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Authors: Rachel James

BOOK: Sacred Circle
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“Have you been ill? You look tired.”

Brianna felt a sting of tears and blinked them back.

“Does hearing cat cries dancing on the wind count? Or a heightened sense of awareness that your life has become an episode of
The Twilight Zone
? Or perhaps, it's the cryptic messages my brain is sending me.”

“Like what?”

“What happened in the circle? Why did it happen? Who's responsible for it? When did the ritual go wrong? At the start? Near the end? Where will the answers come from?”

His fingers touched her lips.

“We'll get all those answers, I promise you.”

She swallowed convulsively as he dropped his fingers and swung about. They'd find the answers together. He sounded so sure of the words. And so sure that she'd agree. Why had she ignored her instincts and come alone? If only she had taken Tommy up on his offer to accompany her on the trip. Instead, she had given him her power of attorney and demanded he find a new buyer for the foundation as soon as possible. And though she had been disappointed that he agreed to the suggestion, she knew she couldn't expect him to drop everything to babysit her. Still, she wished she wasn't facing the Elders with Devlin by her side. They would misinterpret the pairing and automatically assume they had built a life together after leaving the coven.

Appalled by a sudden vision of being swept into Devlin's arms and kissed soundly, she banished the thought to her “never bring this up again” file. Her coat was suddenly wrested from her fingers, and she realized Devlin had unlocked the passenger door and was holding it open for her. She slipped onto the front seat cushion, ducking when he tossed the coat over the front seat into the back. The door clicked shut beside her, and a moment later, she felt a breeze on her back as Devlin opened the rear hatch and tossed her suitcase in alongside his. Skirting the tail light, he then joined her in the front seat. As he fired the engine, Brianna clasped her seatbelt.

“I never meant to grow into this bitter person, Devlin. I had great hopes for being happy.”

“So did I.” He gave her a brief glance as he strapped himself in, and then slipping the car into reverse, he angled out of the parking space. Two left turns later, he was concentrating on the exit signs overhead, and ignoring Brianna completely.

Totally depressed, Brianna fell into a mind-fugue filled with self-doubt. Had she been wrong in taking her bitterness out on Devlin? In all her guilt-filled days, she had never once given thought to the pain he must've endured for admitting blame for Brenda's death. She had only thought of herself and her banishment from the community. Looking back now, she realized he must've gone through his own personal hell—alienated from the people he had longed to serve.

“I took the liberty of buying dinner for you in the airport,” he said, letting the Jeep settle into a leisurely pace on the Interstate. “It's only fast food, but I imagine after the day you've had, even a Cuban sandwich will taste like a steak.” He reached behind his seat, grabbed a bag from the floorboard, and flung it into Brianna's lap. “I had to rearrange a NASA meeting from today until next week, and it took a lot longer than I expected. I managed a brief dinner of a Burrito Supreme and soda myself.”

Brianna popped the bag open.

“Food! You're an angel,” she declared.

“Really? I'm an angel?” He gave a wry grin. “What have you done with the bossy, sassy Brianna that I once knew?”

“She'll be back as soon as she finishes eating.” Turning her attention to the inside of the bag, she studied the wrapped hoagie. “This looks heavenly.” Reaching in, she pulled the sandwich out and undid the wrapping. She took a bite, and then brought her gaze back to Devlin, who was flashing a can of Coke in front of her face. She dropped her sandwich and took the can, popping the tab and taking a quick sip. Another can waved in front of her face.

“Open the can for me, will you?”

Brianna placed her can and bag between her jean-clad legs and took the offered can. He was ordering her about, as if he owned her. Perhaps she should open the can and hurl the liquid in his face. No, the surprise shower could send the Jeep hurtling off the road and into a ditch. She wasn't quite ready to die to stroke his alpha male ego. She wiped the top of the can, popped the tab, and then handed it back to him. He took a quick sip.

“I want you to know that when I left Green Sapphire, it was your father's wish that I not look back,” he stated. “I've kept that promise. I'm sure you did the same, so the less we talk about whom did what to whom, and how much it hurt, the easier it will be to get through these next couple of days.”

