Honey House (18 page)

I tried to mumble about the direction of my cabin, but Amelia would have none of it. She half carried me to her luxury cabin and lowered me gently to the bed. All I wanted to do was to let the narcotics wash the pain away but Amelia forced me to drink a glass of water into which she’d poured a few drops from a vial.

“You sleep, KC. I can fix everything,” Amelia said as she passed a damp washcloth over my face.

My eyes closed and this time the dreams stayed away while I slept.

****

The House was happy to have me home. As strange as it sounds, there was no other way to describe the atmosphere of relief that surrounded me when I went through the door. The feeling was mutual. Whatever potion Amelia had given me pushed the pain and nausea back, but they had hovered around the edges, threatening to return at any time. The minute I walked through the door, the pain receded completely.
I am home
.

Amelia followed me to my apartment without invitation and settled herself on the couch. Apparently, the hours spent together on the trip here hadn’t been enough. She had more to say.

“I know you
think
you’ve heard me, but the pain was interfering, KC. Listen carefully, one more time. Pay attention.

“The Honey House has chosen
you
. If you try to leave permanently again, neither of you will be well. That doesn’t mean you
can’t
leave, but it is the
intent
of your leaving that’s important. You never intended to return when you ran back to your cruise line and that is unacceptable. The Honey House must pass from one of us to another and never before the House is ready.

“It is a most powerful magick.
You
are magick, KC. It is up to you to find the source of your magick, but it’s there, underneath your skin, a part of you. How can you explain the things you’ve seen, the glimpses of the future? How can you explain the illness that gripped you when you left the House, intending never to return?”

“I don’t know,” I said simply. “There are so many strange things that happen around here, and everyone in Juniper Springs seems to know about it but me. Are there really werewolves or aren’t there? What about the spiritual healing at Rapture? Or the Vortex Infusions?”

“Child, I don’t know what is happening here right now, it’s no longer my time. I suspect this is why you were chosen by the House. Whatever is happening, you will be strong enough to deal with it. Your powers will emerge when they are needed. You must leave yourself open to all the possibilities.”

I thought about all she’d said for a minute, and then in a small voice, asked, “What about the sheriff? I can’t go back to jail. I won’t.”

Amelia took on a grim expression. “I don’t know what to make of him, it’s never been an issue before, that I know of.”

At my quizzical expression, Amelia continued. “I don’t know his role, KC. Or if he has one. I sense…I sense he’s hiding something, but prognostication and reading people is not my strength. It
is
yours, however, so if anyone knows, it should be you. Now, I need to go, will you be all right?”

“Yes, I think so. I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to do.”

“Find Joanne’s Book of Shadows. It will guide your study. This is a journey for you, KC. A journey to uncover your hidden magick. There are people like us that act as instruments, some carry messages, some heal, some have the power to shape the future. There are many with magick out there. Most people go through their lives thinking the world is only what they can see. We know there is so much more, just waiting to be discovered. Find your own magick, your own power, KC.”

****

I woke refreshed, feeling better than I had in weeks. I’d forgotten to call Gregory to arrange for a delivery of morning goodies, so an early morning breakfast outing was on the agenda. I started the coffee and sat down in the dining room to wait for that first delicious hit of caffeine. The door to the kitchen opened and Gregory sailed through carrying a small basket and a bouquet of flowers.

“Good morning, love. Welcome home. I hope you don’t mind I brought you a few treats.”

“Gregory!” I hopped up and fell into his welcoming hug. “How did you know I was here? Thanks for breakfast,” I said digging into the basket for a fresh muffin and yogurt.

“It’s a small town, remember?” he smiled.

I grimaced. “Yes it is. What’s happening, have I missed anything?”

“Nothing. Except maybe Quinn is even more of an ass than usual.” Gregory laughed.

“Is that right? Maybe you should mind your own fucking business,” a dark voice said as Quinn entered from the other side of the room.

I would really need to see about the House just letting Quinn in whenever he showed up.

“Oops, sounds like my cue to leave. Come to dinner on Friday, KC. We’ll catch up. Bye, Quinn,” Gregory said and disappeared through the kitchen door.

