Thierry glanced toward Heather, who’d gone a pale shade of green. She didn’t speak. Instead, Rose took over.
“In three days,” Rose said, her expression sympathetic, “a spirit loses all connections with the mortal world.”
“Which means”—I inhaled sharply and met Thierry’s serious gaze—“in three days I’ll lose you forever.”
Chapter 7
Thierry nodded grimly.
I gripped the edge of the table tightly so it would help me keep standing. Then I turned a fierce look in Heather’s direction. It must have been fierce, since she literally cringed. “Then you are going to find a solution for me in the next three days.”
She blanched. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You can. And you will.” I meant every single word. “Your séance made this happen, and now you’re going to fix it.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “But I don’t know how!”
How could she not know? She could summon spirits with a snap of her fingers. She could fill a room with a shiver of electricity when she got riled up. This girl had magic in her whether she believed it or not.
Rose looked dire as well. “I don’t know, either, I’m afraid. Only the most powerful witch’s grimoire could contain magic that might be able to restore a spirit to its original body.” She nodded thoughtfully. “It’s really quite fascinating—don’t you think?”
She and I obviously had differing opinions on fascinating.
“Like I said,” Owen murmured, “you and me, Sarah. It’s not such a bad match when you think about it.”
I shot him a withering glare.
“Excuse me?” Thierry hissed, and the room’s temperature dropped a few more degrees. “What did you just say?”
Owen cleared his throat. “No offense, Thierry, but I think she’d have much more fun with me in the long run. Tell me one thing that you two have in common. It isn’t karaoke; that much I know.”
“You know nothing about us.” Thierry’s tone was pitch-black. “You’re simply a fool who talks to hear himself speak, but your words hold no meaning—just as your life held no meaning other than a quest for momentary pleasures. It was always that way with you.”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding, thoroughly impressed by Thierry’s skill at being menacing. “What he said.”
“Does she know half of what you’ve been accused of in the past, or have you shared only the more pleasant stuff?” Owen asked, smiling darkly. “What? You don’t think she could handle it?”
The room chilled a few more degrees.
“If you’re trying to help your case,” I said, every bit as ominously as Thierry had before, “you’re failing miserably. Now, I want my husband’s spirit returned to his body right this minute, and then you can feel free to continue on to find your afterlife booty call.”
Owen gave me a wry look. “Oh, come on, Sarah. You didn’t even know I wasn’t him for a while. Almost long enough, Thierry, for her to get to know me a little better. If you know what I mean.”
His controlled exterior finally shattering, Thierry attempted to grab hold of Owen’s borrowed throat. Instead, his fingers slipped right through like tendrils of smoke.
“Don’t push me,” Thierry growled. “I’ve given you far too many chances already.”
Owen regarded Thierry’s spirit with a sour look as he got to his feet. “Yeah, yeah. I’m so scared. Now you’re the harmless ghost and I’m the one with the heartbeat. It might be stolen, but sometimes you need to take what you can get. I need a body and yours will do nicely, thanks.”
Panic rose inside me as I realized Owen was going to give us a hard time and fight to keep Thierry’s body. This wasn’t part of the plan.
Heather stood up from the table as well, staring at Owen as if this outburst had surprised her. “You can’t be serious.”
“Can’t I? It’s probably your love and devotion to me that even made this possible. What do you say, Heather? Does this body do it for you? Want to give it a test drive later?”
Her expression fell. “You’re disgusting.”
He smirked. “I thought you were pledging your never-ending love to me a minute ago.”
I exchanged a tense look with Thierry, only an arm’s reach away from me.
“What do we do?” I asked him quietly.
“We find a solution.”
“What do you suggest?”
“First and foremost, Owen must stay here. You can’t let him leave town.”
“Sorry,” Owen said with an easy shrug, “but I really don’t think you’re in a position to stop me. I have the power now. I know you always hated my guts, Thierry. Why should I care to help you now?”
Fury flashed across Thierry’s expression. “You selfish son of a—”
And then he vanished like someone had flicked a switch.
I reached forward to where he’d been standing, my eyes widening with shock. “Thierry? Where did he go? Heather! Bring him back!”
She gave me a scared look. “I don’t know why he disappeared.”
“Heated emotions will do it.” Rose was still seated at the table. She patted Hoppy on his back absently, receiving a low croak in response. “That surge of energy makes a spirit’s lightbulb pop. It’ll take him a while to gather himself back together and reenter the mortal world. He’ll be back. He’s a fighter, that one.”
Owen brushed the sleeve of Thierry’s suit jacket and straightened his collar. “I should probably be on my way.”
My chest tightened. “You’re not going anywhere, mister.”
“Wait.” Heather ran out of the room and returned only a few moments later with a small, black, leather-encased book.
“Is that Rose’s grimoire?” Owen said, bored. “Going to make some flowers bloom?”
“No flowers today.” Her expression held no humor. “Grandma? Remember the spell for Baxter?”
“Page sixty-two,” Rose replied. “Ah, yes. Baxter. The mutt who kept trying to run away and hump every lady dog in a three-mile radius. The similarity is uncanny.”
Heather flipped forward through the pages.