Brianna was stunned by the quiet force of his words.

“You spoke with Papa before you left? I didn't know.”

He didn't take the hint to embellish on the story and she didn't have the courage to push him. She didn't remember him visiting, and neither of her parents had said a word to her about him before he left the coven. When had they met, and what had been said?

“Change the subject, Brianna,” he cautioned, seeing her mouth open. She snapped it shut, and then taking his advice, she changed the subject and began munching on her sandwich again.

“Did Papa give you any hint of what type of ritual Mother was doing when she fell ill?” she asked between bites. “He was purposely vague on the phone.”

“Sorry, he only said she had lost consciousness during a ceremony. We didn't talk long. He muttered ‘goodbye' and hung up on me.”

Brianna couldn't contain a shiver.

“Have you ever heard of a High Priestess collapsing inside a Sacred Circle during a ritual? I haven't.” He didn't answer, his attention diverted by a sudden gray shadow streaking across the road in front of the Jeep. The car lurched and then hugged the road again. Glancing down, she studied the last section of her sandwich. “What type of ritual could Mother have been doing?” she asked, “Could it have been a binding spell? They aren't foolproof. They can backfire.”

“She'd do a protection spell before ever trying a binding.”

“Perhaps I'm the cause.”

She heard a brief chuckle.

“There's the Brianna I know. It's all about you . . . no, don't hiss. I can't imagine anyone digging into your past and coming up with your coven background, can you?”

Brianna pretended to think on it, glad he didn't know that she had revealed her past to Tommy. Swallowing the last morsel of meat and cheese, she peeked in the bag again and found a bag of unopened potato chips. Withdrawing it, she popped open the bag, enjoying the delicious tang of salt on her tongue.

“Stranger things have happened though,” she remarked. She dabbed a speck of saliva from the side of her mouth. “Thanks to the Internet, it's hard to keep anything a secret permanently.”

“True,” he agreed, taking a swig of soda. “Following your train of thought, her illness appears to be personal, which would lend itself to someone in the coven interfering with the ritual.”

Brianna didn't even attempt to hide her anger.

“If I find out that evil was spawned in a coven member's heart and mother was the recipient of that evil, I'll . . .” She swallowed her salty chip, surprised when it slid down so easily. “Well, let's just say, I'll not take the news gracefully.”

“That fact will work in our favor once we arrive,” Devlin stated. “We no longer have a vested interest in the commune, which will allow one of us to pick up on any negative energy that may be lingering and confront the Elders about it.”

Brianna took a quick swallow of Coke.

“I may not have been part of the Wicca world in years, but I promise you I still know a thing or two about casting spells.”

“Can that kind of talk. It's bad karma.”

“It would be justice all around.”

Brianna heard a light sigh.

“It's clear you haven't changed much since leaving home.” He reached over and helped himself to a chip from the bag. He popped it into his mouth.

“Why did you come, Devlin? You don't owe the coven anything; not anymore.”

He looked startled by the question, but took another swig of soda before answering.

“You can't imagine how convincing your father's goodbye was. He said he had made the same phone call to you. Knowing you, I knew how you'd react. You'd come home for your mother's sake, and when you did, I knew you'd need an ally.”

Brianna was floored by his reasoning. They weren't friends; he had no reason to be interested in her welfare, especially since she had shredded his character to pieces the last time they had met.
I hope you rot in hell.
Hadn't that been what she had hurled at him? She studied his profile and knew without question, he wouldn't judge her for her actions—past or present. And she knew too, his reasoning said a lot more about her character than his. She tossed her head at him.

“Do you realize that this is first time we have managed to go longer than a minute without sniping at each other?”

“God sends a miracle every so often,” he responded, grabbing her napkin and wiping his mouth.

“Don't be rude. You know that we both excel in the art of bad behavior. You have only to look back and see that when Papa paid more attention to you than he did to me, my behavior became atrocious. And then so did yours.”

“Is it as simple as that, do you think?”

