Page 16 of Wicching Hour (The Sea Wicche Chronicles #3)

SIXTEEN

No!

“M e what happened? How about you what happened?” I stood and pushed him back in the door.

“Did Carter do something?” he growled.

I glanced around, trying to figure out what that big noise was. A couple of bottles and jars had tipped over in the kitchen. Luckily their tops were on. “Did you jump down from the loft? That’s like thirty feet.”

“Of course I did,” he said. “Your heartbeat stopped and then raced. What happened?”

My phone buzzed, so I took out the last batch and then pushed him toward the stairs. “I’ll tell you once you lay down again.”

He threw me over his shoulder. “Fine, but you can come with me,” he said as he took the stairs two at a time.

“Don’t even think about it,” I hissed. “We’re surrounded by people who can hear you breathing. We’re not messing around. And I still need to find out what else Carter was going to tell me.”

He put me down and then went into the bathroom to move his clothes from the washer to the dryer. “There. Now the next time I have to run to your rescue, I can be wearing pants.” He sat back in bed and leaned against the headboard.

I sat on the end of the bed and explained what Carter had been telling me.

“A podcast about you? About you being a wicche?” he asked.

“Carter?” I called.

A moment later, my back door opened. I moved to the stop stair and sat down, so I could see both men.

“Can you finish what you were telling me?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He lifted his nose and zeroed in on the cookies cooling on the counter.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Just leave some for the others.”

He went to the kitchen, grabbed a handful, and then went back to stand near the door. Declan couldn’t see Carter from where he was, but I watched him physically relax as Carter moved farther away. Clearly this was a shifter thing because Carter knew to stand as far away as he could while still being in the studio.

He held up a cookie and said, “These are really good, by the way,” and then tossed one in his mouth. “There are three episodes up. They all look pretty short: maybe twenty minutes. I only listened to the first one and then came here to warn you.”

“Okay. I’m sitting down. How much can he know?” My hands were fisted in my lap. Secrecy was paramount. Without it, we had a history of dying rather badly.

Carter shook his head. “The guy comes off crazed—to me. The pitch of his voice says panic. I doubt humans will pick up on that, though. Anyway, he talked about there being real witches in the world. How they were evil and preying on good, honest people.”

He ate another cookie. “At first, I thought this would be a funny podcast. I was hoping that image of what looks like you in the graphic was a strange coincidence, but then he talked about living in a seaside town and it got far less humorous. He said he met a witch who was pretending to be an artist, like the witch in Hansel and Gretel pretended to welcome the children and invite them to dinner.”

“Oh, shit,” I said under my breath. I had to warn Mom and Gran.

“He said she’d choked him with her magic,” Carter continued, “almost killing him and then her vicious monster guardian picked him up off the ground with one hand and threatened to eat him.” Carter looked up at the half-wall of the loft. “I assumed that monster was you, Declan.”

Declan growled, deep and angry.

“Yeah, thought so,” Carter replied. “Anyway, he talked about how dangerous and demonic witches are, how they needed to be captured and burned.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “He’s human. I can’t go pound him into oblivion, but I’m worried that one of his handful of listeners will decide to act on his words.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” I began chanting quietly.

“Can you see?” Declan asked. “How many listeners does he actually have? If there are only three and they live in other countries, we have time to deal with him.”

Carter ate the last cookie and took out his phone again. He swiped through and said, “I can’t tell how many have listened to it, but he has one hundred and thirteen ratings. When I listened this morning, there were eighteen ratings.”

“That’s a big jump in a few hours,” I said. How do we fix this?

“He could be advertising somewhere,” Carter suggested, “or be in an online group of like-minded weirdos and they’re passing on the information.”

I did an internet search on the podcast and found multiple listings for the different platforms that offered the podcast and then saw a Reddit thread about it. There were only a few comments, but one of the posters had named me and my gallery. Shitshitshitshit .

“I know you have cameras all around, but you might want to hire proper security. I’m only here when the gallery’s open. I think you need someone around all the time. All this witch burning talk has me worried about you and the gallery.”

“I have an idea about security,” Declan said. “Let me work on that. In the meantime, are there any other spells you can do to protect yourself?”

I shrugged. “Mom, Gran, and I warded the hell out of the place. It should be fine, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.” I had a thought. “We need to ward Bracken’s RV too. He’s in danger, being so close to me.”

I stood, realized I couldn’t go anywhere yet, and sat back down. “Once Melissa and her crew are done, I can meet with Mom and Gran…and we…” My head began to pound and my vision went dark. Oh, no. I was on stairs. I?—

Gran is sitting in her living room by the fire, drinking tea and reading a book. Outside, a giant, hairless beast skulks, circling the house, sniffing at doors, peering in windows, waiting for Gran to leave the safety of her warded home. Drool drips from his fangs, burning holes in the patio. It scratches its razor-sharp claws against the window. Gran looks up, but not seeing anything, tugs the warm shawl around her shoulders and sips her tea.

