explain or understand. And all witches—and many who were not but believed to be anyway—were torn from their homes and children, and murdered in the name of these freedoms.
“The woman who’d become their Judas heard rumors of a great reward offered to those who turned in the witches, and an even greater reward if their power was proven. But she was careful. She knew she could trust no one in the town to see her ways, so she traveled under the cloak of darkness to the next town, where she met in secret with the fanatics who had already killed so many innocents.”
Eloise shivered and he resisted the urge to put his arm around her and comfort her.
“And the next night, the woman led an angry mob of men and women into the peaceful and protected village, laying torches to homes and trees so the sky looked as if it belonged in the farthest depths of hell. They marched straight up the hill to the house where the three sisters lived and set it ablaze so the women had no choice but to come out and face the mob.
“The horde didn’t realize that inside the house, the eldest sister’s husband was escaping through underground tunnels with their newborn daughter. And in a show of sacrifice, the middle sister used her magic for harm, striking down the woman who’d been their friend before she could tell about the babe, even though the sister knew she’d pay penance for an eternity for taking another life. But the secret of the baby died with the woman, so her sacrifice wasn’t for naught.
“They threw rocks at the women and tied their hands behind their backs. But the sisters didn’t fight. They understood their destiny and that they had to die so their legacy could continue through the child. So they were pushed and kicked, stumbling repeatedly, down the hill to the church.
“The townspeople screamed and cried as their protectors were given a sentence of death without trial. But they grew silent out of fear as the mob began to turn on them. The priest the mob had brought with them stood on the stairs of the church, screaming for their repentance and damning their souls to hell when they stayed silent.
“The flames grew hotter and higher, and the eldest sister realized the path for escape was quickly closing—the fire surrounding them all. It was that moment the executioner stepped forward, the blade of his large axe glinting in the firelight. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin in defiance, walking willingly to the black rock where she would meet her end. She didn’t curse her defilers, but she didn’t hold back her power. She used her magic to burn through the ropes binding her wrists and her hand shot into the air, her head thrown back in submission to a higher power. And while the crowd erupted around her, trying to restrain her once more, they couldn’t get to her. Something protected her. And all they could do was stand back and watch in awe.
“Her last act on this earth was selfless, when she could have used her power to save herself instead. Little by little, the flames burning around them dwindled until there was nothing left but smoke and ash. The act took unimaginable power, more than she’d ever used before, and she collapsed in exhaustion onto the black rock. Before she drew her last breath, she reached out to her husband—her soulmate—to make sure he and her daughter were safe. And then she closed her eyes for the last time as the axe fell.”
Barrett didn’t know how long they stood there in silence after he’d finished the story. The wind had died down with his last sentence, and grief like he’d never known plagued him, bringing tears to his eyes from the loss.
Eloise hadn’t responded at all. In fact, she hadn’t moved a muscle in several minutes, but tears streaked down her cheeks, making him feel all the more protective of her.
“What do you think?” he finally asked.
Her body jerked, as if coming out of a trance, and she took a couple of steps away from him before facing him.
“I think you’re a hell of a storyteller.” She wiped the tears from her face and sucked in a deep breath. “I also think you’re a liar and that I’m a fool. Again.”
She turned quickly on her heel to escape, but he stopped her. “Eloise,” he called out. “I’m not a liar. I was only telling you what I saw. I’ve seen visions of stories I wanted to tell like that one my entire life.”
Her laugh was cynical and she took another step.
“You can trust me, you know.” She turned back to look at him and he held out his hand, hoping she’d grab it. He needed the physical touch, because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were connected in more than mind and soul now. He’d gotten a clear picture of the eldest sister in his vision—the one who looked like Eloise. And he’d gotten a glimpse of the soulmate who’d escaped with the child they’d made together. A man who looked to be the reflection of his own image.
What Eloise didn’t know was that that man had never recovered from Amelia Goodnight’s death. He’d lived for the child, until she’d reached an age, but he’d never been whole again. Not without her.
Eloise glanced at his outstretched hand and he could see the indecision on her face. “You come into this town out of nowhere and expect trust? I don’t know you Barrett Delaney.”
“You could if you wanted to. I’m offering you a look. I’ll keep no secrets from you. There’s a reason I was brought here. Don’t you want to know why?”
“I just want to run my shop in peace. That’s all.”
“That seems like a very safe life. Especially for a witch. Wouldn’t you rather take chances and really live?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, stiffly. The she turned her back and he watched her make her way back down the long cobbled street. When she got to the statue of her ancestor she kissed her fingers once and then laid them against the edge of the fountain.
