Inside the great room of her sisters' home, Kaida slumped in her chair, exhausted. As in, her bones were melting and her muscles cried uncle. What a night. Her clothes were still damp from the meeting in the clearing because she'd conjured rain and the man she'd met in dreams sat on the plush brown leather sofa to her left, rubbing the mark on his wrist with a tissue for all he was worth. Utter insanity.Lord. She'd fainted. Actually fainted like a southern belle. If she weren't on the brink of a coma, she'd be embarrassed for the night's events.Tristan paced the far side of the room in front of the stained-glass window, his shoes silent on the hardwood floor. Riley stood beside the ginormous fireplace big enough for three men his size to fit inside, his hand braced on the carved mantle teeming with lit candles. Her sisters sat side-by-side on the matching sofa across from Brady, a black walnut table between him and them. An ornate decorative rug matching the burgundy walls lay
With her hand trembling, Kaida put her tea down on the table beside her. Brady's mood wasn't only unsettling to his brothers, but her, as well. Tonight may have been their first actual face-to-face encounter, yet she'd known him a very long time. He was quick to smile, very intelligent, and great at conversation. She'd witnessed his frustration at their circumstances, sometimes desperation, but never aggression. And, again, she seemed to be the underlying culprit."Let's see if we can't figure it out." Mara turned Brady's hand over, skimming her fingers over the mark on his inner wrist. "How did this happen?""Hell if I know." Brady's jaw ticked. "That's why we're here. For you to tell us.""I mean, what were you doing when the branding appeared?""Oh." He looked at Kaida, and all the rigidness in his frame dissolved. Emotion filled his eyes and the sentiment nailed her in the breastbone. "I touched her. Fiona dropped the shield and let me through. Kaida had just opened her eyes after
Brady followed his brothers to the door, having had his fill of magick and witch talk for the evening. Or a lifetime. But at the threshold, he couldn't make himself leave. That invisible magnet kept pulling him back to Kaida, and some inner fear he hadn't known existed made him worry he might not see her again.Turning, he flicked a glance at Ceara and Fiona, still perched on the sofa, then settled on Kaida. "Would you mind walking me out?"She offered a wan smile and rose. Grabbing a quilt off the back of her chair, she wrapped it around her shoulders and preceded him onto the porch.The humidity from earlier had weaned and a brisk spring breeze scented with brine slapped his face. A dense fog covered the dark grounds, as ominous as his mood. The roar of the ocean hitting the cliffs on the other side of the Galloways' house blended with the crackle of leaves. Otherwise, all was quiet.He shut the door behind them and faced his brothers. "Give us a minute." When they headed down the s
Brady made his way through the grand foyer and up the polished, winding marble staircase. Taking a hard right to the east wing, he headed for his suite at the end of the long, dark paneled hallway. Portraits of deceased family members stared at him on his trek, and he resisted the urge to shudder. Kicking the suite door shut, he strode straight past his four-poster sovereign bed to the matching honey walnut dresser and fished in a drawer for sleepwear. He stripped, tossing his damp clothes near the vicinity of the hamper in the adjoining bathroom, then stepped into a pair of blue-striped cotton pants. Barefoot, he padded back down the hallway, shoving his arms into a white tee. A runner took some of the chill out of the mahogany floorboards, but he longed for a fire.Knowing the few household staff they had on retainer would be asleep in their quarters, he took a shortcut through the kitchen to get to the west end of the mansion. Polished white cabinets and stainless steel appliance
Kaida spent most of the morning in her sisters' shop, watching them in reverent awe. Well, when Brady wasn't on her mind every three seconds, anyway. She'd always been relatively comfortable with people, could stand at a podium and lecture with ease, but her sisters had skills. Serious skills. They had divide and conquer down to an art form and could sell fleas to a dog.Like the other stores along the cobblestone strip on Puritan Street, the exterior was gray clapboard with burgundy shutters framing a large display window. One-story, there was a small awning over the front door. It was nestled between a cafe and a bookstore, to which got a lot of cross-traffic.Tourism season on the island had just begun, but even without it, Bedknobs & Broomsticks had its share of local customers. Townsfolk adored her sisters and seemed to pop in for everything from medicinal remedies to advice on love or life. People stayed to chat, drop off goodies, or dole gossip. It was...charming.The shop it
