Halfway Hexed Read online

  At Bryn’s gate, I pressed the security buzzer. After a bit of hesitation, Steve’s familiar voice filled the air.

  “It’s Tammy Jo. Let me in?”

  “Sure. I’ll meet you at the front door,” he said.

  The gate opened, and I drove up the fancy paved stone circle drive and parked. I got my suitcase out, but left the brooch locked inside the trunk. Somehow I didn’t think it would be good to bring it into Bryn’s, where security cameras recorded everything that went on except for in the bedrooms.

  “A suitcase?” Steve asked, running a hand over his brush cut.

  “Yeah, think he’ll mind?”

  “No, but we’d better ask him.”

  “Well, I’ll put it here until he wakes up,” I said, rolling it to the corner of the foyer.

  “He’s up.”

  “Already?”

  “He’s on the back lawn.”

  “The back . . .” I glanced at Mercutio. “Where’s his dog, Angus?” Bryn’s Rottweiler and Merc got along like—well, like cats and dogs.

  “Gone. Lennox came by yesterday and took him.”

  “Oh, Bryn’s dad is back. Isn’t that—” Too bad. “Nice.”

  “Yeah, I can tell you’re thrilled,” he said with a grin. “Look, I’ve got to go back to the monitors. You’ll wait here until he comes in?”

  “Sure, I’ve got an important letter to read,” I said, sitting on the settee.

  Steve went back down the hall, and I opened the envelope. The letter was on thick stationery with filigree cutouts along the top. Super delicate. Ivory paper with black ink. Also inside the envelope, there were two thick strands of black satin ribbon.

  Dear darling,

  I’m so sorry we haven’t called! So much time passed without our realizing it. Things are very different in the N.

  “The N? The Never? Slang for faeryland, I think,” I said to Merc, who was licking his paws.

  We’re both doing well. Marlee found the one she was looking for. Not everyone is happy about that, but he is. Unfortunately, his kind are very possessive, and if he and Marlee want to be together, they have to prove their devotion. The one who lords over everyone—we’ll call her the Queen Bee—insists that Marlee stay there.

  I want her to come home, but she’s determined to stay with him—at least for now.

  Meanwhile, I did manage to get out of there. Thankfully! I have a few things to do in the UK before I can come home. I’ve sent some packages. Look for them and keep them safe.

  Edie tells me that you’ve been having some adventures. She says you’ve entered into a new phase in your life and that you’re doing brilliantly, especially considering that there’s no one from the family to help you. (Please don’t turn to anyone that you shouldn’t for advice. You know better!) I promise I’ll be home as soon as I can. Or you could come here. I would love for you to! I miss you. If not, if you can spare Edie, would you send me the locket? I really need her to be at her strongest and having the locket close would be best. Bind the locket with the special satin ribbons to cushion its journey. I’ve said a prayer for it to get here safely. If you want to say a little prayer as well, the kind that binds, that would be good, too.

  Send it to me at the Savoy hotel in London.

  That’s all for now. We love you! Stay out of trouble!

  Aunt Mel

  I reread the letter, so happy to have proof that she was okay. She hadn’t mentioned the brooch, but there was the “keep them safe” line about the stuff she was sending. Maybe I was just supposed to hold on to the brooch for Aunt Mel, and she’d take care of it when she got back to America. But what if she didn’t get back in time? I really needed more information about what she wanted me to do.

  At least she’d sent the satin ribbons that she’d cast a spell on. Her binding to keep Edie in the locket would probably work, even if my spell was useless. I smiled at her use of the word prayer instead of spell. Smart and careful. Who knew if the mail would fall into the wrong hands. DeeDAW hands. Boy was Aunt Mel going to be mad when she heard about them.

  “Well, that’s it for now,” I said to Merc, putting the letter and ribbons in the envelope and slipping it into the pocket of my suitcase. “Momma’s shacked up with a faery. Aunt Mel’s trying to rebuild her magic. Edie’s going airmail to England. And we’re staying here to face the Conclave.” I blew a strand of hair out of my eyes. “You think I should have let her or Edie know about the Conclave or Scarface or DeeDAW?”

