Heart of Stone (Alice Worth Book 4)

by Lisa Edmonds

  “Then what other kind of magic could do something like this?”

  Malcolm floated back, his expression grave. “Come over here and smell her.”

  Looking puzzled, Sean started in my direction.

  My stomach cramped and I whimpered. “No, stay away.”

  He moved back, his eyes golden, fury radiating off him in waves. “If I get near her, I may cause her more harm than I already have.”

  Malcolm seemed to be thinking. “Is there someone else from your pack who could come over here and see if they can smell something strange? Someone Alice trusts?”

  “Alice, can I ask Nan to come over?” Sean asked me gently.

  “Okay.” My stomach churned and panic threatened to sweep over me again. I was almost hyperventilating. “Please go into another room.”

  He took his cell phone and went into the kitchen. After a moment, I heard his voice speaking urgently, but I couldn’t tell what he was saying.

  Malcolm hovered over me. “I told you something was wrong.”

  “Nobody likes people who say I told you so,” I told him through gritted teeth. I wrapped my arms tighter around my knees and closed my eyes. “Did you get anything from Ashley?”

  “No, but I’m not giving up. I’ll keep trying, once we figure out what the hell is going on here.”

  “Why did you ask Sean to smell me?”

  “Because I think I know why you’re scratching your arms and feeling like you’re still dirty, even though you’ve showered a million times since yesterday. You have been spelled, but not by a mage.”

  I opened my eyes and stared at him. “You mean—?”

  “Yep,” he said grimly. “You’ve got a witch after you, Dorothy, and not the cute nose-twitching kind. More like the flying monkeys and skywriting kind. I do believe you’ve been hexed.”

  11

  Nan arrived about a half-hour after Sean called her. By then the pain in my abdomen had faded to a dull ache, but I had an odd metallic taste in my mouth and my arms and legs itched ferociously.

  When she knocked, Sean came out of the kitchen and headed for the door. Even the sight of him made my stomach rebel and I had to close my eyes and try to think of something else so I didn’t vomit.

  I heard quiet voices and then soft footsteps hurried from the foyer into the living room. “Oh, Alice,” Nan said, her voice a combination of worry and anger.

  I opened my eyes as she knelt beside me and put her hand on my forehead. My mother used to do the same whenever I was sick. Her warm touch was comforting. I closed my eyes again. Tears pricked my eyelids.

  “Sean tells me I’m supposed to see if I can smell anything odd,” Nan said, stroking my hair. “Is it all right if I lean close to you?”

  I took a shaky breath. “Yes.”

  She inhaled deeply several times. “Sean, I smell her blood and your house, of course, plus several other people and a lot of incidental odors from the places she’s been today. All that seems normal. The only thing that’s strange is a smell that reminds me of mud and rotting plants, but with notes of something like burned hair. It’s faint, but I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything quite like it before.”

  “She’s smelled like mud since yesterday,” Sean said from the kitchen. “I assumed it was because of the camp. I thought it was odd, though; if she’d showered, the scent of mud should have been faint or nonexistent, even to me. That plus the way she acted…” He growled. “Damn it, I should have listened to my instincts. They were telling me something was wrong.”

  Nan’s mouth became a grim line. “What’s going on here? What’s wrong with this poor girl?”

  “We think she may have been hexed,” he said.

  “Hexed, as in by a witch? What in heaven’s name for?”

  “Since the effects of the spell seem to only kick in when she’s around me, I think it’s pretty obvious what the hex was supposed to do.” His anger prickled on my arms. “Somebody’s trying to drive us apart, and they don’t care if it kills Alice in the process.”

  Nan went back to stroking my hair. “You don’t think Jack is behind this, do you?”

  “Hiring a witch to hex someone isn’t his style. If he was trying to undermine our relationship, he wouldn’t be underhanded about it. This…” He growled. “This is more like something Delia might do.”

