Briannas Prophecy (5 page)

Brianna shrugged, rationalizing their behavior. She applied her lipstick, blush and mascara, then smiled. Her neighbors were most likely going to have something to say about the softer side of the witch this year.
Too bad!
“I know. They’d most likely make life so miserable here, we’d want to move.”

“
Have
to move, is more like it.”

“I’m not wearing the green face paint this year. I don’t care what they think.” Brianna smiled at her reflection.

“That’s it, girl! Don’t let them tell you what to do,” Amber cheered.

“Maybe next year I’ll just conveniently be out of town. It would be nice.” Brianna walked to the old vanity that once belonged to her mother and sat down to don the hated wig.

“They ought to be glad you do this at all, Bri. After all, this is the Eve of our New Year, the day we honor our deceased loved ones. I wouldn’t even go to the ball if they didn’t hold an open circle.”

“I know. I wouldn’t either, even though I love going. It’s always such a blast.” Brianna brushed her hair and left it to tumble carelessly down her back. “Hang on a sec, Amber.” She set the phone down. She’d almost forgotten to do one of the most important things of the evening.

After retrieving her old Besom and the new one she bought each year, she cast a circle and cleansed them both. She empowered the new broom with energies to remove negativity from her sacred spaces. She cleansed the old one, removing all energies from it so she could dispose of it properly. Its last use would be to carry around the front yard as a part of her costume tonight. She picked up the phone. “Thanks for holding. I almost forgot to bless my new broom,” Brianna said, feeling sheepish.

“I thought I heard you cleansing something. So, is the old broom going to go with you to scare the kiddies tonight?”

Brianna shook her head, forgetting for a moment that Amber couldn’t see her. “I’m not going to scare anyone. I don’t want these kids to have the same misconceptions of witchcraft their parents have because of me.”

“Good idea, Hon. I’m gonna let you go. Be at my house at eight.”

“Okay, see you then.” Brianna set the phone in its cradle and walked across the bedroom. She opened her jewelry box, removing a smaller intricately carved wooden case. From that, she withdrew a pendant on a chain. The necklace had been in her family for generations, passed down through hundreds of years. The large, heart-shaped stone was unlike any other Brianna had ever seen. When touched by anyone other than herself, the stone would lose its glow for months. It was almost as if it had some inner power meant for her alone.

She clasped the silver chain around her neck. The stone fit snugly between her breasts, below the pentacle. When the two brushed together, the pendant vibrated slightly and grew warm. Tilting her head to the side, Brianna stared at the old pendant as it rested between her breasts. She reached up to finger the stone. That was strange. She frowned. It had never done that before. Then again, she’d never worn the two pendants together before, either. Brianna, always too apprehensive to wear the heirloom, feared the chain would break and she’d lose it. For some reason, it just seemed right to wear the necklace tonight.

Brianna checked the clock again. Where had the time gone? “Darn it! I only have fifteen minutes to eat.” She hurried into the kitchen. The setting sun sent a soft orange glow through the window. It shone on the clean white countertops and floor, lending light to the dim room.

Killer raced in when she opened the door. His little rear wagged frantically as she opened a can of food for him and filled his bowl.

She pursed her lips. “Now what am
I
going to have for dinner?”
 

* * * *

Two hours later, a shivering Brianna rushed into the house for her cape. “I don’t believe I forgot to grab my cloak!” The never-ending stream of children hadn’t given her an opportunity to retrieve it, before. She ran to the closet and pulled out her beautiful black velvet cape. It was the one thing she’d splurged on when creating her Magical tools. She’d seen a red one just like it in a movie and had wanted one ever since. It took forever to find the right pattern, and even longer to muster the courage to cut the expensive black velvet. Never had she spent so much on one thing. Although she knew if she took care of it, it would last a long time.

Brianna bent and patted Killer on the head. “I’ll be back tomorrow, sweetie. Be good,” she said, smiling when he growled with his little face stuck in his bowl, his stubby tail wagging like mad. Stepping out on her porch, she closed the door and rattled the knob to make sure it was locked. Gathering her cloak close, she started the short walk to Amber’s house, a few blocks down the street.

When she first learned of The Craft, she had been pleasantly surprised to find that a wise woman lived so close to her. She first found out Amber was a witch three years ago. She had, in fact, spotted her in the occult section of a New Age bookstore. They had become fast friends after that.

She peered down the darkened street. It was quiet now, eerily so. A dense fog rolled down the street. It leeched into corners like a living thing. In fact, it was kind of creepy. It was a good thing that all of the children finished with trick-or-treating and were tucked safely in their homes counting their booty. She could imagine them with sugar highs, their little hands and faces covered in chocolate. They would be sticky and sweet, smelling of sugar, chocolate, and dirt.

Brianna loved children—even wanted a dozen or so of her own. She only needed to find the right man to share her life with, which, of course, was why she had resorted to casting a spell in the first place. Today had been the twenty-eighth day. Since spells usually came to fruition within a full moon cycle, it was a safe bet that hers was another resounding flop. The spell, even with the power she’d seen shoot from the tip of her wand, apparently hadn’t worked. She was no closer to having found her soul-mate than she’d been last month. Her shoulders drooped at the thought.

Avoiding an especially thick patch of fog on the sidewalk, she crossed the street. She had no desire to be caught in the mist tonight. There were too many stories about what can happen on all-hallows-eve when the veil between worlds was thin. Her step quickened. Though she knew most of the stories were just that, she still didn’t want to take the chance of stepping through an ethereal doorway to another world.

A strange sound came from the old Harper place next door to her house and made her jump. Curiosity caused her to slow her pace. No one had lived there since before she’d moved to the neighborhood. Over the years, the house had become a rundown, ramshackle roost for stray animals and lusty teenagers. It needed to be torn down or renovated. It gave the impression of having been a beautiful home at one time. It now just gave everyone the creeps.