"To say the least." She stared at her partially eaten salad. "I thought I was crazy. The moment I turned sixteen, weird stuff started happening and..." She breathed a laugh. "Add the dreams into account, and let's just say I spent a lot of time alone. There was always a feeling, though. A sixth sense that something bigger was in motion, yet I couldn't put my finger on it." She dropped her chin in her hand. "I suppose that's what drew me to ancient religions and, ultimately, Wicca.""You're a professor? That's what you said, right?""Yes, at a college in Iowa. I'm on sabbatical. I teach two courses in the normal curriculum at the moment."He nodded. "Always wondered where you were from. Wondered a lot of things, actually. Did you know you were adopted? Have any other brothers or sisters?""No siblings, and yes, I knew. They didn't hide the adoption." Everything else had been kept a secret but, apparently, not making a point to cover up the fact she wasn't theirs was okay. Bitterness
Forehead resting on a stack of papers on his desk and phone to his ear, Brady listened to the foreman on the courthouse project prattle on. And on. When the guy finally pausedprobably for airBrady didn't bother lifting his head to speak into the receiver. "White. The crown molding is supposed to be white. Not ecru, not eggshell, not beige. White. That's what the plans say. All right?" He needed ten aspirin and another gallon of coffee. Stat. Though he'd gotten sporadic sleep last night, it wasn't the restful kind, and he was beginning to wonder if this wasn't National Piss Brady Off Day. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet. "I'll stop by after lunch if I can.""Sure thing, Mr. Meath. I'll have..."Brady sensed rather than heard another presence in his office and lost track of the conversation. The fine hairs on his neck stood erect and a slow burn churned in his gut.Kaida. She was here.He jerked his head up, and there she was, standing in front of his desk. Wearing tan leggings that
She hummed, an adorable sound she made when in agreement, but was too deep in thought to respond. After a beat, she turned and walked toward him, sitting sideways on the bench to face him. "Water is a lullaby for me. Unless I was dreaming, the closest I've been to an ocean is Lake Michigan, which looks remarkably like the Atlantic. I always intended to travel, but never got around to it. Well, until I arrived here, anyway. In dreams, the roaring sound and the waves drew me, a balm to my nerves. Restless and wild, it should've had the opposite effect. Instead, I was captivated. I suppose that makes sense, though, considering my element is water.""In total honesty, I've Googled the whole witchcraft thing for two nights straight, but I still don't have much of a grasp, nor do I know what's folklore versus fact." Mercy, he wanted to touch her again. Having her within inches of him was wreaking havoc on his control. "If I understand correctly, each witch gets power from an element?""M
One month later...Sandwiched between Brady and Riley on the couch in her sisters' living room, Kaida stared at the family grimoire on the coffee table, Celeste's box next to it. Sitting across from them on the other sofa was Tristan, Ceara, and Fiona, also quietly contemplating. Mara had claimed a chair, her mood uncharacteristically solemn.They'd had a lovely dinner and had decided to finish their wine by the fire to pow-wow. Yet no one had said much, if anything.This had been a big day for Kaida. She'd installed her first entry into the grimoire. Well, technically, it was Celeste's passage, but it was Kaida who'd added the parchment. Turned out, after all the trials, the box had contained only two things. A sapphire ring and a scroll containing part of a spell."Do you think I should say it aloud?" She looked to her sisters for guidance. Ceara shook her head. "I believe Fiona and I need to do our part first. Something tells me this is a power of three spell. It'll only work
Rising on his elbow, earning an oomph from Tristan under him, and pushing Riley over with a grunt, Brady lunged to his feet. Stumbling in his haste, he crawled the rest of the way and cupped her face. Her eyes were closed, lashes shadowing her cheeks. She was so still, so quiet, another sob ripped from his chest."Kaida?" Nothing. "Kaida, sweetheart. Please, God." A deep inhale expanded her chest, and her lids lifted. Her eyes darted everywhere at once before blessedly landing on him. "What happened?"He barked a laugh/moan combination, not believing what he was seeing.And for the thousandth time today, his lungs stalled. Relief flooded him in a harried whoosh. With shaking arms, he hauled her sideways onto his lap. Pressing her face into his shoulder, he held her so tight a spell couldn't wedge between them.He kissed the top of her head, rocking, rocking. "Don't you ever do that to me again." As it stood, he may not allow her to leave his sight until she was eighty. Or never.