  “First things first,” Nan said briskly. “We have to undo this hex so poor Alice doesn’t suffer any more, and then we’ll have to figure out who was behind it. You mustn’t jump to any conclusions. We’ll follow the evidence and see where it leads us, just like a good investigator would do. Isn’t that right, Alice?” She squeezed my hand. “Now, how do we get rid of a hex?”

  “We need a witch,” Sean said.

  Nan frowned. “How on earth are we going to find a witch? The internet?”

  “The Vampire Court has witches who work for them,” I interjected shakily. “I can call Bryan or Adri.”

  “Not the Court,” Sean stated. I could see his shadow in the kitchen doorway. He stood just around the corner, as close as he could get to me without being in my sight. “I don’t trust anyone they’d send to help you. I know a witch. I’ll call her now.”

  As Sean retreated into the kitchen to make a phone call, I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the nausea and my itchy arms and legs.

  I had no idea Sean knew any witches. He’d never mentioned it, but then again witches and witch magic had never really come up in conversation between us as far as I could remember. I wondered how he’d met a witch.

  “By the pricking of my thumbs,” I muttered and scratched my arm.

  Nan smoothed the hair back from my face and finished the quote. “Something wicked this way comes.”

  I introduced Nan to Malcolm while we waited for Sean’s witch acquaintance to arrive. I hadn’t wanted members of Sean’s pack to know about Malcolm, since he was hiding from Darius Bell, but I believed Nan could be trusted—and besides, I reflected grimly, Bell knew where Malcolm was now, so keeping my ghost secret wasn’t as crucial as it had been even yesterday morning.

  As I expected, Nan took the news of my ghost sidekick in stride. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Ghost.”

  “Call me Malcolm,” he told her cheerily. “Mister Ghost is my father.”

  Nan smiled. “A spirit with a sense of humor. You and Alice must get along well.”

  “Generally speaking, we do, yes.” He hovered over me, clearly worried. “Despite all the trouble she gets herself into, I stick by her side.”

  Nan helped me move from the floor to the couch, but that was as far as I could make it without being carried. She sat down next to me, put my head in her lap, and rubbed my back. My guts churned like I’d swallowed a food processor and my arms and legs itched so badly I had to hug myself tightly to keep from scratching myself to death—maybe literally.

  “Alice?” Sean called from the kitchen. “Can I talk to you, or does that still make you sick?”

  At the sound of his voice, the broken-glass-in-a-blender feeling in my stomach intensified, along with the urge to get somewhere far away from him. I set my jaw and fought to stay calm. Intellectually I knew the sickness and panic were probably the result of a hex, but knowing that didn’t make the pain and fear go away. My frustration became anger and the anger displaced my fear.

  “Go ahead,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “You know I want to be holding you right now and it’s making me furious that I can’t.” His anger prickled on my skin.

  “I know.” My stomach cramped so hard I couldn’t stifle a pained sound. Blast it, I couldn’t even think about us being together without the triple-damned hex kicking in.

  Sean snarled. “I’ll find out who’s behind this and make them pay.”

  “I’ll make them pay,” I corrected him. “Since I’m the one coughing up blood, I get first dibs.”

  He growled. “I’ll flip you for it.”

  I managed a small smile. Nan squeezed my hand.

>   “If Malcolm’s right about this being a hex, how is it possible that a witch can spell you if mages can’t?” Sean wanted to know.

  “Because our magic is completely different.” I took a few deep breaths, trying to settle my stomach so I could at least explain this part of the problem. “There are many kinds of magic, not just one. My magic is natural magic, and my ability to control the power of earth and air is innate. Shifter magic, like vamp and fae magic, is supernatural in origin, which is why mages can’t use it. Witch magic is metaphysical and spiritual. Their power comes from working with what they call universal and elemental energies, and from their gods and goddesses. My natural shields have no effect on witch magic, and I can’t sense their spells or hexes any more than a mundane human can.”

  “That makes sense,” Sean said. He paused, then added, “You’re probably wondering how I know a witch.”

  “I was, actually.” I forced myself to stop scratching my arm.