“It’s okay, darling,” he said, remembering Amelia’s last words to her beloved. “We’ll be together again.”
Chapter Six
Eloise tossed and turned most of the night, her dreams plagued with images of the vivid pictures Barrett had painted. In her dreams—nightmares really—she was Amelia Goodnight. And Barrett’s face was the same as John’s—the man who completed her in mind, body, and soul.
Each time she had to say goodbye to the man she loved and the daughter she never got the chance to know, her heart broke all over again. And then the axe fell and she woke, gasping for air and tears drying on her cheeks.
Then sometime before dawn her mind quieted and she fe
ll into a deeper sleep. It was no longer John’s face she saw when she dreamt. There were subtle differences between the two. Barrett’s cheekbones were sharper, his jaw more square, and his hair several shades lighter. But they could have been brothers so eerie was their resemblance.
And she was no longer Amelia. It was just the two of them—a lifetime of someone else’s memories shared between them and their present day bodies. But still…she knew him. Knew she could trust him as he’d asked. And she realized what she’d shared with Sam had been a mockery to the real meaning of soulmates. There was one magic that couldn’t be manipulated or falsified—true love. And what she’d had with Sam had been the biggest illusion of them all.
“You’re a very stubborn witch,” Barrett said, leaning against the door to her workroom. “I always loved that about you.”
“Lets not mix the present with the future. We’re different people now.” Eloise looked around at the familiar space and then down at the sweats, t-shirt and work apron she wore. It was disorienting considering she’d been in bed and her in nightclothes just moments before.
“It’s your dream,” Barrett said with a smile. “I’m more than happy to have you back in the bed. Minus the nightclothes this time.”
“It’s rude to peek at my thoughts.”
“I was sleeping peacefully in my own bed and all of a sudden showed up here. This is your show, honey. If you don’t want me to peek at your thoughts then you should block them.”
Eloise narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “You can be just as aggravating now as you were three hundred years ago.”
“I believe that’s one of the many reasons you loved me. You told me so on more than one occasion.”
“What’s happening here, Barrett? I don’t understand any of this. Minerva has disappeared and says she can’t see what’s going to happen. There’s a warning on the horizon. Then you show up out of the blue, and all I can think is that we’re preparing to repeat the past.”
She took off the apron and folded it, laying it on the work table. She wasn’t sure why she bothered. It was a dream after all.
“I wish I could give you answers, love. I wish I could have found you sooner.”
“This is very strange. It’s like I know you, but I don’t.”
“I’ve spent my entire life roaming from one place to the next, wherever and whenever the urge struck. I didn’t know the reason. But I know that journey is what led me here to you. I’ve seen things my whole life. Been given glimpses of what I shared with you last night, even as a child. I knew that ability was a gift, but I chalked it up to having a creative imagination. It’s why I became a writer.
“You were always a storyteller. You’d sit around the fire at night, carving that pipe you never got the chance to finish and telling the three of us stories.” Eloise shook her head in frustration. “Gah,” she said, scrubbing her hands over her face. “I can’t tell past from present.”
“You will,” he assured her.
“I spent a couple of years in an orphanage when I was around eight years old before I got placed in a foster home.” He laughed and rubbed a hand through his hair. “The first of many I got kicked out of.”
“Troublemaker,” she said, grinning.
“Some things don’t change.”
“But they do. And they can. And they should.”
“Ssh, I’m telling a story that has a point.” He grinned unrepentantly and she looked down at her feet to keep from laughing. She’d never been able to stay mad at him long.
“A lovely nun, Sister Bernadette, who took great pride in rapping my knuckles with a ruler told me if I was going to be making up stories all the time that I should at least write them down on paper and pray to the good Lord that I should be able to support myself with my lies. So that’s what I did. I think it kept me sane. Sometimes the visions are pretty intense. But I know now that the things I saw had truth in them. I told you I recognized you. I thought it was the statue of Amelia, but after I spoke the story, everything fell into place.”
“Just because we were soulmates three hundred years ago, how can you presume to think that we’re soulmates in the present for eternity?”
“How can you not, knowing the powers you harbor in your blood? Like I said, you’re a stubborn witch, but you’ll come around to realizing soon enough. I’m a persistent bastard.”
“My priority is the people Minerva and Lily and I have been charged with protecting. It’s our legacy. It’s why Amelia sacrificed herself. I almost screwed it up before. I can’t take that chance again, Barrett.”
