Witch Myth Super Boxset Page 14

  “It seemed only fair.”

  “Fair?” I burst out, incredulous. Dominic had reappeared in the doorway, having pushed his way through the crowd of officers outside the interrogation room. “Revenge isn’t fair. It’s barbaric. And from what I hear, you beat the crap out of Teagan while she was still alive. Why the hell should I believe that she killed you?”

  “Because it’s true,” Ronan said with a nonchalant shrug of his massive shoulders. “I never hurt her. She was accident prone and bruised easily, but I guess she needed a convincing reason to trick the police into thinking she was innocent.”

  Something in Ronan’s casual tone of voice made me doubt his side of the story. At this point, though, I wasn’t sure whom to believe. We only had Teagan’s word against Ronan’s, and I didn’t know either of them well enough to formulate a theory about the case.

  “Look, Ronan, I understand why you’re upset,” I began, waving Dominic off as he crept up behind me.

  “You don’t understand anything,” the ghost said. His eyes tracked Dominic’s every movement.

  “Morgan, we should get you out of here,” Dominic muttered in my ear. “There’s nothing stopping him from injuring you next. We should figure out a way to detain him and regroup.”

  “Listen to your boyfriend, Summers,” Ronan said with a cold laugh. “Mind your own business, and you won’t get hurt. Good luck with my detainment, though. I doubt there’s a pair of handcuffs that would work on me.”

  “Teagan is my business,” I declared. I pushed Dominic toward the door, hoping he would get the hint. I had the advantage of being able to see Ronan should he make a move, but Dominic was basically blind in this situation. If anything, I was the least likely out of everyone to get injured in this situation.

  Ronan hurdled the table to stand inches from my face. I took a step back, bumping into Dominic, who held his ground. With my back against Dominic’s chest and Ronan’s face so close to my own, I felt a claustrophobic surge of panic. Dominic’s hands settled on my shoulders, as if he planned to pick me up, just as he had with Teagan, and evacuate me from the room as soon as the situation called for it.

  “Teagan’s my wife, not yours,” Ronan said. He jabbed a finger into my chest, hard enough to leave a bruise, as if to prove that he could touch me as well. The contact sent a jolt of fear and anger through me, and I shook Dominic off to confront Ronan.

  “Until death do you part,” I said back, refusing to let my expression betray the tumble of emotions inside me. I balled my hands into fists to keep them from trembling. “I hate to break it to you, Ronan, but you’re dead. You’re parted. Get over it, and move on.”

  In a flash, Ronan swept one muscled arm across the surface of the interrogation table, sending the spot lamp crashing to the floor. As the light bulb shattered against the upset file cabinet, Ronan disappeared. Behind me, the officers broke out in babbling conversation. Most of them had never seen a ghost in action before. I wondered how strange it must be to watch file cabinets overturn themselves and light bulbs explode for no reason. Even more, I wondered how demented I had appeared to my coworkers whilst furiously arguing with someone invisible to them. I turned to Dominic, who had remained stalwart and steady throughout the incident despite his inability to predict Ronan’s next move.

  “Where’s Teagan?” I asked him, trying to slow my breathing.

  “I took her to the holding cell,” Dominic said. “She’s not pleased. What now?”

  I thought about it for a second. Teagan’s safety was my first priority, at least until we could figure out if Ronan’s accusation had any merit to it or not.

  “I need to call my mother,” I said.

  Dominic looked confused. “I’m sorry. What?”

  Twenty minutes later, I met my mother and sisters outside Teagan’s room at the inn. Dominic stood at the door with his arms crossed, looking more like a bodyguard than a detective. As my family approached, he watched them warily. They were an eclectic foursome, so I could understand his trepidation, but I was more worried about Ronan’s next attempt on Teagan’s life than what Detective Dobbes thought of my strange family. However, I was a little surprised to see Gwenlyn emerge from behind Laurel’s tall figure. Why my mother had decided to bring her along wasn’t exactly a mystery. She was a medium in need of practice, and I had a rebellious ghost on my hands. Still, I disapproved of putting an unknowing teenager in the path of a vindictive spirit.