“It's not about simple when you're nine,” Brianna answered. “It's about being paid attention to. Besides, everyone expected you to marry me, and I hated that, especially since you weren't a born coven member.”

“Ah, yes, the proverbial outsider,” Devlin said, with a grimace. “Always on the outside, looking in.”

Brianna saw the scowl that followed and knew she had touched a nerve.

“Perhaps we should change the subject,” she said.

“I'm actually enjoying this one.”

“Well, I'm not, and if we continue on this track, I might be tempted to remind you how lucky you were to be in the running as the next High Priest of the coven. That's why I was so jealous of you.”

“Funny, I thought it was because my appointment would mean that you would have to marry me when you came of age.”

Brianna crumpled the bag in her lap between her fingers.

“Now you're just being spiteful. You know my parents would have never sanctioned a marriage between us. We would've killed each other before the wedding ceremony was over, and how would that look listed in the historical pages of the Coven Book of Shadows?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Cinderella, but the marriage was already arranged, except for the ‘I do's' and the Joining.”

Brianna blanched.

“You're joking. I'd never have married you.”

“Too bad. You would've made a gorgeous High Priestess.” He stole a peek at her face, and Brianna blushed at the lop-sided grin he gave her.

“You're teasing me.”

“Maybe.”

Brianna snorted.

“Everyone knows you had the hots for Brenda back then. Why do you think Francis disliked you so much? She was everything he wanted in a girlfriend and a wife. And she had a crush on you.”

“She had a crush on me? I wish I had known.”

“You did know,” Brianna scoffed, “Don't you dare deny it.”

He grinned again, and then shrugged nonchalantly. Brianna turned her attention to the roadway, digesting his earlier words. When had her parents arranged a marriage between them? They hadn't, she knew; it was inconceivable that they would favor Devlin over Jordy Skyler. Jordy Skyler was her soul mate; the love of her life. She watched the flashing shadows out the window.

“You're pouting.”

Brianna turned in her seat.

“Actually I was thinking of Jordy Skyler.”

“Him? Don't tell me you still have the red hots for him after all these years.”

“You never forget the boy who gave you your first real kiss,” she sighed.

“Nor the man who gives you a kiss that melts your soul,” he responded.

Stunned by such a romantic insight coming from him, Brianna returned her gaze to the flashing landscape. She wasn't going to start fantasizing about soul melting kisses, not with the clean smell of Devlin's aftershave teasing her nose.
What about all those rippling muscles and his sculpted body?
her inner voice prompted. She ignored the question, opening her purse instead, and pulling out her compact mirror. The reflection that slid into view seconds later revealed a woman tired, worn-down, and not at all sexy. Her mascara streaks were flaky; her eye liner fading. She pulled the dropped napkin from the seat and wiped away the black marks streaking the underside of her eye socket. Then reaching into her makeup bag, she pulled out a lipstick tube and began smearing it on. A few moments later, a chuckle sounded and Brianna halted her movements.

“What?”

“Nothing, just amused by your attempt to improve on perfection.”

Brianna gave a haughty sniff.

“As my friend Tommy Cloisters would say, ‘There is no such thing as perfection, blue eyes. There's only a hopeful illusion of it.'”

“I like this Tommy Cloisters. Perhaps one day, you'll tell me how you met such a sage philosopher?”

Brianna snapped her mirror shut, and re-pocketed it in her purse. Settling back, she turned her gaze to Devlin's profile.

“Perhaps one day you'll tell me where you went after leaving Green Sapphire, and what you've managed to accomplish since leaving.”

“It's a deal,” he nodded. He leaned over and turned the radio dial. “Care for some music?”

“Yes, something soothing.” Brianna laid her head back against the headrest. “Something that makes these last horrible days a distant memory.”

“Done. Cat nap if you can,” he advised, seeing her shoulders sag.

The dulcet tones of Josh Groban filled the Jeep a few seconds later and Brianna tuned into the soft, soothing melody. In a matter of minutes, the rocking of the Jeep had her dropping into a deep sleep.

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