He moved closer and she took a step back, her thighs bumping against the table. Their connection had always been electric, and the last thing she wanted to do was add sex to the mix before she had time to think things through all the way. Once he touched her she’d have trouble remembering her own name, much less her priorities.
“This is your dream, remember?” he said, the corners of his mouth tilting up. “You’re in control.”
“I don’t remember you having this kind of power in your last life.”
His breath feathered against her lips as he laughed and he leaned in closer. “It’s important to learn from the past. Besides, I just want to see if you taste as good as I remember.”
Her heart sighed and her eyelids fluttered closed. He’d always known the right words to say. He was smiling as he kissed her, the softness of his lips brushing once—twice—before settling comfortably and familiarly over hers. And then something powerful rushed through her with the force of a hurricane.
Her body molded against his—warm and soft and pliant—as if she’d been made to fit him perfectly. A missing piece to the puzzle. She breathed him and took the kiss deeper as his hands streaked under her shirt. His fingers were rough against her skin, but sent a thrill of pleasure up her spine as he learned her shape.
It had been so long…that’s all she could think. And she felt the missing pieces of her soul she’d lost after Sam’s betrayal click softly back into place. She hadn’t let herself want—hadn’t let herself feel the needs of a woman for so long.
Magic prickled along her skin, as if it recognized him and approved. He tasted of midnight and stars, the night to her daylight, and she gave a gasp of pleasure when he changed the angle of the kiss, his tongue sliding silkily against hers.
He savored her moans and she tasted his desperation. And the magic linked them, so their hearts and minds were truly one. His body pressed against her and she could feel his arousal, hard against her stomach.
Almost as soon as the kiss started it began to fade. Eloise opened her eyes only to see Barrett shimmering out of focus before her.
“Time to wake up, love.”
Eloise woke to the hazy light of dawn and the pitter-patter of rain pelting her windows. Her body was hot with desire and her heart pounded. She cupped her breasts, heavy with need, and fell back onto the mattress with a groan of frustration. Her lips still tingled from the kisses.
“A hell of a dream, Eloise. And a hell of a distraction.”
Chapter Seven
Eloise couldn’t stop thinking about Barrett. Especially since he’d taken to visiting her dreams every night and she’d taken to avoiding him like crazy during the daylight hours. They were a day away from the next full moon and the protection ritual. That was, if Minerva decided to make an appearance. They could do it with only two, but they wouldn’t have full power unless they were three.
The blood moon hadn’t been their only warning. It seemed like almost every day something unusual caught her eye. A raven had taken to sitting on the railing of the balcony outside of her apartment in the evenings, so she’d had to close her blinds and make sure there were no nooks or crevices visible from the outside. Eyes and ears were everywhere.
She’d taken the time to chant a spell against intruders and sprinkle salt across the threshold of her apartment and shop, and then she’d gone up to the house on the hill where Minerva and Lily still l
ived and had done the same thing there. It would keep anyone out unless they were invited. Unless their magic was stronger than hers. Her stomach felt uneasy at the thought.
It had been on the way to the Goodnight House that she’d first noticed the trees in the park. The leaves of the towering oaks were shriveled and black, the wind scattering them onto the ground so they disintegrated into dust. The bark of the trees looked scorched and there were dead squirrels surrounding the base.
Whatever was causing it was a powerful poison and encroaching into Cauldron’s Hollow inch by inch. Which made the protection ritual all the more necessary and important.
Between the warnings and the nightly visits from Barrett in her dreams, she wasn’t getting a lot of sleep. She wasn’t sure why her mind was manifesting him, especially with such detail. They’d talked for hours the night before, and part of her was saddened to realize that the man her dreams had manifested might not be the Barrett Delaney she’d come to know in reality.
Dreams were a powerful form of magic, and it was easy to become lost in the illusion if you let them go on too long. It was in her dreams that she’d been able to let go of the past. She hadn’t spoken about Sam with anyone since he’d left, not even her sisters. But she’d been able to purge those demons with Barrett as if it were the natural thing to do.
They’d taken to cuddling with each other on the couch in front of her fireplace. At least, things usually started that way before the soft caresses turned into something much more carnal. He’d shown her new heights of pleasure—how to both give and receive it with no shame between them.
She wasn’t sure why her mind hadn’t progressed their physical relationship to actual sex, but they’d tasted and teased each other, explored each other’s bodies until she was as familiar with his as she was her own.
“We can’t keep doing this, Barrett,” she said, gasping as his lips clamped over a puckered nipple. “It’s getting to the point where you’re taking up my every thought.” His tongue swirled around the rosy bud and then he nipped it lightly before kissing his way across to the other breast.