Silently cursing Gregory for deserting me, I kept my back to Quinn. It didn’t help. I could still
feel
him. His was a large, unhappy presence pressing against me. It was like being surrounded by a twilight forest. Dark and earthy, full of mystery. I wasn’t sure whether to welcome the night or run in terror. I slowly turned and found he’d moved silently to the coffee and was pouring himself a cup. Maybe he wasn’t as out of sorts as I’d imagined.

“Sheriff,” I said.

Looking up, he stared out of heavy lids, his honey colored eyes dark with emotion. It reminded me of our night together in bed. I didn’t want to remember that night.

“You were gone a long time. Are you all right?”

“Yes.” It was all the answer he deserved.

After a long pause, he said with a sigh, “Would it help if I said I was sorry?”

I blinked. There was a problem with that question. Some people might think it was an apology, but it wasn’t. It was one of those nonsense phrases people say when they should apologize but don’t want to.

“I don’t know,” I said, not giving an inch. “Why don’t you try apologizing and we’ll see?” I didn’t put any sugar on it.

Quinn crossed the floor until he was towering over me, and that just pissed me off. If he was trying to intimidate me, he had the wrong woman. Rather than struggle to look all the way up that tall body, I sat down and casually sipped my coffee. Since I wasn’t giving Quinn my eyes, he would have to sit to join me at my level if he wanted to meet my gaze. Fair’s fair, after all.

Quinn pulled back a chair and sat for a good thirty seconds, hands playing idly with his coffee cup, fingers tap, tap, tapping on the rim. He said nothing, but I wasn’t going to help.

“Shit, I’m no good at this,” he said, and then pushed his chair back as he abruptly stood up again.

I wasn’t waiting for an apology. I didn’t expect one. What I did expect was a la-di-dah story about my being a known ex-con, and since Edwin Merkham was an upstanding citizen, he’d had no choice but to secure me while he got Merkham medical attention.

From a very distant part of my brain, that all made sense. I couldn’t help but be hurt, though. We had made love. Or at least, we’d had sex. He ate here every day. Didn’t he at least know me well enough to know I hadn’t attacked Merkham without provocation? Did he really think I was devious enough to fake the phone call for help?

I watched as Quinn refilled his coffee and grabbed a muffin. I could see the muscles in the corner of his jaw bunching and the line of his jaw was tight. He was struggling with whatever it was he wanted to say.

“The werewolves are real,” Quinn said without preamble.

I choked on the coffee I’d been sipping. “What did you say?” My voice pitched so high I almost didn’t recognize it.

Quinn brought his coffee back to my table, hooked a foot around the chair to turn it backwards. With an easy stride, he straddled the chair and draped his arms over the back, cradling his cup loosely in his hands. “It’s what everybody in Juniper Springs knows and you don’t. The werewolves are real. Jason Brill discovered the truth and was about to publish it. Somebody killed him to keep it secret. At least that’s the theory I’m working on.” Now that he’d started talking, Quinn looked grimly determined to see it through to the end.

“The rumors about Juniper Springs started years ago, and at first it seemed like a good idea to encourage the gossip. In an effort to make it seem more like a joke, Raymond and some others started The Way They Were. TWTW would take them out in the jeeps at night and the real weres would let them catch glimpses, but nothing too obvious. Nobody really believed. It was like going on a photo safari for Big Foot or the Loch Ness monster.

“Then paranormal adventure seeking became a big thing, business built up all around town and in Sedona. Some of the tourists started getting a little bold, wandering out near the ranch on full moons. Last summer, one teenager jumped off the jeep tour he was on and hid out there because he wanted to be turned into a werewolf. That was too dangerous.

“We instituted the full moon curfew, but made it seem more as if it were part of the joke. Only the folks in town knew it wasn’t a myth, and that it could be dangerous for people to be out on the full moon. Generally speaking, most shape shifters aren’t dangerous. But if someone is new to shifting, the full moon can make them unpredictable, so we keep everyone in and give the shifters the night.”

“Generally speaking,” I repeated blankly.

