Fire Spell (7 page)

I let him lead me to the head of the table where my grandmother stood. Surveying the room full of my family, I recognized how important this moment was. Everything in my life was about to change.

The Highway, Present Day

M
Y CAR
cruised at seventy-five, and it still seemed too slow. I stopped to pick up a cup of coffee and fill up on gas before leaving Sullen’s Grove. It was barely light when I headed south for the seaside town. Charleston was only an hour away now. My grandmother’s journals rested in the passenger seat. I brought them, along with the elixir. There was no way I could leave them behind. I had no idea where I was going to stay, where I was going to start looking for answers, or what any of this meant. My witchy tingle buzzed and it hadn’t stopped since I read the first of the journal entries.

I tore out of the house, leaving Coop snuggled in his bed. I had a timer set on his food dispenser, and with the new freedom his doggie door gave him, I could leave him a little more easily. As soon as it was an acceptable hour to call, I’d buzz Holly and have her check on him.

I turned the radio up, trying to drown out the echoes of Finn’s screams from last night’s dream. I hadn’t been able to shake the fear that had settled into my bones from that vision. All this time he had been gone, I made myself believe he was safe, spending his time globe-trotting, sipping cocktails, flirting with exotic women, and occasionally asking a question or two about his quest. All of that unraveled the moment he screamed my name.

He had to be safe. He was on his quest. The quest wasn’t supposed to be perilous. It was supposed to be about trying to fulfill whatever destiny he had accepted. I ran my fingers through my hair, shaking my head. What if he wasn’t ok? What if his quest had led him straight to danger?

There was no way to find him. It was all part of the quest. The second he left me in New Orleans, all communication between us ceased. I replayed that night in my head. I thought I had said everything there was to say. Saying goodbye seemed like the best decision, but now I couldn’t stop thinking of all the words I should have said.

I gripped the steering wheel with both hands, relieved the road sign reported only forty more miles to Charleston. The only chance I had of helping him was to find out what happened to Leo. I knew I was getting ready to break one of my
Time Spell
rules, but there weren’t any other options. I needed to understand what I was as a Laurel, and what they had to do with Guardians.

I sighed, wishing I could call Finn. I had never wanted to hear his voice so badly. He would probably flirt, joke, and try to charm me out of worrying. If only all of this was that easy.

Charleston was a beautiful city, even in the winter. I had visited before, but not enough to know my way around. My phone gave me three top recommendations, and I opted for a boutique hotel near the center of downtown. When I walked through the sliding glass doors, it immediately reminded me of Hotel François. I think it was the polished marble floors and the massive crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The concierge notified me of the hostess hour at five o’clock. I thanked him, knowing this trip would not include social time. I had sixty years of mystery to dig through. Gin and tonics weren’t on my itinerary.

I sat on the bed in the suite and spread the journals in front of me. I needed to find a location where my grandmother and Leo saw each other. Somewhere I could track them. Otherwise, I could be in Charleston for months, walking the streets looking for them. I retrieved the elixir from the box, spread a drop of the liquid on my palms, and called the journal words to spring forward.

Once I could read her bold handwriting, I flipped to the entry when she first wrote about meeting Leo.

December 31, 1949

I’ve never danced so much in my life. It was wonderful, dare I say magical. I feel like a regular girl, giggling and silly, but oh, I let him kiss me. Kiss me and we met at the Charleston New Year’s Eve Ball tonight! Oh, but he did have the most delicious lips. He’s handsome and beautiful, and I could dance like that every night. He said he would call on me tomorrow. Until then, I’m going to dream of him and fall asleep with his name on my lips.

I scribbled
Charleston New Year’s Eve Ball
on my notepad. It was a place to start, but I was hoping there was another clue later into their courtship. Things seemed to heat up between them quickly in the beginning. If she would give me something more concrete to go on, I’d much rather travel later in their relationship when the information would be more certain. I shuffled the pages until I reached the spring entries I skipped over last night.

April 7, 1949

Springtime in Charleston is delicious magic. Leo and I had a picnic in the park this afternoon surrounded by tulips. We walked along the harbor, watching ships sail out of port. The more time I spend with him, the more I know our destiny is together. I’ve told him about the crusade, and he wants to help us more than ever. He says he can’t bear the thought of me taking on the dark without him. That is love, isn’t it?