  Merc purred.

  “But if most of her power was depleted from visiting Faeryland, she wouldn’t be able to help much, right? So she’d rush home before she was ready, only to end up in danger along with me. I think it would be better to let her come home when she’s ready, when she’s built up her power again. I think Bryn and I can handle things here. Look at all that we’ve done over the past couple weeks. Although, he did lose a lot of his power during that Death spell a few days ago.” I sighed. “Maybe I should ask him what he thinks about telling Aunt Mel.”

  I strode to the kitchen and out the back door. It was near dawn, and most of the outdoor floodlights had gone off. I walked diagonally toward the water, figuring I’d bump into Bryn somewhere along the way.

  A pulse of white light blinded me. I tossed an arm over my eyes and Merc yowled.

  “What the heck was that?”

  Chapter 9

  I lowered my arm carefully. In the distance, I could see tiny needles of bright light coming from the sky. I followed the lines of illumination down with my eyes and hurried toward them.

  Bryn was standing shirtless on the lawn with his arms outstretched to the sides, his head tipped back so his face was turned up to the sky. The beams of light pierced his forearms. As I drew closer, I could hear that he was murmuring in a foreign language.

  I paused, not wanting to disturb whatever spell he was casting. I heard Merc’s breathing get faster, then he made a high-pitched sound and darted away.

  What? I looked over my shoulder, trying to see where he’d gone, then I felt sharp pain in my shoulders. I whipped my head back and saw that two beams of light had bent from Bryn’s arms and were striking me. I dropped to my knees, but the slicing beams followed.

  “Ow!” I yelled. “What are you doing?”

  He went on with his incantation. I leapt to my feet and raced toward him, the searing pain becoming unbearable.

  He stopped speaking and the lights disappeared, but not soon enough for me to stop. Momentum made me crash into him. We landed hard. Him on his back. Me sprawled half on top of him, half on the dewy grass.

  I checked my shoulders, surprised that blood wasn’t coursing down them from gaping wounds. On my shirt, there were a couple dots of blood, about a centimeter in diameter, but nothing more. I jerked the fabric down to expose my left shoulder. It was too dark to see, but it looked like there was only a tiny puncture.

  “Good morning, Tamara,” Bryn said mildly.

  I slugged his left ribs. “What was that?” His power crawled over my skin like scorpion stings. It wasn’t the way his magic usually felt. I rubbed my arms, trying to make the sensation go away.

  Bryn turned his head to look at me, and his eyes were wrong, too. They were usually bright blue-violet, as if light were being refracted off them like the facets of a jewel. But now his eyes were blue-gray, like storm clouds, and opalescent. Still beautiful, but unfamiliar and kind of disturbing.

  “What have you done?” I whispered, unable to keep the disapproval out of my voice. I sat up and scooted back. The stings dampened, and I continued rubbing my arms. He didn’t answer.

  I glanced at the horizon as the sun rose. The golden orange light framed him as he stood, but didn’t gild him. It was as though the sunlight folded around him, leaving several inches of darkness as a barrier.

  “Bryn?”

  “You weren’t willing to be part of the normal power spells I could’ve cast.” He shrugged and then turned toward the house.

  “What
do you mean?” I said, jumping up. I followed him, leaving several feet between us.

  “This was not the optimal time to draw power from the heavens, but it had to be done.”

  “You used black magic?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “You shouldn’t have done that!”

  He turned his head slowly and cocked an eyebrow. “I appreciate you sharing your vast wisdom and experience with me.”

  I could feel that he wasn’t himself, but his sarcasm still made me flinch. “I may not have a lot of experience, but I can certainly feel how wrong this is. Magic that pricks and stings? Bad idea!”

  “There wasn’t a better choice. If I hadn’t done it, when they arrived I’d be like an unarmed soldier behind enemy lines.”