  “There’s a bit of my Alice.” He sounded relieved. “Her name is Carly Reese. A mutual friend introduced us after you and I split up a few months ago. We went on a few dates.” His voice was uncertain, as if he was concerned about how I would react to the news.

  I blinked. I hadn’t really thought about whether Sean had dated anyone in the month or so we’d been separated after I’d almost died because of Amelia Wharton and the Kasten. I’d been afraid of the intimacy we’d shared and wary of letting him get close enough to realize how traumatized I was, so I’d picked a fight with him and pushed him away.

  “Alice?” he prodded. “I’m sorry I never mentioned her. We had a little bit of a spark, but it wasn’t what either of us were looking for.”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  “He was still thinking about you,” Nan said with a smile as she rubbed my back. “Even before I met you, I knew you had to be an extraordinary woman because all that time you were on his mind.”

  “You were all I could think about,” Sean admitted. “Carly sensed it. She told me I needed to call you or I’d always regret that I didn’t.”

  My stomach cramped. “It’s all right,” I said again, my voice strained. “Your friend can just drop what she’s doing and come over in the middle of the day?”

  “She said it wasn’t a problem. She owns a coffee shop and said her employees could take care of things while she was gone. She should be here any minute.”

  “A witch who owns a coffee shop. I think she and I could be friends.” I closed my eyes and curled up a little tighter.

  A few minutes later, I felt a tingle as someone crossed the perimeter wards. “I think she’s here,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut so I didn’t see Sean heading for the front door. He went outside.

  Nan gently pulled my hands away from my arms and held them tightly. “You’re scratching yourself bloody. When we find this witch who hexed you, I don’t know what I’ll do to them, but it will be unpleasant!”

  “Not half as unpleasant as what I’m going to do,” I muttered.

  The front door opened. “Now you stay outside until I tell you it’s all right to come in,” a firm female voice said. “I need her thinking clearly so we can get to the bottom of this.”

  “All right,” Sean said reluctantly.

  The door closed and footsteps moved quickly from the foyer into the living room. I heard a thump, as if someone had set a heavy bag on the floor.

  “Well, my goodness, you are a mess,” the newcomer said finally.

  I opened my eyes. The petite brunette witch stood with her hands on her hips, her brow furrowed as she looked me over. She wore a blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, a knee-length black skirt, and tall black boots. She appeared to be in her late thirties.

  “Thanks,” I said dryly. “I like your boots.”

  “Aren’t they great? Clearance sale this spring.” She approached the couch. “Hi, I’m Carly Reese.”

  I managed to sit up. “Alice.”

  As Nan introduced herself, I got a better look at my guest. She wore simple hoop earrings and several ornate rings, but I couldn’t see any overt signs she was a witch until I spotted the amulet necklace tucked inside her shirt.

  The inside of her right forearm bore a colorful tattoo of flowering vines. When I looked closer, I saw runes disguised in the foliage. My own tattoos contained hidden runes and spellwork. I wondered if Carly’s held magic too, and if so, what kind.

  “Well, let’s see if we can figure out what’s going on,” Carly said briskly. “I’m told you’re itchy and your stomach hurts and you smell like mud, rotting plants, and burned hair. That could be a couple of things, so let me ask you some questions. When did you start feeling like you didn’t want Sean to touch you?”

  I thought about it. “Yesterday morning, on our way back to his house after the birthday party, I think everything was fine. When we got back to his house, he tried to put his arms around me and I didn’t want him to. Then he wanted to lie down with me to take a nap and I remember thinking I wouldn’t be able to sleep with him so close to me.”

  “And the dirty, itchy feeling? Did it start around the same time?”

  I made a face. “A few hours later, I think. That one’s harder for me to pin down because I spent the weekend at a survival camp with a friend and I came home feeling dirty from that. We crawled around in the mud a lot.”

  “That sounds like a lot of fun,” she said. She’d clearly never been to one of the damn things. “Does the dirty, itchy feeling intensify when you’re around Sean?”

