Halfway Hexed Read online

  I pressed the security button at Bryn’s gate and waited.

  A voice that I didn’t recognize said, “Can I help you?”

  “Sure can. Can you open the gate for me? I’m Tammy Jo. Mr. Lyons probably has me on the list as Tamara, even though no one but him calls me that,” I said, slightly disgruntled at the fact that I’d lost the battle with Bryn over my first name. “My last name is Trask,” I added.

  The gate swung open, but I didn’t drive in immediately. Instead, I pressed the button again. “Hello?”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “You’re new, huh? Are you Steve’s cousin?” Steve was night security at Bryn’s, and I remembered that Bryn had planned to interview his cousin for the day post.

  “Right. I’m Pete.”

  “Nice to meet you, Pete. Steve’s a good guy. Maybe he told you that we’re kind of friends?”

  “He mentioned you. He said that letting you sneak into the house was how the last daytime security officer got fired.”

  That was what Steve had told him? All he’d told him? What about the fact that I’d saved Bryn’s life. Twice! Once from poison. The second time from a flame-throwing warlock. Steve should’ve practically considered me his assistant when it came to safeguarding Bryn and his property. Unless you counted the cars I’d wrecked, which I didn’t think anyone should, considering what we’d been up against. I couldn’t believe Steve had told his cousin about my brief stint as a persona non grata at Casa Lyons. I frowned.

  “Well, me being off the list and sneaking in—those were unusual circumstances.”

  “Let’s hope,” Pete said.

  I huffed and drove through. I parked on the circular drive near the mansion’s front door and rang the bell.

  Mr. Jenson, Bryn’s elderly butler, opened it and greeted me warmly.

  “Is he here?”

  “In the dining room. He’s just sitting down to lunch. Have you eaten, Miss Tamara?”

  “Breakfast a few hours ago.”

  “Very good. You’ll dine here then. We have a special guest chef for the day.”

  “He had you bring in a guest chef?” Ismiled and shook my head. “Being rich isn’t the worst thing in the world, is it, Mr. Jenson?”

  “It has never appeared to be,” he said with a conspiratorial smile. I followed him down the hall, and he opened the door to the dining room.

  If anybody could’ve resisted thinking wow, it sure wasn’t me.

  There were antique mirrors on one wall and two crystal chandeliers overhead. The wall opposite the mirrors was all windows, showing off the landscaped grounds. The enormous dining room table could’ve comfortably seated fourteen.

  Bryn sat at the head of the table closest to the door. He was take-your-breath-away good-looking, but I mostly pretended not to notice. Bryn looked up when Mr. Jenson announced me, and then stood, matching the room’s formality. Mr. Jenson pulled out a chair for me.

  “She’s agreed to stay for lunch,” Mr. Jenson said before slipping out.

  “That explains the memo I got about hell freezing over,” Bryn said dryly. He’d invited me over for dinner every day since our near-death Halloween night. But I hadn’t been to his house since then, because I’d been working a lot . . . and because I’d been avoiding him. We’d gotten pretty close, which made me nervous. Bryn, of course, never got nervous about anything, even when he had good reason to.

  “I’ve been crazy busy, but here I am now, and it’s real good to see you.” I gave him my sweetest smile.

  He appraised me with a look that said he wasn’t going to be taken in by a pretty smile. “I’m glad to see you, but dropping by for lunch isn’t the same as accepting a dinner invitation, and we both know it.”

  I glanced at the oriental place setting and the white potbellied teapot. “I don’t see what the difference is,” I fibbed. “Mr. Jenson said there’s a guest chef here today, and this dining room’s as fancy as any restaurant. So, what’s for lunch?”

  “Sushi,” he said. “My favorite.”

  “Makes sense that that’d be your favorite,” I said.

  He drew his brows together. “Why?” he asked.

  “Your selkie genes.”