  “I wish you’d have explained more.”

  “I wish you trusted me.” He strode to the kitchen’s back door and went inside.

  “Black magic, for the love of Hershey. I can’t leave him alone for one minute,” I murmured.

  When I got inside Bryn was rinsing his arms under cold water. There were dozens of tiny puncture wounds in the middle of his forearms, and the skin was raised and red around them, like burns.

  “Are those constellations?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You pricked your skin? Made a tattoo for the stars to send down their light?”

  He nodded.

  “Did it hurt?”

  “Not as much as drawing power with bright magic does. Black magic is less painful. That’s why a lot of people turn to it when they need to draw more than they should.”

  “But it feels wrong, doesn’t it? After it’s inside you?”

  “It feels different,” he said, turning off the water.

  “It feels wrong,” I repeated firmly.

  He moved so that he stood in front of me, his hands on the counter on either side of me. The magic didn’t sting as much as it had at first. It was more like fingernails trailing along my skin, hard enough to leave a mark.

  “Well, let’s hope that I’m never on the brink of death again and forced to sacrifice all the magic that feels right to you,” he said.

  Bryn had gotten poisoned saving my life. “I’m sorry about that,” I said.

  “I’m not. It was worth it.”

  Even under the influence of black magic, his charm was as seductive as ever.

  I slipped my arms around his neck and hugged him. The magic wrapped around us, thick and heavy. It was hard to breathe at first, but then I got used to the feeling. I had some vague idea that I could fixthings without really knowing how. It was instinctive, like everything bet ween Bryn and me.

  “Tamara—” His voice was low and smooth. “Be careful.”

  I ignored the warning. Instead, I pressed my lips to his collarbone and drew the darkness, like smoke into my lungs. It was damp and cold and made me cough.

  He snaked a hand up to my hair and drew my head back. Then he kissed me, and it consumed us, pushing the natural world away. I tried to draw the magic out of him, but he didn’t let me. Not even a sliver.

  A terrible pain in my leg finally made me jerk back. I looked down at the bloody scratch where Mercutio’s claw had torn my jeans.

  “Merc!” I snapped.

  Bryn glanced down and spoke to Mercutio in Gaelic.

  “What did you say?” I asked, taking a damp washcloth to clean the scratch.

  “That’s between him and me.”

  Merc licked my leg and rubbed his head against my arm. I petted him. “I don’t think Merc cares for black magic.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  The wall phone rang, and Bryn strolled over to it. He stared at me as he answered it.

  “What’s up?” He listened for a few moments and then said, “Sure, let her through.”

  “Jenna Reitgarten?” I asked.

  “No.”

  Bryn retrieved a white button-down shirt from the seat of a chair. He slipped it on and began buttoning as I followed him to the foyer. He glanced at my suitcase.

  “You pick now to move in?”

  “People are trying to kidnap me.”

  “Can’t really blame them for that,” he said with a sexy smirk. “I’ve had the same temptation myself.”

  “Very funny.”

  His blue-gray eyes darkened, making me realize that he wasn’t totally kidding.

  I gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

  “No, I wouldn’t.” He studied me intently. “I don’t like waiting for you to turn up. But you are always worth the wait.”

  I blushed, having to bite my tongue to keep from kissing him with it. “Um, that’s enough flirting.”

  “You’re right. No point starting something when someone’s going to interrupt us. I’ll put your suitcase upstairs in my room. We can finish this conversation later.”

  He reached for the handle, but I scowled at him and grabbed it, rolling it out of his reach. “I’ll stay in the downstairs guest room!”

  “Better to sleep under the stars,” he countered. “With me.”

  Magic and lust and all kinds of other dangerous energy undulated from his body to mine, curling around me like smoke, warming me to the core. For several long moments, I stared at him, trapped by what I wanted to do, but knew I shouldn’t.

  I sucked in a cool breath. “Cut that out. That’s not fair.” I shuddered, pulling back from the brink of launching myself into his arms. I narrowed my eyes. “You see,” I said, snapping my fingers. “You see what happens when you get buzzed on black magic?”