  “That seems fairly constant. The nausea and stomach pain do get worse, though—much worse.”

  “Did it start out as mild and get more severe between yesterday and today?”

  I nodded. “Yesterday, it was more like discomfort. At the time, I thought the nausea and pain were caused by healing spells and anxiety about the case I’m working on. Now, looking back, I realize it got worse when we were together and better when we were apart.” I gestured at the floor. “Today, I panicked and tried to run away from him. When he grabbed my arm, I coughed up blood. That’s when we figured out I might have been spelled or hexed.”

  Her mouth became a grim line. “Yesterday morning, at some point after you left the birthday party, can you remember feeling dizzy or disoriented, or maybe smelling smoke?”

  “I don’t remember smelling smoke, but something strange did happen right as we got back to his house after the party,” I told her. “When I went to get out of his truck, I blacked out for just a moment and fell. I thought I was just tired or I’d tripped on something. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Is that when the spell kicked in?”

  “I certainly think so. That’s likely the moment the spell was invoked. One more question: have you noticed any items of clothing or jewelry go missing recently?”

  I frowned. “Yesterday morning I couldn’t find the scarf I’d planned to wear to the party.” Anger made magic spark on my fingertips. “A piece of my clothing would be a key ingredient in a spell like this, wouldn’t it?”

  “If it’s the type of hex I think it is, yes it would. And since Miss Nan can smell a hint of burned hair on you, I’d guess they used some of your hair, too.”

  My thoughts raced. “They couldn’t have come in here to get anything. My house is heavily warded.”

  “I noticed,” Carly said wryly. “Being inside it feels like I’m standing next to a high-voltage power line. When this is over and we’ve gotten you de-hexed, I’d love to talk wards and spellwork with you and compare notes.”

  “I’d like to do that, really. I’ve never really gotten to talk magic with a witch.” I pressed my hands to my stomach. “I had the scarf at Sean’s house, so whoever took it was someone he let in.”

  Nan spoke up. “Not the witch who cast the spell, but someone else—someone in our pack.” She was angrier than I’d ever seen her. Her eyes were bright gold. I had the sudden feeling Sean might
not get a chance to deal with the traitor, not if Nan got to him or her first.

  “Very possibly,” Carly said. “The first order of business is to undo this hex. I’m fairly certain I know what kind of spell this is, and if I’m right, I can break it without too much trouble.”

  “Great. Did you bring what you’ll need to break it?”

  “Yes, but it’s not that simple.”

  I sighed. “Of course it isn’t.”

  Carly sat on the loveseat. “Let me explain what I think happened. Based on what you’ve told me, I believe you’ve been hexed with a spell called Push a Lover Away. Its original purpose was probably to cause you to no longer have feelings for Sean and break up your relationship.”

  “But why make her feel itchy and dirty?” Nan wanted to know. “And if the spell was just supposed to make Alice push Sean away, why is she in so much pain and coughing up blood?”

  “If I had to guess, I’d say the itching and unclean feelings were added at the request of whoever bought the hex, probably to make Alice as miserable as possible. You’re probably looking for someone who is spiteful and thinks they were wronged.”

  I knew quite a few of those people, unfortunately. “And the pain? I thought witches believed in doing no harm—that by causing others pain, they risked bringing it back on themselves threefold.”

  “Most do believe in the Rede and the Threefold Law. I certainly abide by them. Obviously the witch who made the spell doesn’t. I can’t know for certain just yet, but the pain you’re experiencing might not have been intended.” Carly waved her hands. “I’m getting ahead of myself, so let me back up. I think someone approached a witch with a request to break up your relationship. The witch created a poppet, or a lifelike doll, and filled it with the necessary ingredients. Then she spoke the spell and gave it to whoever wanted it, along with instructions on how to invoke it by saying your full name three times. But if they said your name more than three times—five or seven times, let’s say—it would make the spell stronger, to the point of causing you pain. If they said your name more than that, it could kill you outright.”