In a torch-lit basement, a woman pores over an ancient, hand-written grimoire filled with the foulest spells ever imagined. A small animal whimpers in the corner as the woman crushes tiny bones with a mortar and pestle. The stench makes me lightheaded. The fur and feathers of previous sacrifices are heaped in the corner. The chanting begins and my stomach twists.

The vision goes black and then…

Bracken is in his RV at his desk, reading over a journal and drinking a cup of tea. It’s the middle of the night, but he hears voices outside. When he looks out the window, the RV shudders, like it’s been hit by something large. He gets to his feet and is thrown back in his chair. The RV rocks violently from side to side.

He throws a spell, but the RV is already crashing onto its side. Bracken is crushed beneath his heavy wooden desk. Hand up, he pushes his magic against the desk, shoving it off his crushed middle, and then he sees the smoke. All of his books, his precious histories, are going up in flames.

The vision goes black and then…

Hester hands a child a peanut butter-chocolate chip cookie. He takes a bite as his mother pays for it and grins, looking at all the octopuses. The child takes another big bite, thinking about the Monterey Bay Aquarium where he saw a real octopus. It was so cool, even if it did hide. He saw the tentacles come out and it made him feel both scared and happy. His stomach starts to hurt.

His mom is still talking to the lady behind the counter. He knows it’s rude to interrupt. He looks at his cookie. It’s so good. It’ll help. He takes another big bite, hoping the good taste will cover the bad pain.

He drops to the ground, convulsing, bloody foam on his lips.

“No!” I shot up and realized I was being held in place. Declan was sitting on the top step, his arms around me.

“Is she okay?”

I heard Carter’s voice, but the waves and wind were making him hard to hear. I turned in Declan’s lap and looked down the steep stairs to find Carter standing outside the open door. Melissa moved into view and looked through the door, worry lining her face.

“Everything’s fine,” Declan growled. “You know she’s a Cassandra wicche. That’s why your brother is always asking for her help. She’s perfectly fine. Close the door.”

Carter did and walked Melissa back to the gallery door.

I tipped my head onto Declan’s shoulder. “I thought for sure I was going to break my neck tumbling down those stairs. It came on so fast, I couldn’t scoot myself back, away from the drop.”

He hadn’t let go yet. “When you’re falling into a vision, your eyes go glassy and vacant. As soon as you lost the thread of what you were saying, your eyes went blank and I was up and diving for you. You were going head-first down the stairs when I caught you.” He squeezed me tighter. “Don’t do that again.”

He stood and carried me back to bed, sitting on the edge with me still in his lap. “You scared a good decade off me.”

I kissed his cheek. “Sorry about that.”

He shook his head. “Not your fault.”

There was a knock at the studio door.

“Come in,” I called.

“Ms. Corey?” Melissa asked.

“Yup,” I said. “I’m up here. Do you need me down there?”

Declan growled, making his opinion on my moving quite clear.

“No, ma’am. I just wanted you to know that we were done. We’re all loaded up. We’ll make sure your art is delivered in perfect condition.”

“Thank you! Oh, there are cookies cooling on the stove. Please take them all and share them with your crew.”

“Thank you.” I heard footsteps crossing the studio. “They’re delicious. I had a hard time keeping their heads on business once they smelled what you were baking.”

I grinned, snuggling into Declan. “Good. I’m glad you all liked them. Hopefully, Milo liked his tea.”

“Oh—I’m not sure he ever had any,” she said. “Doesn’t matter. We hope you’re feeling better soon.”

“I’m fine. Declan is feeling particularly protective right now. That’s all. I’m good.”

“Thank goodness. The crew will be happy to hear that. Also, I was thinking. Instead of our returning in November to pack and ship all those octopuses, how about if we come every month and pack up whatever you have ready? You won’t have to deal with all the space they take, and we won’t have to pack that many all at once. I’m afraid of something getting broken.”

“That’s a great idea. Let me check with my agent and see if we can do partial shipments early. We’ll get back to you,” I said, rubbing my hand up and down the arm Declan had wrapped around me.

“Sounds good. Thank you for choosing us, and we’ll see you again soon,” she said before the door closed behind her.

I waited a few minutes and whispered, “All clear?”

“She just went out the back door…is walking across the deck…and is now being rushed for the cookies. We’re clear.”

I flicked my fingers, locking up.

Declan adjusted me on his lap so he could see my face. “You want to tell me what you saw? Because you came out of that one ready to fight.”