I made a note about a park picnic on the next line of my notebook. I couldn’t help but think the crusade my grandmother mentioned was a crucial key to her past, but I never knew about a crusade, never heard it mentioned in any of her stories. I wondered how much my father knew about her past. Part of me was tempted to call him, but something held me back. Though she was gone, it felt like the revelations were between her and me. Certainly, by the time I came along, the crusade was over. She must have finished it before coming home to Sullen’s Grove. I read the next entry.

April 9, 1949

I told the council about Leo. They are open to him attending the next meeting. We can use more help on our side. A Guardian like him is a wonderful addition. I think he’s the perfect addition to anything.

April 14, 1949

Leo and I are stunned. The council has informed us of our duties. I always knew he was my destiny, but now there is no denying it. I can face anything the darkness hands us with him by my side. Leo makes my magic strong and unparalleled. I would look death in the eye and defy it if I had to. He gives me this power.

I sat a little straighter on the bed, stretching my lower back. What in the hell was Gigi talking about? I couldn’t tell if she was so ridiculously in love that Leo made her reckless, or if he, because he loved her, made her a stronger, more invincible witch.

It was hard not to think of how closely my relationship with Finn resembled hers with Leo. I did things with him I had never done before or since. Like rooftop sex. Like sharing my
Time Spell
with him. I hung my head. Like killing the consul. The energy he gave me pushed all my boundaries. I exhaled, knowing I liked its effects more than I should. I picked up the journal again.

April 23, 1949

There is another dance tonight. It’s Hattie’s engagement party. All of Charleston will be there. Leo and I will attend then carry out our first orders from the council. I accepted the crusade, but some moments I only want to be with Leo, dancing and drinking like all of the human couples in town. I know that is not our life, but a girl still dreams.

I wrote down the date. That might be the perfect night to try and find my grandmother and Leo. If there was something important they were supposed to accomplish after the party, it could be my perfect chance to solve this puzzle. Gigi was vague in her journals, and I realized no matter how many pages I read, she wasn’t going to spell out the specifics for me. I’d have to piece this all together my own witchy way.

I pulled out my laptop, eager to search for socialites named Hattie, who had an engagement party in April 1949.

My phone buzzed and I looked at the screen. It was Jack.

“Hey, what’s up?”

He sighed. “Ivy, hey, are you already in Charleston?”

I turned my computer on. “Yes, made it in this morning. I’m actually doing some research right now.”

“Let Raven cover the trip cost for you. Where are you staying?”

“The Charleston Place, but Jack I can take care of it. I’m not sure if the story is going to pan out.” Honestly, I did not intend to turn my grandmother’s story into a novel.

“No, no, we can take care of it for you. I’ll let Logan know.” It seemed like he wanted to talk to me about something other than travel expenses. After last night, I wasn’t sure what was going on with him.

“Ok, so if that’s it—” I waited for him to explain his unusual behavior.

“Dammit, this is harder than I thought,” he mumbled.

I pulled the phone from my ear and looked at the screen.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I— Look, I need to talk to you about something.” He huffed into the phone. I recognized that frustrated, breathy sound.

“Ok, how about when I get back to town? I’m headed out for the afternoon. I just got a tip about my research and I don’t want to miss it.” I was distracted by the journals and discovering my Laurel roots, but I still wondered what was bothering Jack. He had been different the past few weeks.

Ever since he pitched the Nashville trip, he had asked me to lunch, coffee, drinks, and dinner. Then last night he stopped by unannounced with a bottle of wine. None of that was like the professional, business-only editor I had worked with for three years.

“Really, it can’t wait until then.”

I shook my head, not prepared for Jack to challenge my request. My computer screen finally lit up, and I typed in
Hattie Charleston April 23, 1949
in the search engine while Jack struggled to open up.

“Are we still talking about the western?”

“For Christ’s sake, Ivy. I’m trying to talk to you,” he roared.

“Then just spit it out. I told you I’m busy,” I fumed, but instantly regretted my response.

“Never mind. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Jack, wait—” Before I could apologize, he hung up. “Shit,” I mumbled. I considered calling him back, but decided I needed to keep moving forward. I couldn’t split my focus any more than I already had.

I scanned the screen. Several Hatties popped up in my search. I clicked on Hattie Trad Aiken. Bingo! A socialite who ran the Ladies’ League and married a state senator the summer of 1949. She sounded exactly like the Hattie in my grandmother’s journals.