Owen rolled his eyes. “Sarah, one last chance to come with me on an adventure of a lifetime. You, me, this body—we could have tons of fun.”
He was literally going to do it. Just take Thierry’s body and march right out of here like it meant nothing.
I blocked his path as he tried to leave the séance room. “You’re not leaving. Even if I need to restrain you myself.”
“Are you kidding? I now have the strength of a master vampire. That’s major, sweetheart. A fledgling would have as much luck holding me in place as a house cat wrestling a mountain lion.”
“You might be surprised how sharp my claws are.”
He pushed past me and headed toward the front door, where the large wall mirror didn’t show either of our reflections. I zipped in front of him and blocked the door, holding my arms out to either side of me.
I hadn’t thought of him as an evil guy before—maybe a bit deluded and self-absorbed at the most—but I’d now upgraded him to aspiring villain.
“No way. You’re not leaving here with Thierry’s body. What part of this don’t you understand?”
This got another eye roll. “The not leaving part.”
Grabbing hold of my upper arms, he shoved me to the right with enough power to launch me halfway into the living room. I slammed hard into an end table and knocked a lamp to the floor, where it shattered.
His eyes widened as if he was shocked at his own strength. “Sorry about that. But stay out of my way and you won’t get hurt. Okay?”
I just lay there for a moment, stunned, until Rose came over to help me back up to my feet. I knew Thierry was strong, but—well, I hadn’t personally experienced it before quite like this. He was Hulk strong. Hulk Smash strong. And now Owen had every bit of that master vampire strength at his fingertips.
The front door creaked as he swung it open.
I hadn’t
been able to keep him here through force of will, so I’d have to try a different tactic. “Please don’t go! Please, Owen, we can find another way.”
“Another way? Your way means that I stay dead. I like this way better.” His brows drew together. “Sorry, really, but I have no other choice here. I gotta look out for number one.”
He turned toward the open door and took a step onto the porch.
Heather entered the foyer, holding the grimoire tightly in her hands. She was reciting a spell in Latin, reading it from the pages—the same short phrase over and over.
The tingling electricity from before returned to charge the air.
Owen took a shaky step backward. Then another one, and another, until he was fully back inside the house. The door swung shut behind him.
A little blood trickled from Heather’s nose. She absently wiped it away.
“Be careful, honey,” Rose cautioned. “You’re pushing it too far.”
Heather twisted her fingers into the chain of her necklace and kept reciting the spell without stopping.
Owen glanced over his shoulder. “What are you doing? That doggy spell?”
She nodded, still speaking in Latin. Never hesitating once.
I tried very hard not to pay attention to the fact that she was bleeding.
I mean, I was a vampire. And blood was distracting even while currently low on my list of priorities. Finally, I tore my attention away from her and focused again on Owen.
“Good luck with that.” Owen opened the door and strode outside, skipping down the five steps leading toward the driveway. I was about to chase after him when Rose caught my arm.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “The spell will buy us some time.”
Heather closed the grimoire with a snap.
That very moment, Owen smashed into something invisible that stopped him in his tracks. He held his hands up, touching the air like a mime stuck in an invisible box.
He sent a glance over his shoulder. “Cute trick.”
Heather offered him a thin smile. “Doggy spell.”
“Let me leave.”
She shook her head. “Can’t do that. This barrier works to keep you within ten paces of the house. You’re not going anywhere, bad dog.”
Owen groaned and his pout was back. “I thought you said you loved me. Don’t you want me to be happy?”
She wiped at her bloody nose, her strong expression wavering. Then she lifted her chin. “I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have let my emotions overrule my head. And here we are.”
He pushed up against the invisible barrier for another few minutes before giving up and heading back inside. He didn’t look as defeated as I expected, faced with two witches of varying power, a pissed-off vampire, and an oblivious toad.
“What’s with the smug look?” I rubbed my arm, bruised after my airborne trip across the room into the table.
He shrugged. “You can’t keep me here.”
“Sure we can,” Heather insisted, glancing at her grandma for backup.
“We can,” Rose agreed. “And we will. You’re not going anywhere, Owen.”
Owen peeled off Thierry’s jacket and threw it over the back of a nearby easy chair, then rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt. “Did you forget the part about me being as strong as a master vampire now? I can take this place apart brick by brick if I have to.”
And, if he was so inclined, he could murder every one of us with his bare hands. Or his bare fangs.
I shivered at the thought. Was Owen Harper that dangerous?
Heather didn’t seem nearly as concerned. Then again, she’d known Owen longer than I had. “I don’t think you’d do that. You know how much I love this place.”
“Oh really?” He moved to a table near the door and flicked off a crystal vase. It shattered on the floor.
Her expression fell. “That was a family heirloom, you jerk!”
Rose just watched their exchange with curiosity. “Feeling tired yet, Owen?”
“Tired? Why would I feel tired? I’m alive, I’m devastatingly handsome, I’m healthy, I’m . . .” He yawned and stretched his arms. “I’m so, so tired.”
I exchanged a look with Heather. “Part of the spell?”
She looked just as surprised as I was. “Grandma?”