I fingered the healed bite marks Quinn had left on my neck. “How does someone really become a werewolf?” I asked, struggling to keep the fear at bay.

“You get infected with the lycanthropy virus,” he answered, all matter-of-fact now that he’d spilled his big secret.

Duh
. “And how exactly does one catch the lycanthropy virus?” I asked, a sick feeling growing in the pit of my stomach.

“Through the bite or scratch of an infected lycanthrope,” Quinn blithely answered.

Shit.

Chapter Sixteen

The late afternoon sunlight spilled through the windows as I climbed the rolling ladder to the top bookshelf. I was determined to either find Joanne’s Book of Shadows, or eliminate the library as a possible hiding place. It was now the second day of my search and I was officially frustrated.

While I’d searched for the book, Gabrielle supervised a major spring cleaning for the Honey House. From my precarious perch on the top rung of the ladder, I looked around the library, admiring the gleaming wood floors, the sparkling windows. The whole place felt fresh, clean, and happy to have me home. Maybe I’d ask the cleaning crew to come in and clean regularly. I really enjoyed a clean house, but that didn’t mean I liked cleaning.

It had seemed the like a good idea to start my search in the library—that whole hide in plain sight type of theory. I was seriously second guessing myself now that I’d been through nearly every book. It was looking as though Joanne hid her book somewhere else, probably in her own personal space.

The elusive Book of Shadows was on the very top of the last shelf, hidden between the covers of a classic version of Lewis Carroll’s
Through the Looking Glass
. I was right with the first guess, I thought with a grin. I randomly grabbed four other books from the shelves for camouflage.

The cleaning crew left and I locked up the front door, telling the House in a stern voice to keep it locked until morning.
Sheesh…talking to my house.
Maybe I should get a cat.
No one thought it was strange when people talked to pets, right?

The place had been empty since I’d returned from my self-imposed exile. Other than Gregory and Gabi, I’d seen no one since Quinn had left two mornings ago. I told myself that was a good thing, since I’d needed the time to process everything he’d told me.
Werewolves were real
. It was nice to have that finally confirmed.

Considering that I’d already accepted that psychics and witches could be real, it wasn’t very hard to add werewolves to the list of things in which I believed. Of course, werewolves scared me and witches didn’t, but maybe that was because I was afraid of the healed bite marks on my neck?

I hadn’t the courage to ask Quinn if he was a werewolf and if I was now infected with lycanthropy. I suppose I’d know for sure in a little more than a week. I would certainly have my answer if I turned furry.

I stacked the books from the library on my bedside table. My bedtime story promised to be interesting. As much as I wanted to sit and read, it was time to get ready to go to Owen and Gregory’s house for dinner. If everyone in the community was in on this werewolf secret, then it was time to start collecting answers from people besides Quinn.

****

Owen answered the door, looking even more deliciously handsome than usual. His clear, gray eyes swept appreciatively over me from top to bottom and back, before his gaze settled on my face. We just stared at each other for a long minute before he pulled me close against his broad chest and wrapped his strong arms around me. I could hear the rapid beat of his heart in time with my own speeding pulse. Was he as nervous as I was?

Owen cupped my face between his palms and lowered his mouth slowly. It was impossible to turn away from the heat in his gaze. His kiss was unexpectedly gentle, lips closed, chaste. I raised my hands to his face, mirroring the way he was holding mine. The heat began to flow between my palms, just as it did when I was receiving a vision about someone’s future.

Owen pulled back. “KC, sweetheart. Don’t ever leave us like that again.” His thumbs caressed my cheekbones, and he looked steadily into my eyes, silently demanding my acquiescence.

I looked away, unsure of what my eyes might reveal.

“KC, you need to know some things, and not all of them are mine to tell you, but know this. You belong to this place now. You can’t just walk away. I know you can feel it, and I know it must be overwhelming at times. Sweetheart, you are chock full of magick just waiting to spill over, and you need to be
here
when that happens. There are people here who will be able to help you, to keep you safe. Promise me.” He used his grip on my face to force me to meet his gaze.