Halfway Hexed (34 page)

“You could try being nicer to them.”

“Why should I? The wretched little snitches.” She paused, calming. “Do you like this gown? It’s from the French designer I told you about. Gabrielle Chanel.”

Lenore looked up. “Very pretty, but I don’t like the square neck. You know I don’t go in for hard edges.” Lenore looked past her, toward me. She tilted her head.

“What?” Edie said, whirling in my direction. “Do you see something? There was a strange ghost in the hallway. Rotten cow jumped right into me. Nearly broke my neck falling down the stairs.”

Lenore smiled at me. “Poor dear,” Lenore said, and I didn’t know if she meant me or Edie. “It was an accident. She’s not malicious.”

“Well, who is she and what’s she doing here?” Edie demanded suspiciously.

“I don’t know, but I think she’s just passing through. She’s a tender heart. Nothing to worry about.”

“Well, you can tell her to bloody well stay out of my body, or I’ll stuff her into an ill-wish doll and stick her with pins like the Voudoun priestesses do.”

“You know better than to dabble in black magic, Edes. You really must be careful.”

Edie pursed her crimson lips defiantly.

Lenore sighed. “I’d think drinking bathtub gin would be enough lawbreaking for you.” Lenore turned back to her journal.

“What are you writing in that infernal book?” Edie said, walking up behind her and peeking over Lenore’s shoulder.

Their two pretty faces were framed together in the mirror. Identical bones and flawless skin, but one painted and clever and the other soulful and knowing.

“I have a new name for the list.”

“You and your list.”

“This one’s the most dangerous yet,” Lenore whispered. “He’ll divide the family.”

“The family could use some division. If I could get my inheritance early, I’d move in with the artists and young bohemians in Greenwich Village.”

“And give up French silk evening gowns?” Lenore said with a soft laugh. “I doubt that.”

Edie opened a drawer to retrieve an engraved cigarette case. She put a cigarette in a long black holder and lit it.

“Get Mama to talk Papa into giving me my money, and see where I go,” Edie said without an ounce of self-doubt. She inhaled, then blew out a puff of smoke. “So what’s the dastardly name then?”

“Lyons. I don’t know the first name. Perhaps Brian . . .” Lenore trailed off, then added, “Something like it anyway.”

No!

A crushing weight suffocated me.

“And what will he do to divide the family?” Edie asked.

Lenore’s finger traced the edge of the journal, then along the swirls of dried ink where she’d written the name. “He oughtn’t to be able to. They’ll be forewarned, you know. They’ll have my list. They’ll know the name, but she won’t get away quickly enough. She’s drawn to that power, you see. He’ll be so beautiful, that one. Spells so brilliant and hard to resist. When understanding dawns, it’ll be too late.” Lenore shook her head slowly. “The family’s already splintered. Dangerous decisions. Terrible ones. But there’s hope until . . . He’ll take their child. Even when she begs him to give it back, he won’t. He thinks he’s better than us, and he’ll want that darling girl more than anything. He lost something when he was young, you see. Something precious. So he’ll never give up anything that he thinks belongs to him. No matter that the child is half McKenna blood; no matter how much it will hurt them to be separated. He knows how to be ruthless, and he will be.” A round tear spilled over her lashes and rolled down her cheek. “The destiny they share will break the hearts of all those who live to see it.”

Edie shuddered and exhaled a curl of smoke. “Well, it’s their own fault if they know about the list and ignore it. Silly little fools.”

“Yes . . . fortune finishes the fool.”

A great dread pressed in on me, and I fumbled toward them, trying to speak, trying to promise that it wasn’t too late yet.

But when I got close to Edie, she raised her hand sharply. “No you don’t, tender heart. Be gone.” She snapped her wrist, flicking me away.

Air rushed through me with a deafening roar. I was lost and spinning, my ears splitting. I tried to yank my hands free to cover my ears, but they were pinned behind me. I struggled and thrashed, needles pricking my skin, a sharp pain in my leg and side.

“Tamara!”

