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Authors: Kimberly Frost

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fiction

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BOOK: Barely Bewitched
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Chapter 19

“For the love of Saint Patrick,” Bryn spat, looking upstream. “C’mon, let’s get out of the water quickly.” We swam, and the current tried to drag us under. I couldn’t quite reach the dock, but Bryn caught my arm and hauled me to it. I grabbed one of the metal struts and held tight. The current was so strong.

“We lost the book!”

“Never mind about that now,” he said, climbing onto the dock. He pulled me out of the water.

At the next loud whistling sound, I winced and ducked. “What is it?”

“Cannonballs. George Miller has a collection of antique cannons. Apparently he’s decided to fire them.”

“What? Why?”

Bryn tugged me along with him toward the lawn. “Samhain is the beginning of the dark season. It’s the time when the walls between worlds are the thinnest. The Unseelie open their doors on All Hallows’ Eve. Normally, I spell-cast to reinforce the doors in Duvall. But this year, a few days before the feast, you and I scattered a whole chest of faery dust, coating the town and the tor with it.”

“Oh boy.”

“Right. What’s more, people are under its influence. Last night, besides all the vandalism and drunk-and-disorderly conduct, there were apparently two robberies and three assaults. It’ll get worse every night. I expect Halloween to be very interesting.”

“We have to stop it.”

“I wish I’d thought of that,” he said dryly.

“Bryn!”

“Well, how do you suggest we do that? Because my power doesn’t touch the fae.”

I swallowed hard, not thrilled with what I was about to suggest. “Maybe you’ll have to curse me so I can be mostly faery again. Then they’ll talk to me and tell me how to stop it.”

He shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Faeries can’t be trusted.”

“I know, but we have to try.”

“Not that way. Not by cursing you to become one of them. You’ll know too much now, and, in that form, you’ll never agree to let me unspell you. I won’t risk it.”

I cocked my head. “Risk what?”

“Losing you to them.”

It was sweet of him to say, but I didn’t understand why he was so worried. “But if you cast the spell to curse me, can’t you just cast a counterspell?”

“If I get your permission as part of the initial spell, then I’ll need your permission as part of the counterspell.”

“Then don’t ask my permission.”

“You don’t—”

A cannonball crashed onto the deck of his boat. “Down!” Bryn shouted, knocking me to the grass and covering my head with his arms. The explosion rocked the night and debris rained down on us.

A few moments later, we sat up as his pretty little boat tipped sideways and sank.

“I’m not really keen on having to wash two inches of mud off my floors again, but I don’t see that we’ve got too much choice. It’s me or the town.”

“Look, the spell would have to be complicated and powerful, and since there’s nothing in the books to guide me, I’d have to write it new, meaning it would be untested until I cast it. That kind of spell could easily go wrong, even if you cooperated. If I forced it on you, you’d fight it, making the likelihood of disaster exponentially higher.”

“I wouldn’t fight.”

“Tamara, listen to me. You
would
fight.”

His tone made my muscles tighten with fear. “Why? Does it hurt?” I remembered the pain of the witch power being restored. It had been excruciating, but I could take it again. Of course, he’d asked my permission that time, so I guess that meant it could be even worse, which scared me.

“It’s more than painful. Let’s leave it at that.”

I blinked.

“Besides,” he added, “there’s no guarantee that you’ll even want to undo all this and restore the town to normal when your fae side resurfaces. You used that dust recklessly and without remorse, remember?”

He had a small point there.

“I’ll come up with a strategy to deal with this. I just need time to do more research,” he said.

“Time, huh? Tell that to your boat.” We got up and walked to the house. “Maybe Jordan could help. It was his spell—”

“Absolutely not. If Perth or Maldaron believed for a moment that you were part faery, with access to fae power, and still capable of spell-casting in the witch world, the Conclave would kill you.”

I stopped walking. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a law or something?”

He nodded. “The Conclave would never risk that you’d learn to use powers beyond their control.”

“But you’d risk it? By keeping my secret?”

He nodded.

“Because you like me? Or because you know that you’ve been able to borrow my power in the past and you’re willing to take a chance, so you can use it again?”

“While I don’t deny that I enjoy the way our magicks mix, I don’t need your power, Tamara. I can draw far more than I need in other ways.”

