Serena's Magic (21 page)

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Authors: Heather Graham

BOOK: Serena's Magic
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As Justin had promised, the locks were changed.

They spent long hours in the whirlpool, and Serena also talked about herself, telling him about escapades she had gotten into with her brother, and about growing up in a historic city where it was assumed everyone knew that witches had and did practice their craft.

“But you never became a witch?” Justin murmured.

“I never believed in the practices,” Serena said.”

And Justin became very serious. “The whole secret is in the words you just said, Serena. I have seen people actually die under voodoo spells. Not because any curse existed, but because the poor victim believed that it did. The mind can be a very powerful weapon. Probably the most powerful on earth. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Serena whispered. But did she? In the Manhattan apartment, when all was secure in his arms she could tell herself that she did. There were only a few shaky moments when she stood alone that she thought that things were just too beautiful.

Shades of the past. An instant, inexplicable love.

Their first stop when they reached Salem was the courthouse, where they applied for their wedding license.

And although Serena had felt her skin begin to prickle on the return drive to the Golden Hawk, their actual arrival was wonderful. It was just dusk, and Serena discovered that Tom had stayed and that he and Martha had thrown together an engagement party. Susan and a number of her coven were in attendance, as well as a number of the distinguished gentlemen and ladies who made up the chamber of commerce.

The secret staircase wells were secret no more. Tom had had all of the lever-door paneling removed and her bedroom door repaired.

And most conspicuous of all, the portrait of Eleanora was forever gone. Even Marc made an appearance to tell her he and Tom had donated both the picture and the diary to the historical society.

Serena would have kissed Marc, except that she still felt terribly awkward. He and Justin had greeted one another cordially enough, and Serena discovered with an inner amusement that Marc had asked Justin how he felt about his old room being taken over by a ghost-writer.

Justin had agreed, telling Marc, to Serena’s surprise, that they wouldn’t be around for another two weeks of the summer anyway. They’d be heading somewhere for a honeymoon.

Mildred Donnesy pleaded to keep her new job for the remainder of the summer. Sue told Serena that the museum had been running just fine; her senior citizen assistants had done so well that she had even taken two afternoons off.

“Mildred makes a wonderful witch,” Mr. Donnesy claimed glibly, drawing a sharp glance from his wife only to smile guilelessly in return.

In her room when the party had ended, Serena had to admit that it seemed everything was going to be fine. Even the blank portion of her wall—the stairwell was cut off only by a semiattractive wood-carved safety fence—seemed to offer nothing malicious.

Justin came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. “How are we doing, witch-lady?” he murmured.

She circled around into his arms and smiled. “Fine, Dr. O’Neill,” she said, “just fine.”

And she was fine. That night.

Serena went in to work on Thursday morning and enjoyed watching the Donnesys and Bakers so much that she wondered why she had never offered them a chance to work before.

Mildred did make a marvelous witch.

“It’s a pity they can’t stay on,” Sue commented as both she and Serena sat out most of the day in the office, talking.

Serena shrugged. “Both Giles and Pierce have chronic bronchitis. They both have to head south after the summer. The New England winters would literally kill them.” She frowned worriedly. “We’ll find someone suitable to be your assistant, I’m sure.”

Sue laughed. “Honey, finding someone isn’t going to be difficult. Half the people I know want the job. The problem at the moment is to decide upon whom I want to bestow the honor! And then the real problem is that—well, I’m sure as hell going to miss you.”

Serena smiled. “I’ll miss you, too, Sue. But we’ll be less than five hours away, probably here every other weekend.” She took a sip of coffee and then asked quietly, “Sue, do you think this is insane? I mean getting married so quickly?”

“Not when you’re that sure about love,” Sue replied. “You need time when you don’t know, honey, not when you do. And besides, I went out and spent a fortune on a new dress to stand up for you! Back out on me now, and I’ll have to get married Saturday night.”

Serena laughed. “Well, if I promise I won’t back out, will you help me with another problem?”

“What’s that?”