I gasped and opened my eyes on the blurred night. My body twisted to escape. “Let go, Bryn! I’m back now. Let me go!”

He did and I stumbled forward, my knees landing on the cold, wet ground. He bent near me, putting a warm hand on my neck. “Are you all right?”

I looked up into his dark blue eyes and wondered if I might already be pregnant. I’d been careless with Bryn because, in all the hundreds of times with Zach, we’d never made a baby. A specialist said there was nothing wrong with either of us, but it didn’t happen. Maybe that was because I was part fae. Like Bryn. Maybe with him, making a baby would be easier. And maybe he’d love his little girl so much that, when we broke up, he’d decide I wasn’t a good enough mom and he’d take her away. The fear was like a dagger poking at my heart over and over until all my blood and all my hope seemed to drain away.

“What, sweetheart?” he asked. “What?”

He’d lost his own mom. He didn’t have much family. I could see why he wouldn’t want to just let me have her if we broke up. What if I ended up with Zach? Would Bryn take the baby out of spite? Would he think his child would be better off learning magic from him? Living somewhere outside Duvall? And if he did, what chance did I have of stopping him? Bryn was a lawyer who specialized in family law, and he’d never lost a case. People joked that he’d made a deal with the devil to get juries to always see things his way. Maybe not. Maybe he just bespelled them. Or maybe he just persuaded them with a handsome face and beautiful, irresistible eyes.

I put my hand up to cover his eyes, so I could look away as the tears started to well up in mine. He jerked his face back so he could see me.

“What?” he demanded as I got to my feet. I heard the sharp note of unease in his voice. He could see the truth in my eyes.

“No,” he said.

“We’ll work together to save the town,” I whispered.

“And then?” he demanded.

Then I’ll get away from you, and, if I’m pregnant, I’ll make sure you never find out.
“Then we’ll see.”

He grabbed my arm and kept me from walking away. “Tell me! Tell me what you heard!” His teeth clenched, and dark power radiated from his body, all but swallowing me up in ice. I shuddered.

“Let go of me. I’m cold.”

He pulled me toward him, but I jerked back. His vise grip on my arm tightened until it hurt. I was afraid, not so much of him, but that I’d crack, that I’d look at him and want to tell him everything. A part of me loved him, wanted him in spite of everything. That part fought to get to him; that part wanted to press against him and cry into his ear and believe whatever he’d say to convince me to trust him. It took every bit of my strength not to snake my arms around his neck and turn my back on my family.

Tears dripped from my eyes.

Edie’s words echoed in my head.
Their own fault. Silly little fools.

“Let go, Bryn.” I tried to make my voice sound hard.

“Won’t you tell me?” he asked, frustration laced with fury. He could be ruthless. It was there in his voice and in the things he’d done. The way he drove Edie away and blocked her from reaching me. When he thought he was right about something, he could be calculating and probably never regretted it. Who would he think our baby would be better off with? Him or me? Him. Of course, he would.

“Let’s talk about it. Tell me what you heard,” he said.

I stared at him, then turned my face away a fraction of an inch. With my heart breaking, I said, “No.”

Mercutio’s yowl made Bryn loosen his hold on my arm, and I pulled away. Mercutio rushed toward me, and I hurried in his direction. I didn’t hear or feel Bryn behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see that he’d turned his back to me, shrugging the bathrobe back on while he stared out at the water.

I walked without breaking my stride, anxious to put some distance between us.

Merc was almost to me when he hissed and sprang toward the tree I was passing. I slowed just as a hand shot out and grabbed me. For a moment, I was face-to-face with Scarface until he whirled me around, levering a forearm across my throat and pressing a gun to my head.

Chapter 33

Scarface kicked viciously at Merc, but only landed a glancing blow. He whipped the gun toward Mercutio and fired. Merc sprang forward, and the bullet missed him by a hair. Real bullets, not tranquilizer darts.

“Run, Merc!” I said. I’d tried to yell, but the arm across my throat made my voice a rasp.

Mercutio stood his ground, back raised, front legs slightly bent like he was ready to spring at us.

