Bound by Blood (The Garner Witch Series) (19 page)

“Do you find me desirable, Agent Reece?” The sound of his teasing, husky tone sent a shiver down my spine.

“Actually, I find you utterly irresistible, Mr. Donovan,” I stated in a strangled whisper.

“Because, if you must know, I am hopelessly enchanted by you. I feel as though you have weaved a spell around my heart.”

My heart melted like butter.

He ducked his head and sighed with an agonized moan. “I do have to get back to work, though.”

“Well, I should get going, too. I’ve taken up enough of your day.”

“I will miss you, but will see you soon.” He gave me a chaste kiss on the lips.

“About that... I’m meeting the guys from work tonight. It will probably be late.” I watched for his reaction.

In the past, the men I’d dated were always resentful about me working with mostly men. If there was going to be jealousy issues between Nathan and myself, I would find out now. But as much as I cared for him, I wouldn’t change who I was, even for him. I loved my job and I wasn’t going to allow anyone come in the middle of that.

I sensed his disappointment. “I have to admit, I am a little disappointed I will not see you until late, but I will be waiting when you return. Please, be careful, and have fun.”

“I’ll miss you,too. In all honesty, I really don’t want to go—I would prefer to spend the night with you. But this is my first invite out with my co-workers.”

“I understand. As much as I want monopolize all of your free time, you need time with other people as well. And, I appreciate how much your job means to you.” His acknowledgement and acceptance of my career touched me. It was important that he recognized how vital my career was to me, and he had just made it clear he would never stand in my way. He really was perfect.

“I will try not to be too jealous,” he teased, playfully, as he kissed me again.

***

A few hours later, I walked into the pub where I was meeting Morrison. The smell of stale beer and cigarettes permeated the air, and music played in the background from an old jukebox. I spotted Morrison and a few of the other agents in the back playing pool. I ordered myself a beer and headed over to meet them.

“Hey, Reece.” Morrison was grinning ear-to-ear.

“Morrison, why do you look like the cat that got the cream?”

“I happen to know a juicy little tidbit of information that you might find interesting,” he said, evasively.

“Why don’t we shoot some pool and you can tell me about it,” I suggested, grabbing a cue.

“Are you sure you want to embarrass yourself?” His overconfidence almost bordered on conceited, and never failed to surprise me.

“Don’t be too smug I can hold my own.” I wasn’t a great pool player, but I wasn’t terrible either. Nevertheless, I thought it’d be good for him to beat me at something, especially since I was going to kick his ass again sparring.

He beat me four out of five games, and was feeling pretty good about himself when we sat down with the other agents to finish our beers.

“Okay, so I checked out the registry today and you’ll never believe it—there were three bone marrow matches for Susan Marcone. And you’ll never guess who the matches were.”

Three? Lisa said there were two. Either she lied, or she missed one. What reason would she have to lie though?

“Let me guess—Morganna, Leslie, and Celia?” I watched his face drop in disappointment as his big revelation was ruined.

“How the hell did you know?” he groaned.

“Morrison, you are too easy to read. I just looked at how excited you were and knew it had to be good. And this is good.”

“I know,” he said, his excitement surging back. “Now we know that this asshole somehow has access to the bone marrow registry, and it’s probably how he found Morganna, Leslie, and Celia. What we have to figure out now is why he’s so interested in their blood,
and
who has access to the registry.”

“Okay, you two. That’s enough work for tonight. We’re here to have some fun.” This came from Ian Malone, one of the other agents in our office. Ian was a good-looking man,but at five-eleven, not very opposing. Nevertheless, what he lacked in height he more than made up for with humor—Ian was one of the funniest people I’d ever met. He wasn’t trying to make people laugh, but with his quick wit, coupled with a hint of an Irish accent and colloquialisms, he had me laughing so hard my tear ducts should’ve run dry by the end of the night.