“Help me figure out what I’m going to do with people. Justin wants to have two colleagues and his daughter come up. Okay, listen good and hang with me. The inn has six rooms. Mine, Tom’s, and Martha’s, and the three we let out. Tom is staying for the weekend, so his room is taken. Justin and I will be leaving Saturday night, which empties my room. Marc has taken Justin’s old room, but he’ll just have to go home for Friday and Saturday night. The Donnesys and the Bakers will still be in their rooms. Are you still with me? That leaves me with three people and only two rooms—short of space.”

“Easy,” Sue said. “Justin’s professor friends can have the two rooms, and his daughter can stay with me.”

“Oh, Sue, I hate to do that to you—”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m dying of curiosity!”

“So am I,” Serena admitted. She shook her head. “I still don’t think I believe all this, Sue. Instant husband—and instant sixteen-year-old. And instant New York City—”

“You’re starting to sound jittery,” Sue warned. “I think you should get out of here and go buy a dress—and a pack of lacy lingerie and anything else you can think of! There’s only tomorrow, and then there’s Saturday—and then two
P.M.
!”

“I guess I will go pick up some things,” Serena murmured. She glanced at Sue with a frown. “I think it’s been a little insulting to realize how dispensable I am!”

“Not to Justin,” Sue said softly. “And to be indispensable to a man you love … well, that’s what counts, honey.”

“Thanks, Sue,” Serena replied. She collected a few things she had strewn on the desk and dug her purse out from beneath her desk. She smiled as she walked toward the door and then paused.

“Sue, I’m sure Tom has told you about the stairwell and the diary. And that I came out of the stairwell shrieking that Justin … was Miles.”

Sue glanced at her nails. “Yeah, I heard.”

“Well?”

“You were locked in a dark stairwell for hours. It’s easy to believe anything in that kind of circumstance.”

“Sue!” Serena persisted. “No vibes at all?”

“I’ve liked Justin from the beginning, Serena, and I always told you so.”

Serena smiled with worried eyes and left. I am fine, she told herself. I know I was being silly. I know a dark stairwell can make you think anything.

Then why was Sue hedging?

She wasn’t hedging; if she didn’t believe things would be okay, she would say something, she would try to stop me.

And oh, brother! What is happening to me! I don’t believe in any of this, and I tease Susan constantly about her “vibes.”

Disgusted with herself, she forced her mind to concentrate on the excitement and wonder of getting married, committing herself to Justin for life and receiving the commitment in return. She went into her favorite boutique and almost immediately found what she wanted—
the
special dress, a pale mauve that hugged her figure and actually made her eyes look violet to herself. The wedding would be small, just those who had attended the party and Justin’s friends and his daughter. And it would take place at the inn.

But although she wouldn’t be a young bride in frothy white again, it would be even more of an occasion to her because there were still times that she had to shake her head with a certain awe at the fact that Justin was really hers … forever.

He greeted her at the door when she came home. “Jenny gets into Boston tomorrow night at five. Flight 307 from Cincinnati. Coming with me to pick her up?”

Serena nodded happily and kissed him. “Of course. Oh, Justin, I hope she likes me!”

He kissed her nose. “She’s going to love you.”

It was a nice night. They spent the evening talking with Tom, and Serena was thrilled to see how well the man she adored and the brother she loved dearly got along. It was very late when she fell asleep in Justin’s arms, and her dreams should have been sweet.

They were terrifying.

She was awakened from them by a piercing scream of horror that filled the night air with jagged, hysterical shrieks.

And she was the one screaming.

CHAPTER TEN

A
HAND CLAMPED FIRMLY
over her mouth.

“Dammit to hell, Serena! Shush! You’re going to have the whole house up here thinking I’m beating you to death!”

Justin spoke with a thin veil of soothing humor over an irritation he simply couldn’t bury. He released her mouth slowly, whispering, “What the hell is the matter with you?”

Serena sprang from the bed, shaking. She stared at him in the moonlit dimness of the room, her eyes wide with an unfathomable fear. She tried to speak, failed, and finally managed, “Justin—it can’t be. It simply can’t be. Something terrible is going to happen.”

To his amazement she spun from him and headed for the door. He leapt after her, reaching the door before her and catching her in his arms as he blocked the exit from her.

“You’re damned right something terrible is going to happen,” he charged her. “You’ll get to see a real jealous fit, and I will start beating you if you go running out of this room stark naked.”