As the blade sank into Kaida's stomach, her face froze in a terrifying expression of shock and pain that yanked the heart right out of Brady's chest. But when his uncle withdrew the dagger, the oxygen punched from Brady's lungs with such force, he couldn't so much as cry out. A crimson ribbon flung through the air and splattered onto the grass. And Brady's whole world, his existence, shattered into a thousand fragmented pieces."Nooooo!" He frantically crawled over to her, roaring her name until his throat was as ravaged as his soul.He had the briefest concept of his uncle lunging to his feet and sprinting toward the hedge wall before Kaida collapsed in Brady's arms. Carefully as he could manage, he laid her on the grass and quickly untied the rope from her wrists. Angry red burns marred her perfect skin. A swift assessment showed a deep, open gash on her jaw and another above her eyebrow, both actively bleeding. But it was the hole in her stomach gushing uncontrollably that had
Keeping the blade on Kaida, he moved to her side and stuck his finger in his mouth, scraping the crest ring off with his teeth. Gone was the short, neatly trimmed hair and slender body. In its place was a solidly built man with longish white strands that brushed his shoulders. He shoved the ring in his pocket. "What's it been, witch? Three-hundred years? Give or take."Breath whooshed from Kaida's lips. "It's you." The guy from the hotel room when she and Brady had astral-projected together. She'd assumed it had been a nightmare or the man had been another hunter after them. What the heck was going on? "You tried to strangle me."Satisfaction lit his bitter gaze. "Should've finished the job.""This isn't possible," Mara gasped, eyes bugging. "It's simply not possible."A quick scan of the other dazed expressions proved her sisters and the brothers were just as blown away as Kaida by Greg's transformation. Who the hell was this guy and how did he possess the power to shift? Far as s
Slumped against the cottage near the meadow, legs sprawled in the grass in front of her, Kaida pried her eyes open for the second time. The stone exterior dug into her spine and a smarting jab in her ribs made breathing a chore, but she was alive. Somehow.One moment she was heading toward a vendor to fetch a bottle of water, the next she was being dragged between storefronts into an alley. A pinching prick in her neck had followed, and her world had gone black. She'd awoken in her current predicament.Whatever Greg Meath had injected into her was dulling her power. A sedative, no doubt. After taking stock, and confused out of her gourd, she'd slipped back into unconsciousness in order to project to Brady. Which had zapped what little strength remained. It had also required her to remove her pentagram necklace, leaving her unprotected from attack.And that was the other thing. Not that she was complaining, but why wasn't she dead? Greg had ample opportunity to kill her, including wh
Ceara swiftly pulled a scroll off a cube shelf and unrolled it on the table to reveal a map of the island. She placed four white crystals on the corners and then dangled another blue crystal by a chain over the map.Kaida was missing, his mark was issuing a warning knell, and Ceara wanted to play with toys?"We have to go find her!" Impatience pounded his temples like a snare drum and he ground his teeth. Worry ate at his stomach lining. "She's in trouble.""That's what I'm doing. Give me a sec to do a locator spell." Ceara closed her eyes and chanted while Brady paced the checkered pattern off the linoleum. The crystal swung in a circle several times and stopped abruptly on the paper. "There. She's at our house. Somewhere on the western side of the property."Done. He pivoted for the doorway. Rigidity locked him in place.Kaida stood by the curtain, iridescent as a hologram. Rope banded her wrists. A gag was shoved in her mouth and tied around her head. Tears left trails on her d
Alongside Fiona and Ceara, Brady strode through the darkened forest on the way to the sisters' house, his mind constantly banging the chaos button. According to Riley, Kaida had finished the journals and hadn't acted like herself when he'd taken her home. Which was freaking Brady out to the point of no return.An hour ago, Ceara had done her spell juju and put the passages Kaida had read directly into their brains. The sisters now knew more than the gist of what he and his brothers had gone through. Reliving some of those memories through his uncle's eyes had clicked a lot of pieces in place. The man had never loved them. He'd viewed them as nothing more than another part of the grand puzzle, and he'd done everything in his power to manipulate the picture.Again, Brady couldn't slap the label of abuse on the situation. Yes, he'd been whipped a time or two, had been sent to his quarters without a meal as punishment, and had been belittled to prove a fanatical point. But in Uncle Greg'
Her pulse kicked rhythm. "The first four journals are from Minister Meath and were penned in quill ink. The succession goes on down your family tree. When a different member takes over the dagger, about every fifty years, the name gets entered at the beginning of the passage. There's dates to confirm, and I matched them to your line. Now, the newer ones use both sides of the paper and change to ballpoint, acclimating to modernization. The verbiage adapts for the times, too, as do descriptions. Yet there are a lot of similarities."He straightened and crossed his arms. "What are you getting at?""For starters, there's two Bible verses that are repeated throughout all the books. Coincidence? Probably. However, certain words like "heathen" and "sorcery" are frequented. Pretty outdated terms. So are specific insults. Could also be a coincidence.""But when you compare them with the handwriting, it adds up to more." He nodded, his gaze distant. "What's the connection?""I don't know. Ob
In the Meath library, Kaida closed the last journal and stared at it on the table. All week she'd been reading through the passages, and it had been harder than she'd anticipated. She'd attempted to look at them with a professional, objective eye, tried to distance herself from the human element and view them as research, but that was impossible.Her family's past and the Meaths were intertwined in ways that read like a darker, more horrid version of Grimm's Fairy Tales. From the first entry a week after Celeste Galloway's death to pivotal moments spanning three-hundred years, it was heart-breaking and gutting to receive first-hand accounts, especially considering the point-of-view. Righteous indignation. Bloodbaths. Hatred at its very core.If not for Brady erecting a pillar of strength, she probably wouldn't have been able to continue. He'd held her every night, soothed her tears, and never once showed the anger he had to have built inside over learning details about the entries.