“A spell within a spell.” Rose nodded. “Baxter required mandatory initial downtime to deal with his naughty behavior. Couldn’t have him destroy the furniture.”
“Which means?” I asked.
“It means you suck. All of you.” Owen dropped to his knees. He slowly crawled toward the couch but didn’t quite make it. Finally, he curled up on the area rug in the fetal position and fell asleep.
Rose studied the six feet of vampire now dozing on their living room floor. “Not sure how long it’ll last on somebody who isn’t a dog. Up to a day, I would think.”
This did nothing to ease my mind, but it did give us a small window of time to work with. “You said before, Rose, that a powerful witch might have a grimoire with the magic to reverse what’s happened to Thierry, right?”
She nodded. “I did say that.”
“Then it’s simple. We need to find a powerful witch.”
Heather and Rose exchanged a look.
“There is somebody, isn’t there?” I prompted. “Somebody who can help?”
Heather chewed her bottom lip nervously. “Well, I honestly don’t know how powerful she is, but I’ve heard some rumors. She might be able to help us.”
A powerful witch in Salem. The last time I was looking for one of those, it was to figure out who was the murderer who’d thrown a death spell in Owen’s direction. Now I needed one to help me. My appreciation and use for witches seemed to be on a sliding scale. “You’re not talking about Miranda, are you?”
She shook her head. “No. Miranda’s coven leader.”
I knew that scotch-swilling blonde was in a coven. “Okay, then let’s go.”
“It’s too late.” Rose glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner, which now read twelve thirty. Time sure flew when dealing with ghosts and possessions and wandering vampires. “Go see her tomorrow at noon.”
“Why noon?” I was thinking the crack of dawn. Why waste time?
“That’s when their coven meets so we’ll know she’s definitely there,” Heather said without any friendliness. After all, this was the coven she wasn’t invited to join. “And Raina Wilkins, well, she’s not exactly the friendliest person in town. She likes her privacy.”
“But both of you think she might have a grimoire that could help us.”
Heather looked thoughtful. “Raina’s family has allegedly been in Salem since the Mayflower arrived. And there are rumors that there was a powerful witch in her family line killed during the Salem trials, but her death was never documented. And more rumors that it’s this witch’s grimoire that can be found somewhere in her house.”
“That’s a lot of rumors.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry we can’t be more specific.”
Me too. But sometimes you had to take what you could get. Tonight I’d have to be satisfied with the promise of rumors and the hope that tomorrow would bring solid answers. “Okay, fine. Tomorrow at twelve o’clock we’re going to go crash a coven meeting.”
Heather looked ill at this prospect. I looked determined.
Or at least I thought I would if I could see my reflection down here.
• • •
The small room seemed even smaller without company that night, and it took me forever to go to sleep. But finally I did. I dreamed that the Ring had imprisoned Thierry, holding him in a medieval dungeon until he answered their questions.
I woke when a swarm of armor-wearing bees swept through the air.
Then I realized it was my cell phone buzzing next to me on my pillow.
YOU HAVE TODAY ONLY TO LEARN MORE OF THIERRY’S MISSING YEARS. THE ELDERS WANT ANSWERS.—MR
Heart racing, I began to type “The elders can go
to hell,” but then deleted it. I was crazy, but not that crazy.
Thanks for nothing, Markus.
After having another moment of crazy when I nearly texted Markus back to ask him for help with regard to the possession, I shoved my phone into my purse. I wasn’t that desperate yet.
Soon, I was sure. But not yet.
I sat vigil next to Thierry’s unconscious body in the living room all morning. I’d managed to get him onto the couch last night and thrown a knitted afghan over him.
I touched his face, stroking the dark hair off his forehead. “I got this, Thierry. Don’t worry about a thing, okay?”
Sleeping Beauty did not respond.
His body stayed there, safely unconscious. His spirit did not make another appearance. I tried not to dwell on that and wonder what horrible things it could mean.
I focused on two things, witch and grimoire, while I paced back and forth, an eye on the grandfather clock.
Rose gardened with Hoppy out back in the bright sunshine. Heather skimmed every book in their library she could find on the subject of ghosts.
Finally, it was time to go.
“Will Thierry’s spirit come back all on his own or will it take another séance?” I asked Heather as we left the inn, cringing as I spoke the words out loud.
She fumbled for her car keys. “I don’t know.”
I hissed out a breath. “Considering the magic you can do, I’m surprised you don’t know these things.”
Doubt etched into her expression. “I can’t do anything.”
“But you can. You did it all last night.”
She twisted a finger into her gold chain. “I know, but it’s not like . . .” She blanched. “I can do some minor grimoire magic and séances. But, well, that’s different from really powerful magic.”
I eyed her pendant. “Your mom was a strong witch, right?”
“Yeah, she was amazing, actually. She and Grandma never got along so well, and they were usually arguing about me—Grandma knew I had more magic in me, but Mom never wanted to push me too hard to learn. And now, real magic . . . I don’t have any control over that, not like she did.”
I guess we had different ideas about “real magic.” All I knew for sure was that Heather could do more magic than I could. If you didn’t count that really cool card trick I knew. And that wasn’t going to help us out at all right now.
Bled & Breakfast Page 9