The other agents were Kevin Gravelle and Jason Flemming. Jason was the agent who was with Morrison in the bar when I punched him. He’d definitely warmed up to me more since that day. But Kevin—he was harder to read, and much more serious. He was a black man and stood at an even six feet. His shoulders were broad and it was easy to see he worked out. He was very well respected in the FBI: he worked hard and he had a good reputation.

We sat at our table, drinking beer and talking about nothing in particular. It was such a welcome change for me to feel like oneof the guys—I could sense each of the men had grown to respect me professionally. I’d never had that feeling when I was in the Chicago field office. No matter how much success I’d in my career, I was never included with the male agents after work. A few of them had invited me out, but it was definitely not a platonic invite.

We played a couple more games of pool before I called it a night.

“I should say good night, guys.” I said, shoving to my feet. “See you at the office.”

Morrison stood. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“The hell you will,” I snapped. How could they accept me as one of the guys one minute, then coddle me like a helpless female the next.

“Morrison, in case you’re not aware, I’m perfectly capable of protecting myself. And I don’t need a bodyguard. Stay and finish your beer. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The tone in my voice brooked no room for argument.

“Sorry, Reece.” He sat back down and smiled. “I forgot for a second who I was dealing with. See you tomorrow.”

I had taken a cab in anticipation of having a few drinks, and as I waited for a pickup, I noticed how quiet it had become outside the bar. I couldn’t see or hear anyone. There was something disquieting about the silence. The hair at the back of my neck prickled as I suddenly had the distinct impression someone was watching me.

“This is crazy. You’re just being paranoid,” I murmured, trying to settle my nerves.

Although I couldn’t hear anything, I unmistakably felt a dark foreboding charge in the air, and it was becoming more and more intense as my awareness of it grew. The familiar current was the same one I’d felt in Morganna’s apartment. My pulse raced, and my body tensed in fear.

He was watching me.

My initial instinct was to run, but I knew that was useless. If it was the killer, he could outrun me. Besides, this man killed my mother, and even though I was afraid, I had the sudden desire to face him. I knew he stalked his victims before he killed them, somehow feeding off their fear. Well, there was no way I’d give him what he wanted, and I certainly wasn’t going to run away.

I steeled my nerves, stretching my senses to ferret out where the sniveling weasel was hiding. My gaze quickly scanned the northwest corner, and I focused all of my senses in that direction.

He was there.

The moment I turned to face him, he put his shields up and I could no longer sense his presence. But every instinct in my body knew he was still there.

I was just about to walk toward him when my taxi pulled up and honked. I hesitated before slowly climbed into the backseat, gazing around, hoping to see someone. And then I had the cab take me back to Nathan’s apartment.

Nathan was reading when I came in. His face lit up as he put the book down to greet me. He kissed me thoroughly before pulling back and noticing my expression.

“Is something wrong?” His voice cracked with concerned.

“I think he found me.”

Chapter 14

Nathan was irrationally paranoid. With the impending full moon, and my suspicion that the killer knew my identity, Nathan hovered. It was incredibly charming that he cared so much, but he didn’t leave me alone at all, and trying to hide our relationship was getting more problematical. He had his driver take me to and from work, and he spent every waking moment with me when I wasn’t working.

The weekend hadfinally arrived, and we were headed to my family’s home for our training when Nathan sprung it on me that he was going to unbind my powers. Having never taken part in a ritual, especially one that would significantly alter my life, I was nervous—I didn’t know what to expect.

“Nathan you’re confident this is a good idea?” I questioned again.

“Yes, I believe it is the best way to keep you safe. Morganna, Leslie, and Sherri all sensed he was watching them, and they were right. We need to trust your instincts, and make sure you have what you need to protect yourself. Restoring your powers will increase your strength, and give you a chance to defend yourself if I cannot be there.” He agonized at the prospect of me facing the killer alone.

“So when will we perform the spell to unbind my powers?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“Tonight at midnight.”

“Midnight? Why then?”

“The veil separating our world from the spirit realm is the thinnest at midnight. Our rituals and spells expend much less energy when conducted at that time.”