  After a moment’s contemplation, he burst out laughing. A few days earlier we’d figured out that we’re each part magical creature.

  Bryn continued smiling. “I guess that’s one possible reason for my preference, but let’s not spread that theory around.”

  I glanced at the empty chairs, then to the room’s corners. “I thought the video surveillance of the downstairs didn’t include sound.”

  “It doesn’t, but now’s an excellent time for us to practice concealing our secrets.”

  Thinking of the brooch, I agreed, though we clearly had different secrets in mind. “Why?” I asked.

  “Several members of the Conclave are en route to Duvall.”

  The blood drained from my face, and I braced my hands on the table. The Conclave was supposed to be the World Association of Magic’s version of the CIA and FBI, but the only Conclave guys I’d met had been more into lawbreaking than law enforcement. Plus, the people on the way were sure to be angry and suspicious because of the recent deaths of their colleagues.

  “When will they be here?”

  “Tomorrow, according to my sources.”

  “Well, what should we do? Leave town? Move into a cave or a jungle hut? Somewhere without telephones or ley lines?”

  Bryn and I had broken WAM’s laws. We weren’t supposed to associate with each other or to share magic, and all they would have to do to find out Bryn and I had spent time together last week was to ask Bryn’s neighbors. Then the Conclave could lock us up. Or worse.

  Bryn reached into his suit coat and slid out a piece of paper. He set it in front of me.

  I opened it. It was a fax dated the day after the WAM wizards had come to town. It said that Bryn had won the appeal against the injunction that prevented us from seeing each other. I was shocked. All the sneaking around I’d done was for nothing?

  “Why didn’t you show me this last week when it came!” I bit off the rest of what I was planning to say when the door opened. Mr. Jenson came in with lunch and a place setting for me. I glared at Bryn, who was as calm as ever. I clenched my fists in my lap until Mr. Jenson left. “Well?” I demanded.

  Bryn poured me tea and said, “You’re going to tell them that I did tell you about this back then. That’s why we’ve been seeing each other, because as far as we know, it’s perfectly legal for us to do that.”

  I cocked my head. On the one hand, it was a nice simple solution to our problem. On the other hand, I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t told me about the ruling earlier. I glanced at the signature on the bottom. John Barrett. The president of WAM. A guy that hated Bryn for interfering in his politics and for stopping him from getting too much power. Barrett had sent wizards to get evidence against Bryn—and to kill him. Why would Barrett have sent the letter to clear Bryn of wrongdoing? Had someone made him do it?

  “Did he have to sign this because you won the appeal?”

  Bryn smudged some ginger on a California roll and shook his head.

  “So then why did he send it?”

  “He didn’t. It’s going to be proven a forgery.”

  My jaw dropped.

  “But we’re going to lie convincingly about it, or we’ll end up in jail.”

  “Can’t we just say that the wizards they sent were homicidal maniacs and that we did what we had to do to survive?”

  “We’ll say that, too, but it wouldn’t be enough. There are proper channels—”

  “But I don’t know the proper channels!” Could the wizard government really be so rigid that they wouldn’t take into account extenuating circumstances? People had been trying to kill us! The town had been under siege! There’d been no time for magical red tape. I wanted to explode with fury and couldn’t understand how Bryn could sit there so calmly.

  “Right, but I
do know the protocols, and they’ll say I should’ve used them, whether I suspected internal corruption or not. They’ll claim there are safeguards to ensure that any communications reach headquarters intact. So if there was a problem here last week, I should’ve reported it and asked for assistance, rather than breaking laws to handle it myself. I wasn’t supposed to be interfering in what happened to you.”

  “Right. You should’ve just let me get killed or whatever.”

  “The documents that have been filed so far don’t reflect that you were in danger. The ones I sent apparently haven’t made it to the WAM offices in London.”

  My eyebrows shot up. Intercepted? Stolen? Destroyed?

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  Bryn didn’t answer, which was probably for the best. I didn’t need the names of the people who spied for him.