“So you’re protecting me from the Conclave because it’s the right thing to do?”

“You could put it that way.”

“I
did
put it that way. Is that how you would put it?”

He smiled, but didn’t answer.

Lawyers! Can’t live with ’em. Can’t shoot ’em in the foot to make ’em talk!

I clucked my tongue at him and started walking again. “Couldn’t you just say you’re one of the good guys? Just to, you know, ease my mind. Because I’ve got a lot to worry about at the moment without adding your ulterior motives to the list.”

I marched ahead of him to my car that was still parked on the back drive.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I know someone who might be able to get a faery to talk to her.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No. The fae don’t like adults, and they don’t like witchfolk. You’re both, so you stay here. Keep reading your books. There might be something in them that will help us.”

Another cannonball exploded over the water.

“And maybe get Robert E. Lee over there to do something besides cannon practice,” I added.

Chapter 20

The Du-Fall parade had come early to my neighborhood. My “dust drunk” neighbors had stolen a float of Snoopy on his doghouse wearing a cowboy hat and lassoing a papier-mâché steer. Rodeo Snoopy? That was a new one on me, but I guess like Barbie he’s tried plenty of careers over the years.

I needed to talk to Abby, and I spotted her sitting like a princess at the end of the truck, wearing a pink ruffled dress and a large pink rose on her head.

“Y’all better sit down before you fall off that thing!” I called to the six adults standing at the edges as the driver zoomed down the street at speeds that were in keeping with Snoopy’s Red Baron days—and far exceeding usual parade standards. If they fell off the flatbed trailer, they were likely to crack their skulls. My next-door neighbor Jolene was still wearing her bathrobe from the morning, but she’d wrapped the tie like a sash and waved to me like a demented prom queen.

As I drew closer, she hiked the robe up to her chubby knees and eyed the bull like it was her next steak dinner. Then she lifted her leg to climb on.

“I don’t think that’s gonna work,” I said.

Sure enough, as she tried to mount him, the bull pitched sideways. She hung there, arms around its collapsing neck, dangling like a plus-sized party favor.

As the driver slowed and maneuvered to turn around, I raced to the float and scooped Abby up. I was real glad she was the only child to rescue from it.

“Miss Jolene, you need help getting down from there?” I said, dropping Abby on the grass.

“Yee haw!” Jolene shouted.

I decided to take that as a yes.

I rushed toward her. “Come on down, Miss Jolene,” I said, grabbing her arm. “Before you fall.”

She yanked the rope, ripping Snoopy from his house and launching him on top of her and the bull, which teetered for a second and then crashed off the trailer onto the street, knocking me down along with them.

“Miss Jolene?” I gasped, crawling over to her. “Are you okay?”

“Move,” she said, shoving me aside and rolling free. She snapped the rope authoritatively from Snoopy’s paws and wrapped the legs of the now pancake-shaped bull. She tied them off expertly and slapped the ground.

“Time!” she said triumphantly, standing over her flattened but completely hog-tied bull.

“Well, that’ll teach him,” I mumbled.

Abby dissolved into giggles, and the other adults on the flatbed cheered and congratulated Jolene.

The driver of the truck gunned the engine and started down the block again with a Snoopy-less doghouse and five happy, but pretty much crazy, people.

“How are you doing?” I asked Abby.

“This is fun.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, thinking this was about as much fun as cleaning a kitchen after someone forgot to put the top on a blender before hitting the start button. “You want to help me out with something?”

“Like what?”

“I’ve got to see if I can find a pixie in the forest. I saw the picture you drew. I thought you might know where to look.”

She smiled. “I do.”

“Oh, good.”

“Let me get my stuff. You have to have some bait to lure them out.”

“What kind of bait?” I asked as she darted away.

“Mostly I use Gummi bears, Jelly Bellies, or Sweethearts. Let me get my bag,” she called over her shoulder before she skip-raced to her house while I waited.

When she came out, she was carrying an impressive-looking backpack, like we were about to be Girl Scouts on wilderness training. As I led her to my car I realized the adults were stripping to Merle Haggard. I slapped a hand over her eyes and rushed her into the passenger seat.

