Page 18 of Wicching Hour (The Sea Wicche Chronicles #3)

EIGHTEEN

And Bracken Makes Three

M om walked to the side of the RV. It had been parked about a foot from the wall of the gallery.

Mom looked back at me. “There isn’t much room for it to tip back and forth.” Her focus shifted to Bracken. “Were you planning to go anywhere?”

Bracken and I shared a look and then he nodded. “Arwyn and I were going car shopping. I need something smaller for driving around town.”

Mom walked back around. “Good, then. Now you know not to take this to car shop.”

“I can take them,” Declan said, walking around the back of the RV from the deck.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.” I poked him in the side and then remembered I’d already taken off my gloves. “Oh, damn.” I went to the water’s edge and caught a shot of water.

“That actually works perfectly,” I said when I returned. “Then we’ll know if there’s enough headroom for you.”

“If you’re trying to find a car I fit in,” Declan said, “your options are going to be severely limited.” He looked at me. “And I’m here because your groceries were just delivered. I didn’t know whose was what, so I put all the perishables in your fridge. I figured you could separate the orders when you’re done here.”

“Good,” Mom said. “You can keep an eye on things while we work.”

“Please and thank you,” I added on an eye roll.

“They were implied,” Mom assured us.

Bracken and I moved to where Mom was standing near the gallery wall.

“I think a simple sticking spell,” she said, “so it can’t be tipped. Then we’ll ward against everything else.”

“Especially fire, please.” Bracken’s gaze moved between the two of us. “I’ve been building my collection for over fifty years. Many are one of a kind books that can’t be replaced.”

Mom nodded. “Fire will be the priority.”

“Okay,” I said, holding my bare hands up. “I have no idea what’s going to happen. I’m going to focus on protective spells, but shared visions aren’t out of the question.”

They each took a hand and then?—

A man sneers. I can’t see his face, just his sneering lips and smoke-stained teeth. His thick fingers wrap around the neck of a bottle with a threadbare rag hanging out of the top. A chunky silver ring in a shape of a heavy metal cross sits on his thumb as he flicks a cigarette lighter with a broken, dirty nail.

A tall flame shoots up and is put to the rag. It catches fire. Adrenaline pumps as the man reaches back and then launches the bottle against the side of the gallery. Old work boots, peeling at the creases, run to a waiting sun-faded blue pickup truck. The edges of the running board and the fender are being eaten by rust. He jumps into the passenger seat even as the truck kicks up pebbles, racing down the dark, empty coast route.

The vision goes black and then…

A boat bobs in the rough ocean waters. It’s storming and waves are capsizing over the stern. The boat reads Bishop’s Queen . It’s tossed in the tumult. White knuckles grasp the tiller. A piercing scream cuts through the roar of the storm. A young woman, her black braids whipping in front of her face, is thrown against the older woman desperately trying to keep the boat from capsizing.

The young woman grabs the tiller too and tilts her head into the wind. Faith. Her mother—Elizabeth—grabs Faith and holds her tight just as a huge wave bucks the boat and sends them both overboard under the deadly waves.

Mom gasped and we were standing beside the RV, still hand in hand.

Bracken blinked rapidly and then said, “My. That was extraordinary. Is it always like that?”

Mom shook her head. “At least we aren’t on the ground.”

I glanced between the two. “It was different because you were a part of it,” I told Bracken. “You have an eye for detail, so we were focused on the details.”

He nodded. “I got the license plate number. You can give that to your detective friends.”

“I didn’t see that,” I said and almost dropped my hands. “Wait. Let’s do the wards first and then we can discuss what we all saw. If this vision was like previous shared visions, we all saw something a little different.”

Mom nodded, looking up at the clear blue skies. “I’ll call Elizabeth when we’re done to tell her to stay off her sailboat for a while.”

The magic felt different with Bracken involved. He tempered the strong female power with his own, and he was very powerful. Why had no one ever told me that? Never mind. I knew why. They’d discounted him as a child, and he’d been cut adrift to develop his skills on his own.

The warding went faster than usual. Granted, we were warding a much smaller residence, but still, we were a strong three. By the time we finished, though, my left hand was cramping. Bracken had had a death grip on it while we worked.

I tried my best to inconspicuously shake it out, but apparently I wasn’t as sneaky as I’d thought because Declan was suddenly holding my hand and massaging it.

Bracken stared thoughtfully at the water and my mom pulled out her phone to call Aunt Elizabeth. I leaned into Declan, my head sore. A moment later, his strong fingers were in my hair, rubbing my scalp.

“Do you read minds too?” I whispered.

