Page 49 of Wicching Hour (The Sea Wicche Chronicles #3)

CHAPTER ONE

In the Past, She’s Been a Nasty

I thought longingly of the cool air skating across the waves outside. Soon. I wiped a drop of sweat off my chin, glad my mass of curls was piled high on my head. I couldn’t take more heat on my neck and back. Using my torch and tongs, I pulled and shaped tentacles on my latest glass octopus. I’d been commissioned for a very large order and had been working every day, trying to get it done early.

With our latest—and hopefully last—sorcerer in the family taken care of and the demonic grimoire destroyed, I had time to just work. Unfortunately, I also had time to think, as my mind often wandered when I was creating something I’d done countless times before.

I was a murderer.

Was it necessary? Yes. My cousin Calliope and her demon had harmed and killed many. They had to be stopped, and I was the one there to do it. It had to be done. I knew that. I couldn’t make peace with it, though.

I didn’t worry the Goddess was angry with me or that the Corey curse would be triggered because I’d killed one of my own. It wasn’t a fear of being punished. It was a feeling of being irretrievably marked. I’d carry it forever. I’d taken a life.

I kept telling myself it had to be done. Cal would never have stopped. She’d killed her own mother and grandmother, but now I was a murderer too. That moment—when I’d leapt over the hellhound and thrown the athame at her—haunted my nightmares.

When my boyfriend—my mate? My significant other—Declan, the werewolf Alpha of the Big Sur Pack, slept with me, the nightmares were silenced. Unfortunately, the pack was still dealing with the aftereffects of a sorcerer prodding them into rages. The morning and night runs continued a few times a week. He thought in another month or so, they would be settled enough to go back to once a week runs. Until that happened, I was dealing with nightmares I had a hard time feeling I didn’t deserve.

A shadow slid across my peripheral vision. Turning, I found my great-uncle standing on the deck outside. “Don’t open the door!” I shouted.

A cool wind now could crack the glass. He waited, studying the accordioned glass doors while I finished curling my last tentacle. During the remodel, I’d had my contractor put in special doors that could be opened all the way for maximum air circulation.

I put the octopus in the annealer to cool down and then took off my work gloves and went to open the doors to cool myself off. “Sorry about that. I couldn’t let cool air in.”

“Not to worry. I know not to open the door. I’ve been thinking, though,” Bracken said. “I’d like doors like these on my apartment.”

“I love that idea.” I tipped my head up to the wind. “Declan said his crew could come over and build your place as soon as they’re done at his—which shouldn’t be too long.”

“Sounds perfect,” he replied. “That gives me time to decide if I want them to duplicate my RV completely or if I should make some changes.” He glanced at my no doubt very red and sweaty face. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’m okay. You’d consider changes?” Bracken had trouble with new things. The fact that he was considering altering the home he was used to was amazing. He’d once told me he feared that his world was becoming smaller and smaller, that he’d end up trapped in a tiny room somewhere. This would be a huge step in a healthier direction for him.

“I think I’d like a larger living room. When you and your mother visited, you had to share that small bench.” He paused, considering. “Possibly big enough for a couch, so I can have visitors from time to time.”

He gave me a surreptitious look. “Perhaps—if you’re comfortable—I could babysit. Only if you think your child would be safe with me, of course. And I understand completely if you’re not comfortable.” He shrugged a shoulder, feigning an equanimity he wasn’t feeling.

I caught his eye and smiled. “I have complete faith in you. It’s still really early yet.”

He stood a little taller. “Then I think I’ll need a bigger living room. Maybe even a playroom for when she visits me.”

My throat was suddenly tight, but I nodded. “Great idea.”

He stared at the waves for a moment. “Maybe you could paint the walls, so she knows it’s her room.”

I cleared that tight throat and said, “I absolutely could do that. When I’m further along and it feels safer, I’m going to paint an underwater scene in the nursery at Declan’s. In your room, I can do a forest scene, since her daddy’s a werewolf.”

“That sounds lovely and restful,” he said with a wistful smile. “Good for nap time.”