  “Why did you bring her?” I demanded of my mother. Gwenlyn’s face fell as the words left my mouth. “It’s not you, Gwenlyn,” I added hastily. “But this is dangerous stuff. My mother shouldn’t have involved you.”

  “She can handle it,” my mother said, reaching up to pat Gwenlyn’s shoulder. “I thought this could be a learning experience.”

  “Mom, this isn’t some kind of elementary school field trip,” I said in a low voice, trying hard to not offend Gwenlyn. “This guy is not joking around. He wants to kill Teagan, and he won’t let anyone stop him.”

  Gwenlyn stepped in front of Cassandra. “I can handle myself.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” I said. “It’s just that—”

  Dominic cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ladies, I don’t mean to interrupt,” he said as he leaned over my shoulder. I felt his breath tickle my ear. “But we should probably get started. We wouldn’t want Ronan to get another chance at Teagan before we can pull this off.”

  I’d enlisted my mother and sisters to spell Teagan’s room. The Summerses were now experts at protection wards, having had to use them more often since I returned to town the previous autumn. Unfortunately, we couldn’t protect Teagan twenty-four, seven, so she would be under a quasi house arrest until we managed to figure out how to get Ronan to move on.

  “And you are?” Cassandra asked Dominic.

  “Detective Dominic Dobbes, ma’am.” He shook my mother’s hand with a little bow. “I’m working with Morgan on this case.”

  My mother, her hand still in Dominic’s, shifted her gaze toward me, one eyebrow inclined. I could practically see the gears turning in her head. She already thought well of Dominic. It was hard not to, what with his handsome cordiality, but my mother’s approval was the last thing on my mind.

  “Dom’s right,” I said, strategically stepping between my mother and Dominic so that she was forced to drop his hand. “We need to do this now.”

  I opened the door to Teagan’s room. She sat at the desk, her gaze trained on the television screen. It was playing a series of infomercials, advertising some kind of shoe organizer for the closet, but Teagan’s eyes had glazed over as though she wasn’t really watching. She glanced up as we all filed into her room.

  “Teagan, this is Cassandra, Laurel, Malia, Karma, and Gwenlyn,” I said, pointing to each corresponding head in turn. “Everyone, this is Teagan.”

  “Nice to meet you all,” Teagan said as she rose from the desk. “Am I in the way?”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s a pretty simple spell. It just takes a while to get it set up.”

  Cassandra waved a hand, instructing my three sisters to each corner of the room. She passed by Teagan on the way to the fourth corner and took the young woman’s hand in her own.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, dear,” my mother said. Teagan’s breath hitched, and it occurred to me that I had never said anything similar to Teagan. She and her husband may not have been on the best of terms, but she had still lost someone close to her. Apparently, I needed to work on my bedside manner.

  As my mother and sisters began setting up the protection ward, I felt the familiar tickle of working witchcraft at the back of my neck. It must’ve translated to the mortals in the room, because Teagan retreated to sit in the kitchenette and Dominic returned to his guard post outside the door. Gwenlyn, however, looked on in earnest interest. My mother sprinkled a black grainy substance around the perimeter of the room.

  “What’s she doing?” Gwenlyn asked me.

  “It’s black salt,�
� I said, pulling Gwenlyn away from the wall as my mother continued her path around the room. “A mixture of yew ash and sea salt. It helps set the ward.”

  “Oh.”

  As soon as the black-salt border was complete, the room fell suddenly quiet, as if it had sealed itself off from the outside world. I couldn’t hear the cars passing by outside anymore, or Dominic’s pacing footsteps beyond the door. It was a good sign. It meant that the protection ward would hold well in Teagan’s room. In tandem, my mother and sisters began to draw symbols in the air. Craft appeared at the end of their fingers, like miniature fireworks, a different color to match each witch’s independent aura. Teagan watched in awe, following the movement of Laurel’s golden craft, which was closest to her.

  “Why aren’t you helping?” Gwenlyn asked me. She leaned against the wall, careful not to step in the line of black salt.