  “Yes, I see,” he said, still smiling.

  I rushed to the downstairs bedroom that I’d slept in a couple times before when I’d been too wounded, poisoned, or exhausted to make it home. Boy, Bryn and I had a strange relationship.

  I heard the doorbell and threw my suitcase into the room and shut the door. Then I hurried back down the hall, stopping at the end, in a spot where I wouldn’t be easily seen.

  Bryn opened the door, and there was a young woman in a tailored navy blue suit standing on the threshold. Caramel-colored hair and peaches-and-cream skin. She had the kind of fresh, pretty face you’d see in a soap ad, but the clothes were all business. I waited for her to introduce herself, but instead Bryn spoke.

  “Hello, Gwen. You know, I didn’t think you could possibly be as beautiful as I remembered, but it turns out you are.”

  I froze, a horrible knot of jealousy twisting inside me.

  She smiled a lovely supermodel smile at him. “Hello, Bryn,” she said in a perfect British accent. She studied his face for a moment and then touched her thumb to his lid just under his left eye. She clucked her tongue. “That color’s different. What wicked things have you been up to?”

  I wanted to scratch her eyes out.

  He ignored her question, asking instead, “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m here for the investigation.”

  His eyes widened for a moment in surprise. “You’re here to investigate me,” he said and frowned. “You’re part of Barrett’s entourage?”

  “I’m training under the Winterhawk. I’m here as a Conclave junior operative.”

  “Congratulations.” The chill in his voice made her blush, and I shifted uncomfortably.

  “For heaven’s sake, you mustn’t take this personally,” she said.

  “Since you’re here officially, I should introduce you,” he said, calmly turning toward me. He waved, and I stepped out from around the corner.

  Gwen’s perfectly arched brows rose, and her hand fell away from his face. “Well, it seems it’s my turn to be surprised. The notorious Miss Trask, I presume. She ought not to be here, Bryn. Badly done,” she said, but she held out her hand to me.

  A part of me wanted to sock her, but good manners left me no choice but to shake her perfectly manicured hand.

  “You’ve got quite a good grip,” she said.

  “If you pushed power into her palm and are surprised that she didn’t pull back or f
linch, it’s because she didn’t feel it,” Bryn said. He was right. Bryn’s was the only magic I ever felt. I was tempted to tell her all about our magical synergy, but I managed to hold my tongue.

  “Didn’t feel it,” Gwen echoed. “We had heard there was an impairment. I wasn’t sure how accurate the account was.” She gave me an appraising look. “The hair’s every bit as red as reported. So unlucky, that.”

  I fumed.

  “Depends on where one’s from. Red hair isn’t considered the thing in England, but in Ireland there’s nothing luckier.”

  I heard the trace of his Irish accent when he spoke, and I guessed she did, too, because she pursed her lips into a tight white line. The corners of my mouth turned up in a small smile.

  “Well, if she’s such a lucky charm, you won’t need any advice from me.” She turned on her heel and with crisp steps and military posture walked to a silver Jaguar that was parked in the drive.

  Bryn sighed and watched her drive to the gate before he closed the door.

  I folded my arms across my chest. “She’s an ex-girlfriend?”

  He nodded.

  “And now part of the Conclave,” I said.

  “She’s only the second woman ever inducted.”

  “So she’s a powerful witch?”

  He nodded.

  “More powerful than you?”

  “No.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “Yes, why do you ask?”

  “Because didn’t you say that John Barrett’s petitioned to have your wizard class raised above four? So they can prosecute you differently for any rules you break?”

  He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Christ,” he mumbled.

  “Yeah,” I said softly. “When you’ve got secrets, the only thing more dangerous than a whole mess of tequila shots is pillow talk.”

  Chapter 10

  I took the locket from around my neck with trembling fingers. I’d been its guardian for months, and I didn’t want to part with it—with Edie.