“Will it be painful?” I wasn’t afraid of the pain, I just wanted to know what to expect.

“I do not know for certain as I have never had my powers bound. However, I have witnessed another unbinding ritual, and my understanding is that it is not painful,. Yet, it can be...overwhelming.” He seemed to choose his words carefully and I wondered if he was editing the truth for my benefit.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

He sighed deeply. “No, I am not keeping anything from you. I just do not know how to articulate the experience. You will have to wait and see.” He reached over and took my hand, bringing it to his lips. “I will be there the entire time to help you through it.”

***

Casting a protective circle was the first priority before starting any spell or ritual. The area was a secure space to practice magic without negative influences affecting the outcome.

“We must remove our clothing before we close the circle,” he explained in all seriousness.

“Are you joking? You want to do this naked?” I asked, skeptically.

He laughed at my response and shrugged. “It is not a personal preference. It is considered virtuous to be as natural and pure as possible to demonstrate your allegiance is to honesty, and integrity, before any societal comforts and appearances. Still, I should probably admit, though this is a necessity, I will most definitely enjoy the view.” He leered and waggled his eyebrows. I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Before we disrobed, he pulled a vial from the pocket of his shirt.

“What’s that?”

“This is a vial of your grandmother’s blood.”

I regretted I’d never had the chance to know my grandmother. She was obviously a strong woman who did whatever was necessary to protect her family, such as having the foresight to store her blood so that our powers could be restored.

Overwhelming emotions filled me and I fought to swallow the tears burning my eyes at the knowledge of how much she cared for me—for all of us—enough to protect us even after her death. I vowed silently to make her proud.

I intently followed Nathan’s movements and noticed him placing a strange doll on an altar in the circle. I was wondering what the doll was used for when Nathan answered my unspoken question.

“The puppet was the conduit that your grandmother utilized to represent you.” He glanced at his watch. “It is time. If you are ready, we should begin.”

Nathan had explained how to cast a circle during our lessons, but hearing it and feeling it are two vastly different things. He started by lighting the candles placed on each of the five points of the pentacle. While he worked, he chanted something so quietly I couldn’t make out the words.

He moved to the bowl of water, poured salt into the liquid and stirred it with the athame. He proceeded to lift the athame into the air and move counter-clockwise in a full circle until reaching the northern point again. As the athame reached its starting position, I felt the circle close.

It was dizzying as the hum of power increased exponentially. I felt the breath of energy waft across my skin like a warm spring breeze filled with electricity. The power travelled all over me, along the entire surface of my body. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced.

“The circle is cast. We can begin the spell now. Prepare yourself, but I caution you strongly, do not leave the circle. It is our only protection against evil or negative energies. No matter what you experience, remain inside the circle.”

The cadence of his voice took on a lovely chanting tone once again, the tenor and musical inflection of the prose mesmerizing.

“Goddess, your guidance we seek this hour.

To help us restore this witches power.

By the power of fire, water, earth, and air.

Restore the power to its rightful heir.”

He carefully transferred the puppet into a bowl on the altar. He then popped the stopper on the vial and held it deferentially above the doll.

“Akychi blood we offer to thee.

Undo the binding, so mote it be.”

When he finished the spell, he poured my grandmother’s blood onto the doll.

For a split second I thought nothing was going to happen, and I looked to Nathan to see if there was any indication that this was normal. He stood patiently.

Gradually, I felt the air shift. There was a stirring in the atmosphere, a power growing around us, burgeoning and spreading throughout the circle. I heard a popping noise and whipped my head in the direction of the sound to find the puppet had burst into flames, a strange red smoke mushrooming from the bowl and pervaded the air.

The crimson smoke gathered into a cloud and settled above me. I could feel the charge of raw, natural power contained within it. The smoke slowly surrounded and engulfed me. It was terrifying. The only thing rivaling the booming of my heart was my deep, gasping breath.