  “I’m out of practice,” I admitted, watching as Laurel’s craft joined with Karma’s lilac essence. For several years, the only kinds of witchcraft I had used were related to my abilities as a medium. Other than that, I had abandoned the practice of rituals and spells. It occurred to me that I should probably brush up on the other aspects of my magic. It seemed that, more and more often, a comprehensive knowledge of my family’s power would come in handy during my time with Yew Hollow’s police force. “Protection wards aren’t really my thing anyway. I can work wonders with a Ouija board, though.”

  “Cassandra told me you conjured a protection ward so big that you saved the entire town last fall,” she said. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that she had turned to face me, rather than observing the magic around her.

  “That was a fluke,” I said, crossing my arms. “I channeled that ward through the yew tree. That huge one in the town square? I wouldn’t have been able to do that without the yew tree’s help.”

  “How can a tree channel power?”

  I shrugged. Explaining how witchcraft worked had never been my forte. I hardly understood it myself. It was far from an exact science. So much of it depended on the witch’s own personality, interpretation of symbols, the objects a witch chose to channel her craft through, and a myriad of other things.

  “Nature is one of the strongest powers out there,” I said. “Yew trees especially have a lot of impact on our craft, particularly in this town. They’re said to afford us protection and everlasting life.”

  “Do you believe in that?”

  “Well, I’ve only been back here for about six months, and I’ve already seen enough death to last me a lifetime,” I said. A whirlwind of purple, blue, and gold craft breezed by my face, sweeping my hair away from my neck. Beside me, Gwenlyn swayed and took a deep breath, as if she could inhale the soothing effects of the protection ward.

  With everyone distracted, I glanced over at Teagan. She too seemed enthralled by the magic in the room, watching wide eyed as my family’s craft spread through the room like a spider’s web. I nudged Gwenlyn. An idea had popped into my head.

  “Would you be willing to do something for me?” I asked her.

  “What kind of something?”

  I nodded toward Teagan. “Could you keep an eye on her? I know we’re spelling the room, but if she needs to go out anywhere, would you go with her? You’re the only other medium in town, so you’d be the only person who could warn me if Ronan tries again.”

  She pondered the task for a few seconds, tapping her fingers restlessly against the wall behind her. “Yeah, I guess. I thought you said Ronan was dangerous, though?”

  “He only attacked Teagan when he thought she was alone,” I said, remembering that Ronan had waited until Dominic and I had left the interrogation room before attempting to upend the filing cabinet. “It would be a good way for you to practice the whole medium thing. Plus, if you’re there, it might stop Ronan from doing something stupid.”

  Gwenlyn nodded. “Okay.”

  “I appreciate it. Just—be careful, okay? Call me if you see him anywhere at all.”

  Another nod. Then Laurel joined us, taking Gwenlyn’s hands and positioning them in the basic stance for a protection ward. A glimmer of forest-green craft appeared at the tips of Gwenlyn’s fingers. As Laurel instructed Gwenlyn on how to add her own power to the ward, I slipped out of Teagan’s room and into the hallway.

  “You all right?” Dominic asked, watching as I leaned against the wall and took a deep breath.

  “Yeah, just tired. Do you ever feel like you can never catch a break?”

  “All the time,” he said. He set a reassuring hand on my shoulder, smiling. “Don’t worry, though. You have backup. How’s it going in there?”

  “They’re almost done,” I said. My first instinct was to shake Dominic’s hand from my shoulder, but I held back. Strangely, I found it comforting, as if my stress dissipated through the point of contact. In the short amount of time that I’d known him, Dominic had already proved his worth, from finding the wedding ring to getting Teagan out of harm’s way at the police station. His quick thinking and initiative was admirable. As I looked up at him, he smiled again.

  “What would you say to relaxing a little bit tonight?” he asked, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Would you like to have dinner?”

  “I don’t know, Dom,” I said. “We should really be working on the case.”

  “How about if we talk about the case over dinner?” he proposed. He propped a hand against the wall behind my head, towering over me like a human shield. “It’ll give me a chance to get to know you better. The town, too. You can show me around, if you like.”

  It couldn’t hurt to spend a few more hours with Dominic, especially if he wanted to learn more about Yew Hollow. Plus, I had to admit that he was growing on me.