  “Look, it’s your choice,” he said. “This is dangerous business. If you tell the truth and agree to do whatever Barrett says, they’ll probably let you off with a warning.”

  “But you couldn’t get off with a warning, and I’m the reason they’re coming. My using magic is what started all this.”

  “You didn’t know what you were getting into. Now that you do, I’ll understand if—”

  I held out a hand. There was no way I would let Bryn go down alone for helping me. Not if I could prevent it. “You showed me the letter last week.”

  The corner of his mouth curved up. “You should bind yourself to me, Tamara. If you’re going to take risks with me, you might as well reap the rewards.” He ran his fingertip over my left ring finger. Warmth and magic danced up my arm and seeped into the deepest parts of my body.

  I shivered, trapped for a moment in his dark blue gaze. I can’t. “That would be crazy. We barely know each other.”

  “We know each other in the way that counts most.”

  I blushed, drawing my hand away from his. Not that I really wanted to pull back. What I really wanted was for him to keep my hand and to take the rest of me along with it. Except I wasn’t supposed to let him have any part of me. I tightened my muscles and looked away from his face. “What else do I need to say about the last couple weeks?”

  “There are two things that you have to remember and never waver about. First, that you saw the letter saying I’d won the appeal. Second, that the curse from the wizards caused the pixie-dust spill. You can’t let it slip about your fae ancestry.”

  “I won’t.”

  He had another bite of sushi while studying me. “Do you know how lawyers help witnesses prepare to give testimony?”

  I shook my head.

  “They practice with them. After lunch, why don’t we spend a few hours getting you ready for their interrogation? I’ll play a Conclave member and ask you questions. You cantry to evade the traps I set for you.”

  “I have to go back to the bakery for a little while, but I can practice until then, and I’ll come back afterward if you think I need to.”

  “Good. Let’s plan on that.”

  “Let’s see first how the afternoon goes. I’ll be back tonight if I need to practice, not just because you want me to come over.”

  “Oh, right. Thanks for setting me straight.” The sarcastic edge to his voice caused a stab of guilt to shoot through me. He’d done a lot for me, and we both knew it. I should’ve been sweeter to him, or at least more gracious. And honestly, I wanted to be. That was the trouble. I couldn’t trust myself around him, so I was doing my best to keep us apart.

  “I wasn’t—it’s not that I don’t want to see you, but you know things are complicated,” I said.

  “Because you allow them to be. And, since we’re setting the record straight, if I wanted to use coercion or trickery to get you here, I would’ve already done it.” I saw the calculation in his eyes and wondered what things he’d contemplated doing to draw me to him. Not for the first time, I felt a little out of my league.

  “Well, I appreciate your restraint,” I said with an exaggerated drawl. “I know it must be tough not to use coercion and trickery. Probably goes against all your lawyerly tendencies.”

  “Tamara.” The one word was a warning.

  I smiled at him, and he rolled his eyes, but the hint of a smile curved the corners of his lips. The man had a lot of patience.

  “With Barrett’s entourage on its way, the other thing that I should do is reinforce the protective wards on the property. Unfortunately, I’m still tapped out after the Valley of Death spell. The easiest way to amass power would be for me to do a spell that includes you,” he said.

  “And then you’ll hold on to the magic we generate? Mine and yours?” I asked, thinking that I wanted to cast a spell on the brooch to find the woman from the vision.

  “Is that a problem?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Why would that be a problem, Tamara? You’re not planning on casting any spells, are you?”

  “Well,” I said, trying to decide how much to tell him. I needed his advice on what kind of spell to try, so I’d have to tell him something. “There’s a premonition that I want to learn more about.”

  “What premonition?”

  I folded my hands on the table. “My great-great-grandma Lenore had a lot of visions, and she was an expert at interpreting them.”

  “So?”