“You have a very expressive face.” He kissed me and then led me back to the deck. “Let’s all go in and you can discuss your vision.”

Mom held up a finger to let us know she needed a minute. Bracken followed quietly behind us.

When we got to the back door of the studio, I turned to my great-uncle. “Is everything all right?”

He looked up from the deck. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Of course. Just thinking.” He followed us and then got a new look in his eye. “I need to check your stores for poison.” He went to the refrigerator first, opening the side-by-side refrigerator and freezer doors. Closing his eyes, he held up his hands and slowly drew them from the top to the bottom, never touching anything.

When he was done, he closed the doors. “No poison.” He turned to the storage closets I used as my pantry. He’d seen me go into them before and so knew where to look. It took a few minutes, but then he turned, shaking his head. “Your stores are clear. So, how will the poison be introduced?” He was talking to himself, but we were all thinking the same thing.

Mom walked in a moment later. “Your aunt says they had planned to go sailing this Sunday, but they’re canceling those plans.”

I nodded, the tightness in my chest relaxing. “Bracken says I’m poison-free.”

Bracken held up a hand. “Not so fast.” He pointed to the gallery door. “Isn’t there food out there?”

I thought about it and realized I hadn’t put the food away yet. Nodding, I followed him into the gallery. He walked behind the display case and slid open one of the doors before taking a step back almost immediately.

He turned to find me watching. “I’m sorry, my dear, but there is definitely poison in this case.” He slid open the other door, held up a hand, and then shook his head, sliding it closed again. “That side is fine. The poison is on this side.”

Mom stood at the front of the case and looked in. “You have a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie on the bottom shelf.”

Bracken, surprisingly spry, crouched easily and held his hand over the cookie. He nodded. “Yes.” He checked the few items left in the case. Two more had been poisoned.

I grabbed a trash bag from under the café sink and threw everything in, whether it was poisoned or not.

When I got to the cookie, Mom said, “Wait. If you touch it, can you see who poisoned it?”

“No!” Declan roared.

Mom jumped but Bracken patted Declan’s shoulder. “It’s not that kind of poison, son. It has to be ingested. Arwyn will be perfectly fine.”

I slipped off my glove and Declan said, “Wait.” He came over, sat in front of the open door of the display case and then pulled me down into his lap. “You’re not hitting the floor.” He wrapped his arms around me and then rested his chin on my shoulder. “Be careful,” he growled.

I reached out and touched the cookie with my fingertip.

“Come here, child. You remember what I told you, don’t you?” An older woman with pale skin, pale eyes, and dyed black hair crooks her finger for her grandson. Milo. “You heard what she said about the power we’ll have if we help her.” She places a small fabric pouch in Milo’s hand. “I spelled it to keep her away from you. We don’t need her getting nosey.”

“What if someone dies?” he asks, staring in fascination at the pouch.

She waves away the concern. “People die every day. They get hit by cars. They get sick. We have to destroy that half-breed, the whole Corey Council, and then we’ll have the real power in this town.”

“And the money that goes with it,” Milo says on a grin.

“Good boy,” she says, curling his fingers around the poison in the fetish bag. “Now hurry up. You’re going to be late.”

The vision goes black and then…

Melissa claps her hands. “Okay, all. Time for a break, and judging by the smell, Ms. Corey has cookies for us.” She waves the crew out the back door.

“I’m just going to grab a cup of tea,” Milo says.

Melissa nods absently, following the crew out for honey treats.

Once he’s alone in the gallery, Milo pulls the pouch from his pocket, steps behind the display case, and slides open a door, his eyes on the deck. He casts a look-away spell and though he’s not a powerful wicche, it’s a simple spell. It helps that the bear shifters are completely focused on cookies as well as the arrival of Carter.

Milo sprinkles the poison on a muffin, a shortbread cookie, and the peanut butter cookie. He slides the door closed and then, with the few grains of poison he has left, he drops them in a tea leaf jar on the back counter.

When my eyes blinked open, Declan pulled me to my feet and was then washing my hands in the sink.

“Bracken? Could you check these jars too? He dropped poison into one of them as well.”

“Who?” my mother demanded.

Declan was on the third wash of my hands. “Come here,” I whispered to him.

He leaned down and I gave him a big kiss. “Thank you.”

He took the tea towel from the counter and dried my hands. As Declan had already touched me, I didn’t need to worry about seeing visions of whoever had last touched the towel.

“Yes,” Bracken said. “This jar has poison in it.”

“Arwyn?” Mom was getting annoyed.

I turned around and said, “Milo and Catherine Swan. Cal promised them untold power and wealth if they helped her bring down the Council.”