  “Around seven?” I asked.

  Yet another smile blossomed across his face. “Sounds good. And Morgan?”

  “Hm?”

  “I like when you call me Dom.”

  Later that evening, Dominic showed up at the barn ten minutes early. Thankfully, I’d always been too punctual for my own good. I had already showered and dressed, but when I heard the knock at the barn’s sliding door, my stomach turned over in unexpected anxiety. I hurried down the loft steps to let Dominic in, wondering why my nerves had kicked in all of a sudden. It was a work date, nothing more.

  As I pulled open the door, I was glad to see that Dominic had kept it casual. He wore tan tailored shorts and a blue fitted T-shirt that brought out the color of his eyes.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Hi. You look nice.”

  I’d picked out a flowy white top and a pair of light-blue jeans. It seemed fitting for a spring evening in Yew Hollow.

  “Thanks. Let me just grab my things.”

  I stepped back so that Dominic could come in. As I gathered my keys and a sweater, Dom looked around the loft.

  “Great place. Who did the redesign?”

  “The coven, actually,” I said. “It’s amazing how fast you can renovate a place when your carpenters are all magicians.”

  He shook his head in amused disbelief. “That’s amazing. I wish I had the same perks.”

  “Why, do you have an apartment that needs renovating?” I asked then added jokingly, “Feel free to hire the Summers Construction Company.”

  “I think the Summerses have quite enough on their hands at the moment,” he said. His eyes twinkled as he smiled. “All set?”

  I nodded, letting Dominic usher me through the door. Outside, a large picnic basket rested in the grass, which Dominic shouldered as we headed through the woods toward town.

  “What’s in the basket?” I asked, focusing on my feet. The path from my loft was rough and uneven, and I was determined not to trip over any tree roots.

  “Dinner,” he said, using his free hand to guide me across the bumpy ground. “I hope you like chicken. You’re not a vegetarian, are you? I forgot to ask.”

  “No, I’m a carnivore. You cooked?”

  H
e grinned down at me. “You seem surprised.”

  “I am, actually.”

  “I figured we could picnic under the yew tree,” he said. “You keep mentioning it, and I haven’t had the chance to check it out yet. That okay with you?”

  I decided not to tell him that the space beneath the yew tree held some pretty terrifying memories for me. I hadn’t really been around the tree since the events of last fall. It was time to confront that, and Dom had presented me with the opportunity. I nodded.

  Our walk out to the yew tree was rather quiet. Dominic kept most of the conversation going, asking about what it was like to grow up in Yew Hollow and what it was like to be a part of the Summers coven. It was hard to fill him in on my life, considering so much of it had happened outside the Hollow. When we reached the yew tree, he extracted a large blanket from the picnic basket and spread it out beneath the tree.

  “Your table, ma’am,” he said. I laughed, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the blanket. The tree shaded us from the sun, its beams stretching horizontally across the town as it moved toward the horizon. As a breeze drifted through, ruffling Dominic’s hair, he began to set up the meal he had made. Then he poured me a glass of white wine.

  “Should we toast?” he asked.

  I tapped my glass against his. “To solving this damn case.”

  Dominic nodded in appreciation and took a sip of his wine.

  As we dug into the meal, I found the conversation veering away from the Riley case. Though I knew that we should be focusing on what to do about Teagan and Ronan, it was refreshing to talk about normal things. Dominic had a great sense of humor. As he imitated the gruff voice of his old police chief in Brooklyn during one hilarious anecdote, I nearly forgot that we were there to work on a case. We polished off the wine, getting sillier with every sip.

  “So, tell me about this tree,” Dominic said, affectionately patting the trunk of the yew tree as though it were a friendly dog.

  The sun had gone down, and the stars had emerged, visible even through the thick branches of the yew tree. Dominic lay back, resting his head on his hands, and stared up at the sky. He patted the blanket beside him, inviting me to join him. I set my wine glass aside and lay down next to him. For the first time in a while, I felt the yew tree’s comforting aura pulse through me, as if encouraging me to trust it again. I gazed up into its branches, watching the breeze play through the leaves.