I moved to the nearby bench and sat, with Bracken following. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Do you know if werewolf babies have a shorter gestation period? I asked Mom and she said she was pregnant for the normal forty weeks with me. Declan told me natural wolves were pregnant for about two and a half months. When you were researching werewolves, did you ask about the length of pregnancy?”

He thought a moment. “I didn’t ask—though you’re right. I should have. I do recall Alexander, Declan’s father, making a comment about his mate’s pregnancy.” He tapped his lip, lost in memory. “I don’t recall what he said, but it made me think that Quinn wolves—the origin line—were closer to natural wolves in this.” He patted my leg. “Let me check my journals and do a little digging. I don’t know that I’ll find anything, but at least there are two healers in the family who can track your pregnancy and perhaps give you a better estimate.”

“Thank you. I’m trying to get this order of glass octopuses done as soon as possible because I don’t know how all of this is going to affect me.”

He stretched out his legs. “Understandable.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like your apartment at Declan’s?” I wanted to move into the gorgeous home Declan had built for us, but I didn’t want to leave Bracken behind, not after he’d been alone for so long. He finally had family again.

He shook his head. “That’s your new home for your new family. I love it here. The beauty and constancy of the ocean calms my mind, and your Cecil and Wilbur bring me joy. Besides, it isn’t as if you’re far away or that you won’t be here most days. When the gallery is open, the little one can stay close by with me—unless your mother pulls rank and takes her,” he added on a smile.

With a sudden jolt of panic, I grabbed his arm. “Don’t let anyone take her, not without my seeing them.” I tried to shake it off but found I couldn’t. “Demons can shapeshift. So can the fae.” My heart was racing. “Too many have come after me all my life, and that was before the queen said she had plans for me.” I squeezed harder. “What if that plan involves my child?”

He patted my hand. “You forget,” he said, his voice low. “I have a great deal of power myself, and I would never let anyone steal or hurt your child.”

My eyes flooded with tears and I shook my head, looking up and blinking. “Sorry. My emotions are all over the place. Stupid hormones.”

Declan raced around the corner of the gallery, making Bracken and me jump. “What? What happened? Are you okay?”

“You could hear my heart beating from your place?” How had I not known that?

He shook his head. “I wish. I was walking over to have lunch with you when I heard it.” He gestured behind him. “I was at the road.” He crouched at my knee. “You’ve been crying too.” He looked between Bracken and me. “What’s going on?”

Bracken stood and patted my shoulder. “I’ll let you two talk. I need to go through my journals and see if it I can find that answer for you.” He strolled away and Declan took his spot, wrapping his big hand around mine.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” I leaned my head on him, suddenly tired. “We were talking about his new apartment.” I looked up at him and smiled. “He wants a bigger living room so people can visit, and a playroom for this one.” I patted my stomach.

Declan’s eyebrows rose. “He does?”

The stupid tears rushed back when I nodded. “He was saying he’d keep her close when the gallery is open, unless Mom comes and pulls rank, taking her.”

Declan grinned, stretching out his legs.

“But then I panicked,” I told him. “We’ve seen how demons and the fae can alter their appearance to look like anyone. What if one of the king’s assassins pretends to be Mom and takes our child from Bracken?”

He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me in tight. “We’ll have to ask your Dad about that. I’m sure he can come up with a ward that protects his grandchild. And while you and the little one are here, next to the ocean, you have his guards keeping watch too.” He kissed the top of my head. “If you and I can’t keep her protected, I don’t know who could.”

Nodding slowly, trying to make myself believe it, I said, “That’s true. And Bracken is more powerful than a normal wicche. He promised he’d never let anything happen to her.”

“She’s going to be surrounded by protectors. We can ask Tyler and Jake to continue working security on days like today, when you’re working here alone.”

I waved away the suggestion. “They have jobs. They can’t drop everything just because I’m nervous.”

“Sure they can.” He stood, pulled me up with him, and walked into the hot shop. “They’d thought the job would be a lot longer than one day when they agreed to guard you.” He looked at the completed octopuses. “Did you get more done this morning?”

“Three. They’re in the annealer.”

“No wonder you’re tired.” He led us into my studio. “You need a break. And last time I heard, you had a few months to finish that order. You don’t have to push so hard.”