Scarface pressed the muzzle of the gun to my head. “Tell him to back off. I will shoot you.”

“Go on, Merc. You get behind a tree,” I said. Mercutio didn’t listen. I’d known he wouldn’t. Back down from a fight? Leave me on my own? Not a chance. It made me mad at him. It also made me want to hug him.

“Who are you and what are you doing?” Bryn’s voice was soft. I almost didn’t hear it over the blowing wind.

Scarface spun to face Bryn. “I’m here to collect some things.” He rubbed the gun against my temple. “She took a brooch. Where is it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered.

“She doesn’t have it. It’s locked up in my house,” Bryn said, making me scowl. I’d worked so darn hard to get that brooch. Also, lying to the bad guys seemed like the right thing to do on principle, and, I reasoned, the longer Scarface didn’t have what he wanted, the longer he wouldn’t be shooting me in the head.

I shivered.

“I’m unarmed. Let her go. You’re better off with the gun on me,” Bryn said.

“You go in and get the brooch. We’ll wait here. And take the cat with you,” Scarface said, drawing us back away from Merc and Bryn.

I stiffened as Merc yowled in warning when Bryn took a step closer to him.

“Don’t bite him, Merc. You go on with Bryn. I’ll be just fine out here,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. It was just sinking in that there was an actual bullet a couple inches from my brain. I gulped. Just a little pressure on the trigger, and I could be Tammy in a locket or a brooch. Or in one of the earrings I had on, which were mighty small. I wished I’d worn real gold instead of Wal-Mart junk.

Bryn grabbed Merc’s collar and hauled him up. Merc twisted, and I winced as he scratched Bryn’s forearm.

“Easy,” Bryn said in a low voice to Mercutio. There was a lulling quality to the magic that dripped from his tongue. Bryn whispered something else. It sounded soothing, but I felt the back edge of the magic and knew that Bryn had said something dark, like: “You can kill him later.”

Mercutio calmed, though he opened his jaw in a snarl to show off teeth that were made to tear things to pieces.

“If you bring anyone with you, they die and so does she. Better come back alone, Lyons.”

When they were gone, I tried to relax my muscles. It didn’t work all that well.

Raindrops turned to drizzle. Wet, cold, miserable, and scared. I’d had better days.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Let’s go,” Scarface said, pulling me backward toward the woods.

“I thought you wanted the brooch!” I said, moving slowly, stalling our progress.

Uneven ground made his body jerk as he nearly stumbled.

“Hey, be careful! I don’t want to get shot by accident!”

Just inside the woods, he shoved me face-first against a tree.

“Don’t move,” he said, pushing on my back so that my belly, which was only covered by the thin layer of draped silk, scraped against the bark. A moment later, he grabbed my left wrist, and I felt a metal cuff snap around it. The next second, he whirled me around and jerked my arms up. He brought the links of the shackles over the tree branch. I struggled against him trying to stretch me upward, but he lifted me by my right wrist and closed the cuff around it. He let me go and I dangled, my toes just touching the ground, my torso pulled so tight it was hard to breathe.

“If you cooperate, I won’t shoot Lyons. If you don’t do what I say, I will kill him where he stands.”

My heart seized up at that. “You’re not supposed to kill me, are you? You used tranquilizers when you came for me alone. But when you come to Bryn’s property, you carry a gun with real bullets.”

“You heard what I said.”

I took a sip of air, feeling slightly dizzy. “Did you kill Gwen to get the brooch? Your boss, John Barrett, sure wants it back pretty bad. Want to know why?”

“Quiet,” he snarled, pinching my chin viciously. It throbbed and I glared at him, trying to suck in a deep breath. My body swayed. Half dangling from the branch, it was hard to steady myself.

I brought my hands together, cupping the thick branch and trying to get some purchase. I had to do something. Bryn was going to be back soon, and I was pretty sure Scarface was lying about not killing Bryn if I behaved myself. He’d tried to shoot Bryn the last time he’d been on the property. I was willing to bet that when he got the brooch back for John Barrett, he was under orders to kill Bryn.