“Keep your eyes closed,” I said, getting in. I zoomed past the float, just as one of the guys launched a beer mug through Jolene’s front window. Jolene, understandably annoyed, tackled him. That might have settled things if a couple other people hadn’t decided to dive into the tussle. I grimaced, dragging my eyes away from the rearview mirror. I was tempted to try to break things up. But I knew in my heart that it wouldn’t do any good.

I stared uneasily as I saw Charlie Buckland coming out of a neighbor’s house carrying a flat-screen television with the cords dangling. I stomped on my brake and rolled the window down.

“Charlie, you put that back!”

He grinned at me and ran across the lawn to his own house.

Abby, in the passenger seat, giggled. “He left the door open. We should see what kind of sparkly things they have. I like earrings that dangle.”

“We can’t do that. It would be stealing.”

“Wasn’t taking other people’s plants stealing, Miss Tammy?” she asked with an innocent, curious little face.

I grimaced and took a deep breath. “Yeah, that was, and it was wrong. I wasn’t thinking straight, and now I’ll have to make up for what I did.” I glanced in my rearview mirror. “Lately, plenty of people aren’t themselves.”

“Nope, they’re a lot more fun.”

I sighed. At least she hadn’t spotted the fight, which her own momma had jumped into.

“Let’s go to Magnolia Park,” I said.

“No, the best place to find pixies is in the woods by Macon Hill.”

“The woods by Macon Hill? There aren’t even any trails there.”

“No people trails. That’s why the faeries like it. It’s one of their favorite places.”

“But what were you doing there? You could’ve gotten lost.”

She smiled. “Someone would’ve found me. Duvall’s not so big.”

I drove to the west side of the tor and parked on a small, unmarked road that she pointed me to. We got out near a patch of evergreens, and I saw a truck a couple hundred feet away. The sun was setting, and I didn’t feel that good about tramping around in the dark. One of us could trip and break a leg. As I got closer to the truck, I froze. It was the TrailBlazer.

It seemed to be empty, and I really wanted to get the license plate number so Zach could look up the owner.

“Stay here,” I whispered to Abby.

My heart banged in my chest as I snuck closer. When I started to pass the passenger side, I peered in the window. I could just make out the mailing label on a box in the seat. Earl Stanton. The bastard.

I turned, walking quickly back to my car. “C’mon,” I said. “Now’s not a good time.”

“This way,” Abby said, darting between two trees.

“No!” I shouted in a whisper as she disappeared behind them.

What in the world?

My stomach knotted with dread. I didn’t want to go into the woods and run into Earl, but I certainly couldn’t leave her.

“Abby! Come back here right now!”

She didn’t come out. I balled my fists furiously. Sometimes I regret that I never got pregnant when Zach and I were married, but some days, like now, I’m not sorry I don’t have kids.

I ducked into the woods and spotted her.

“Abigail Farmer, get back here.”

She ignored me and I had to hurry to follow as she ran along the edge of forest.
C’mon! Get back here!

I heard men’s voices, and my breath caught. I raced to catch her and did, grabbing her arm and pulling her back.

They must’ve heard us crunching on the leaves and needles because one of the men turned, and I saw his swollen, bruised face. I realized it was Earl, his lip crusted with dried blood and twice its normal size. Zach had really done a number on him.

“Shoot!” I whispered. “We have to go back,” I said as he stomped toward us. “Hide!” I shoved her away from me and crouched behind a tree trunk. In the dark, he wouldn’t be able to see me. All I needed was to stay still. I waited, holding my breath as he got closer.

Suddenly there was a burst of light and flame above me. A branch blazed overhead.
Incendio,
I thought, filled with dread. I hadn’t been able to see him because Earl’s body had blocked my view, but now I knew. When I dropped my gaze from the tree limb, it was just in time to see Earl’s meaty hand grab for me.

Oh, God!

I stumbled backward, but he bore down on me. I had to get away.

“You!” he spat, yanking me up by the arm. He marched farther into the woods, dragging me.

“Let me go,” I yelled. “You let me go right now!”

“Little tease, I’ll teach you.”

I hauled off and slapped his bruised face with all my might. He growled and flung me to the ground.

“You want it? Right now?” he sneered, dropping to his knees and pinning me.