I plopped down at my worktable. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen and when. That’s what Bracken is checking. Is this pregnancy nine months? Two? Somewhere in between?”

I’d left all the doors open. The gates at the ends of the deck hadn’t gone up yet; Declan was carving something special. Until then, I’d added a fae ward about halfway from the front of the gallery to the back that made people want to turn around. My friends and family could get through, but it was designed to push away the random person who was too curious for their own good.

If I was on my own, I’d probably lock up on the off chance someone got past my wards. As Declan was with me and had excellent hearing, I figured I’d enjoy the cool breezes. I seemed to be running warmer these days.

Declan went through the refrigerator and pulled out our Thai leftovers from last night’s dinner. While he heated the food, I got up and went to the bathroom to clean up. Looking in the mirror, I saw the telltale tightness around my eyes that said I was getting less sleep than usual.

After doing a quick glamour spell to hide the tightness, I went back out. Declan had food on the worktable and was dishing it onto two plates for us. I got a couple of napkins and some drinks before sitting down, suddenly ravenous. Declan easily ate three to four times as much food as me, but you wouldn’t notice unless you were paying close attention. He had excellent table manners and never shoveled it in.

I took a bite and realized he was looking at me, not eating. Eyebrows raised, I chewed and waited.

“You don’t have to hide the exhaustion from me. I’m sorry I’ve been away so much and you’re left here with the nightmares.”

Shaking my head, I swallowed. “You have a responsibility to all those pack members to keep them and their families safe.”

“I have a responsibility to you and the little one too, and you need sleep.”

I nodded and he finally started eating. Being a werewolf meant burning through a ton of calories every day. He needed to eat. “Maybe I’ll take up afternoon napping,” I told him, glancing over my shoulder at the couch. I’d been joking, but that actually sounded really good.

Declan’s head came up and he looked toward the hot shop. “Someone’s coming.” He paused, listening. “I think that’s Hernández’s walk.”

Sure enough, a minute later, Detective Hernández was standing in the back door of the studio. “Sorry to interrupt your lunch. This shouldn’t take long.”

I waved her in. “Would you like some leftover Thai?”

“Smells great,” she said, “but I’m good. I won’t mess up your meal. Please, keep eating.” She pulled out the small notebook that was always in her pocket. “When I’m closing up a case, I go through my notebook, pull out all the pages related to that case, and file them. When I was doing that for this last one—Officer Harding—I found the note about that address you wanted me to check.”

She looked up with a guilty expression and shook her head. “I’m sorry. We were in the thick of it and I completely forgot to do it earlier.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “We know you’re busy.”

Declan nodded, steadily making his way through the pile of food on his plate.

“I looked it up this morning and now I’m worried I should have done it a week ago when you gave it to me.”

When I’d asked Orla, our new owl-shifting friend, to check the coastline for possible sorcerer lairs, she’d found seven. One was Cal’s house. One was a vampire’s. Four were invisible, and one was a normal house in an ordinary neighborhood that had an address.

“The owner of the property is Catherine Swan.”

I sat up straight at that. The Swans were another old wicche family. They didn’t have Corey-level power, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. Catherine was the head of the Swan coven. Bracken said she’d been trying to spy on and steal from us since he was little, wanting to be as powerful as Gran had been.

And just that quick thought of Gran caused my breath to catch and my chest to tighten. I kept forgetting. Gran couldn’t be gone. Of course she was still here, guiding the family, keeping us all in her sights. It was hard to imagine her not at the helm.

I’d recently learned that Catherine Swan had been working with Calliope, trying to curry favor and gain strength. She’d even had her grandson Milo poison my pastries in the gallery, hoping someone dying here would wreck me and help Cal get the upper hand. If the poison had killed me, all the better.

“Swan?” I looked at Declan. “This isn’t good. I need to tell Mom. Is she a black magic practitioner now?”

“That’s the other part,” Hernández continued. “Catherine owns the house, but Milo and his sister Milena are the ones who live there.”

I pushed away the plate and rested my head on the table. “I hate dark wicches.”

WICKED WICCHE: THE SEA WICCHE CHRONICLES will be out 3/31/2026