She paused and blinked, and he realized she had only now become fully conscious. He shook her slightly, whispering a sharp “Serena!” She stared into his eyes, lips trembling, then threw herself into his arms. She was still shaking with sobs of terror.

He let her cry for a second, smoothing back her hair as she drenched his chest with tears. Then he picked her up and walked her back to the bed where he laid her down and pulled the covers around her before joining her, propped up on an elbow as he held her securely.

“It can’t be, Justin,” she murmured, her eyes meeting his clearly but still liquid with tears.

“Serena, you had a dream,” he told her firmly. “And I’m not throwing my life away because of a dream.”

“But—”

“Tell me about it.”

“I …” She wanted to tell him, to explain, but she knew her explanation would be weak because description couldn’t make him understand the overwhelming terror she had felt.

“Tell me, Serena,” he insisted softly, hand firm and securely steadying over her hip as he lay beside her, touching her with the warm length of his body.

“You were coming at me, Justin, but all I could really see were your eyes. And the deeper I looked, the more I could see that the brown within them was actually yellow fire. You had no pupils, Justin. … Your eyes were actually fire. …”

She paused, biting a lip as she realized he had to think she was crazy to scream like a child over a dream about fire in his eyes.

“Go on,” he urged her softly.

“You were calling to me, and I couldn’t tell what you were saying. I felt that I had to go to you, and yet that if I did I would catch fire. … I … I just couldn’t tell if you were trying to help me … or … or burn me with the flame. And then …”

“Then what?”

“You kept getting closer, and I was paralyzed with fear. And then suddenly the fire wasn’t in your eyes at all. It burst between us and the flames reached into the sky and they were blue with intensity. …”

“And then you woke up,” he concluded softly.

“Yes.”

He hugged her close to him, soothing her with gentle strokes over her shoulder and arm. “Serena, I would never hurt you.”

“I believe that, Justin,” she murmured, “I mean, not intentionally. But, Justin, I’m so frightened! It’s just like the dream. I want you so badly, but I can’t tell what’s wrong. …”

“There’s nothing wrong,” he said firmly, “and I’m not going to allow anything to be wrong. Half your problem is this damn house—and we’ll be out of it on Sunday.”

“Justin, it isn’t the house. Neither of us believes in haunted houses. I’ve lived here all my life, and I never had a problem until you … until we—”

“Serena,” he interrupted firmly. “You’re right—I don’t believe in haunted houses. And I’m sure you don’t either. But I do believe in the power of suggestion. You have all this Eleanora nonsense on your mind, and it’s giving you nightmares. I’m telling you right now, Serena—I love you. And I don’t give a damn about what happened to Eleanora Hawk centuries ago. We’re going to be married on Saturday if I have to drug you and drag you down the aisle—because I know you love me too.”

“No, Justin, our lives—”

“Serena,” he whispered softly, “it was a dream, and yes, dreams can be very terrifying! But I’m here, and I’m going to hold you through the night, and I won’t even try to sleep until—”

“Oh, don’t you understand, Justin? It isn’t only me! When that fire came up, I didn’t know who was going to suffer … to pay—me, or
you
!”

“Serena,” he said, laughing. “Look at me, sweetheart. What do you think is going to happen to me?”

“Justin—”

“I’ll always be very careful—”

“Dammit. Don’t patronize me, Justin!”

Serena felt his muscles tense, saw the telltale tic in his jaw. “And don’t push the limits of my patience!” he exclaimed in return, his whisper harsh. “Now it’s the middle of the night. Let’s get some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep, I keep remembering—”

“Well,” he murmured, and a subtle difference came to his tone. “I’ll bet I can make you forget all about it. If I’m going to be awake anyway …”

Tom Hawk had been dreaming himself when his eyes suddenly flew open. He was glad to be awakened; his own dream wasn’t pleasant, but whether he had actually heard or sensed his sister’s scream, he didn’t know.

He bolted from his bed and secured a terry robe around himself before flinging open his door and racing down the hallway.

In front of Serena’s door he paused in consternation, his hand halted in the middle of intent before he could tap on the new wood.

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