No one wanted it. Mr. Harper had gone berserk and brutally murdered his wife there. It had been that very thing which caused the property values in this neighborhood to drop enough for Brianna to keep the house she had inherited from her parents. The taxes had been too much for her before.

Brianna peered across the street in an effort to see through the dense fog. All the while, she called herself a busybody with nothing better to do than poke her nose into other people’s business.

She poked anyway and hoped she wouldn’t have a reason to regret it. A light bobbed around the interior. Someone was inside with a candle or flashlight. It was probably just kids making out again. Suddenly, the lights on the first floor came on.

“Did someone finally buy the old place?” Her voice sounded strange, almost disembodied. The fog distorted the intonation, lent it an eerie quality. Curious, Brianna wandered closer to the rambling old house. It was one of only a handful of two-story houses on the block. The steps up to the porch, over the crawl space, needed work. Some of the boards were missing, and the rotted handrail needed to be replaced.

Brianna crossed the street, her feet dragging, even as her gaze was drawn to the patch of light on the front porch that spilled through one of the tall windows. It was almost as if some unseen force pulled her toward the house, like a compulsion. She walked blindly, still staring at the light in the window and didn’t notice the rapidly approaching figure through the fog.

“Oomph!” The impact forced the breath from her lungs. Brianna felt as though she’d been run over by a freight train. Only it wasn’t a train that ran her over at all. It was the man who stood towering over her. Brianna inhaled sharply and looked up at him. She was tall, but he was even more so. He was at least a half a foot taller than her five-foot nine-inch frame.

He held Brianna’s shoulders in a firm grip, where he had grabbed her when they bumped into each other. She swallowed thickly and tried to ignore the sexual awareness accompanying his touch. The aura of power that surrounded him was strong and almost frightening. Gooseflesh covered her skin, and she fought the urge to shiver beneath his touch.

“Excuse me,” they said in unison.

Brianna, grateful for his quick thinking, stared up at his dark good looks, unable to say a thing. She certainly would have fallen, had he not caught her. Swallowing thickly, Brianna attempted to ignore the rush of heat racing through her bloodstream at his touch. She also tried to ignore the intense desire to fall at his feet in supplication, the man was so commanding.

His warm hands rested against her sensitive flesh, and he absently massaged the hollow above her collarbone with his thumbs. Heat flared out from where his thumbs caressed her and a strange feeling settled low in her womb. This man was sex on a stick!

She looked up. Way up.
Whooo boy!
The man was tall—the tallest she’d seen in a long, long time. His thick, ebony hair gleamed blue-black in the feeble light from the street. Cut short, it was wavy and stuck up in all directions, as if he continually felt the need to rake a worried hand through it. His face was ruggedly handsome, framing a strong jaw, straight nose, and firm sensual lips that held the promise of passion. Brianna couldn’t help it. She stood and stared, unable to tear her gaze away from this perfect specimen of manhood.

The man’s snug jeans encased oh-so-long, muscular legs like they’d been tailored for him. Perhaps they had. They certainly left very little to her imagination. At least she hoped she wasn’t imagining the seemingly large size of his package. If Amber was right, and size was everything, well, this guy had it all.

His shirt, a button down of an indeterminate color that was difficult to see in the subdued light, was opened at the neck and revealed a small portion of his smooth, muscular chest. She was almost sorry he was wearing a shirt. Oh, to have all of those muscles she could see rippling beneath the shirt plainly visible to her inspection.

Yum!
Brianna unconsciously licked her lips as she felt her temperature rise. She actually had to make a deliberate effort not to fan herself. Clearing her throat, she tilted her head back and smiled. She really liked that in a man, having to crane her neck so she could see him, that is. There weren’t too many men in the world she could literally look up to.

The man stood still, studying her intently. Brianna watched, spellbound, as emotions chased through his expression, swirling through the depths of his dark eyes.

She cleared her throat, reluctantly stepped from his gentle embrace and finally gained his full attention. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I was just surprised to see lights on in this old house.” She bit her bottom lip to keep herself from babbling.

The man smiled. His straight teeth a brilliant display of white in his shadowed face. “I am sure you were,” he nodded toward the house. “I have heard that no one has lived here for nearly five years.” He tilted his head to the side and looked at it critically. “It is a shame, really. It is still very beautiful inside, even though it has been neglected for far too long. Would you care to—” he offered as he extended his arm toward the house.

“I can’t,” she interrupted. “I’m expected at a friend’s house. We’re going out together.” She smiled apologetically. “I hope to see you tomorrow, though. Perhaps we can have coffee then. I live next door to you there.” She pointed to her house then held out her hand. “I’m Brianna O’Neill, welcome to the neighborhood.”

He dipped his head, almost regally. “It is nice to meet you, Brianna.” He took her hand in his before he bent over it, pressing his warm lips against her knuckles. “Please forgive my lack of manners. I am Niklas Voortag.”

The man had a strange, but beautiful accent. His English, though formal, was flawless.

Her eyes widened as she glanced at her watch, “Oh, my! I really have to run. It was nice meeting you,” she called back with a wave as she disappeared down the street.

* * * *

Niklas stood watching as her steps echoed in the night and the cape billowed behind her. The sweet smell of berries lingered in the air as she walked away. He stared after the woman as she hurried down the dark, mist-covered sidewalk until the dense fog totally surrounded her.

He shook his head, and his mouth twisted wryly. Just his luck! The first female he’d been remotely attracted to for the last five years ran away from him. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, though, with that huge hairy growth on the side of her nose. Yet, there was something about her that attracted him.