My heart hammered and besides being afraid for myself, I couldn’t stand that Abby might see whatever he did to me.

“Earl Stanton, you stop right now!” Where the heck was Incendio? Would he just stand by and let it happen? “You don’t want to do this. You’re better than this,” I said, hoping maybe he’d find some part of himself that had once been my friend.

“Oh, I’m doin’ this. Zach ain’t here now, is he? Mr. All-American thinks he’s the only one who’s got a right to you. Well, I’m gonna do this, and he’s gonna know it. And the next time he shows his face at my house, I’ll blow it off with a shotgun. He’ll go to his grave knowing what I did to you out here in the dirt.”

I was so shocked, I couldn’t even speak. It was like all the fear in the world had shoved its way into my body, and it made my skin feel too tight. Bile threatened to roar up my throat, but I swallowed it back down. My hands clawed the ground, trying to drag me away, but he had me.

As he reached for his zipper, a part of me knew that fighting would mean more violence and more pain for me. Maybe he’d lose control and beat me to death.

If you can’t get away, be quiet and still so it’ll be over faster.

But, smart or not, it wasn’t in me to just lie there and take it. The sounds of the woods fell away, and all I heard was my own heartbeat.

I grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it into his eyes. I rolled my face away as his fist crashed down with a thump. He shook me by the shoulders until my teeth rattled and my eyes blurred with tears. He was blinking himself, trying to get the grit out, and then I saw Abby’s little face behind him. She bent, and I felt her press a rock into my palm.

When he leaned forward, I cracked him in the temple with it. His eyes rolled back, and he fell onto me. I shoved him off, kicking wildly at his motionless body.

I staggered to my feet, shaking, relieved and furious at the same time. The rock was there on the ground, and my fingers itched to pick it up, to use it on his skull. I heard my ragged breathing, felt the tears drip from my jaw, but it was like I wasn’t completely in my body . . . like I could use that stone and it wouldn’t be my hand holding it.

I remembered what I had liked about being fae. The utter lack of conscience.

In the distance, I heard a motorcycle engine. The familiar sound brought me back to myself. I noticed the soft noises of the woods around me and felt the cool air. Slowly, I stepped back from the rock.

I shivered as I surveyed Earl’s body. Blood ran from his temple to the hard ground. I heard him breathing and knew that he might never wake up again.
Good.
Or he might wake up any second.
Not good.

Sniffling, I took Abby’s hand and led her silently away. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said, rubbing the tears from my face.

“The faeries are this way,” she said, skipping ahead.

I took a gulp of air and blinked my burning eyes. Abby wasn’t upset, which seemed strange. I realized she must not have understood what Earl had been about to do. I was glad she didn’t.

By the time we got to the edge of the stream a minute later, I was steadier on my feet but still wanted to get out of the woods and back to my car, which had locks and was big enough to run Earl over seventeen times if he came anywhere near it.

Which way is the car?

I wasn’t sure. I’d followed Abby because she seemed to know the way, but nothing looked familiar.

“Where are we?”

She knelt down and opened her bag. She pulled out a pack of Gummi bears. “Eat some. You’ll feel better.”

I took a few and popped them in my mouth. She dropped some Gummies into the water and onto the ground and then put a few in her mouth.

“What do you want to talk to the pixies about?”

“I spilled some of their dust,” I said.

“I know. I’ve seen it swirling in the air.”

“You have? I thought once it blew away, people would get back to normal, but they haven’t. I need to know how to get rid of the effects.”

“It would wear off if the dust wasn’t still blowing around town.”

“It ought to have settled by now.”

“Oh, no. Not here. Duvall’s got the four winds. The dust goes in figure-eights. It’ll never settle.”

“How do you know? Someone told you that?”

“I see how it rides the winds.” She bent over her bag again. I didn’t feel like eating more candy and hoped whatever she pulled out next would lure the pixies because the Gummies didn’t seem to be working. “Someone will have to re-collect the dust. Later, after the fall,” she said.

“The fall?”

“The fall of Duvall.” She giggled. “It rhymes,” she said as she stood and turned around. She held a crossbow, and it was pointed right at me.

“What are you doing?” I stammered, my heart clenching.

BOOK: Barely Bewitched
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