  “She was Edie’s twin sister.” Bryn frowned at the mention of Edie’s name. He and the family ghost didn’t get along. “And the reason my family doesn’t want me to have anything to do with you is that your last name is on a list. Lenore’s List of Nine. Getting involved with you is strictly forbidden.”

  “She made the list based on a dark vision she had?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did the Lyons premonition pertain to you and me specifically? Or to your family and my family in general?”

  “I don’t know. That’s what I need to find out.” It sounded like the truth because it was the truth. The thing I didn’t say was that I had no idea where to begin to get a glimpse at one of double-great-grandma’s premonitions. So I needed to start with something that I hoped would be easier—like the brooch. “I remember Momma said that premonitions are natural windows into the future. Some witches just get them, like Lenore did. But other witches without the gift of sight can unlock glimpses of the future through divination.”

  Bryn nodded.

  “You said you use a kind of tarot card reading, right? That’s how you knew to give Mercutio to me?”

  “Yes, cartomancy, but that won’t show any visions.”

  “I know, but what would?”

  “There are a lot of approaches, depending on your magic. Lampadomancy, radiesthesia, capnomancy—”

  “Hey, I didn’t go to wizard summer camp, remember? And Momma and Aunt Mel sure didn’t use all the formal names for stuff when they talked about magic.”

  “Maybe it’s time you did learn the terms. An informal education works for some things, but when there’s a vast amount of information, getting it in a haphazard way just makes it harder to understand and remember. I’ve offered to teach you anything you want, if you’ll—”

  “No. No strings that tie us together. Especially not before we know what that prophecy says.”

  “It’s a catch-22. You want my help to find out whether you can accept my help.”

  I huffed in frustration. “You were willing to share power. You break the rules well enough when it suits you.”

  Bryn smiled. “I can take power from you and use it because I’m allowed to use magic. I’m trained. Unlike you. It’s not legal—or wise, for that matter—for me to give you information or spells that you go off to use unsupervised. You, better than anyone, know how spells can go wrong.”

  Okay, he had a small point there. I’d only come into my magical power in the past two weeks, and, since then, when I tried to use it . . . mostly disaster. Though sometimes, when I really needed magic to work, it did. And the brooch made me feel compelled to try more spells.

  “L
ook, I’m curious about your ancestor’s list, too,” he said. “But if the premonition’s almost a hundred years old, I think it can wait until after we’ve dealt with the Conclave investigation,” Bryn said. “Also, it may have already happened and then we won’t be able to see it anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the gift of sight is always foresight. Once something happens, the energy that created the vision is expended, and the actual events become part of memory. The memories belong to the people who were part of the event. Memories aren’t accessible through divination.”

  “Well, if whatever’s supposed to happen already has happened, then I don’t care about it. It might have been your dad stealing my family’s locket. If so, there’s nothing wrong with me being friends with you now that that’s over.”

  “No matter what your great-great-grandmother saw all those years ago, it wouldn’t make sense to let it come between us. Magical synergy is incredibly rare, but we have it. There are witches who would kill for it, you know. It’s not something to be squandered. Think about what we’ve already done and the possibilities of what we could do—”

  “Stop! Don’t tempt me. I’m already tempted enough just looking—never mind. Listen, this synergy stuff, it’s not going to go away, is it?”

  He shook his head.

  “So if there’s an emergency, I will share power with you. But I won’t do it just for fun or as a precaution, because I don’t want to be low on power either. I might have to cast a spell in a hurry when you’re not around.”

  “To cast a spell that will probably go wrong, since yours often do. I can use the power to protect both of us.” When I didn’t respond, Bryn frowned. “You’re not being reasonable.”

  I tipped my head slightly so that some of my red hair shielded me from him. “Is being reasonable what I’m known for?” I asked.

  Bryn narrowed his eyes. “I don’t always agree with your logic, Tamara, but I can usually follow it.” He continued scrutinizing me. “What aren’t you telling me?”