Charmed & Ready (8 page)

Once again, back to the beginning with this thing. I have a gang of cloak-wearing wannabe bad guys. An Arnok demon, and the death of Zane's brother. The events are too close not to be related.

And I've been thinking about that voice. Maybe it's my muddled mind, but when the warlock in New York spoke he sounded just like that evil Blackstock. I remember that tone reverberating in my head when he tried to kill me in my conservatory. I'm crazy. I sent that asshole to hell. There's no way he'd be back.

God, my head hurts. Maybe it's not the demon acid. I could have picked up a summer flu or something. My arm actually looks better, but I feel one hundred times worse.

I'm expected downstairs in a few minutes and have to pretend all is well. If Zane even suspected that I was under the weather he'd have every doctor in town here and probably buy me a Bentley. Since I've saved his life twice in the last few weeks, he swears he's indebted for life.

Whatever. I just want to find out who the hell is trying to kill him so I can go home.

Tuesday, 5 P. M.

New York City

Spells: 2

Icky witches: 1

Okay, it sounds dramatic but I feel like I'm going to die. I've been taking herbals for the last few days, and it's kept my fever down. But whatever this is it's not good. I'm sick.

On to more important matters. I met Zoë. I'm not much into kids, but she's a cute one. Very polite, and quiet. The thing that gets me is the sadness that emanates from her. She has huge gray eyes that just look right through you, and she drags that elephant I saw in the dream around with her everywhere she goes.

I also discovered she has a touch of magic in her. A witch doesn't really come into her powers until late teens, but I could feel it in her.

I asked Zane if he knew if her mother had been a witch.

He looked at me funny and then ran a hand through his blond curls. "No, no. But it wouldn't matter. She wasn't Zoë's birth mother. My niece is adopted."

Hmmm. Interesting.

"And these problems you've had began when her parents were killed?"

We were standing in his kitchen at the country house, which is as big as a ballroom. Three sinks. Who the hell needs three sinks? And two fridges. Please.

"Bronwyn, what are you getting at? Zoë has nothing to do with these attacks. My God, she's a child."

"Calm down, rock star. I didn't say she did. It's just that nothing is ever really coincidence. What's happening to you is a puzzle I have to put together, and I've got to look at all aspects of the situation."

"I thought the whole point of bringing you here was so you could just sort of wave your hand and make it all go away," he mumbled.

Man, yesterday I was the big hero. Oh, how fast the glory fades.

"Trust me, if I could wave my hand, and get rid of the trouble, I would. As you've seen, it doesn't work that way. I don't have a single person I can tap into."

At that point I bent over in pain and then ran for the sink. I guess I don't have to say how embarrassing it is to lose your breakfast in front of a client. A client who happens to be one of the most famous celebrities in the world.

"What the bloody hell? Why didn't you tell me you're ill? Matt," he yelled. "Get in here. Our girl's sick."

Who is Matt?

When the prime minister came in I almost fell over. Great. It never occurred to me he had a first name. If I hadn't been about to pass out, I would have laughed.

"Matt, what do we do?"

The prime minister pulled out his phone. "Don't worry Brother, I know what to do."

Brother? As the lights dimmed before my eyes, I whispered, "Call Garnout."

I woke up this morning in Garnout's guest room in his Manhattan apartment. I have no idea how I got here, but my mother was sitting beside my bed.

"Oh, honey, how do you feel?" she asked when I opened my eyes. There wasn't a hair out of place on her head. She always looks so immaculate. My mom is as close to perfect as they come. Since witches age slower than most, people always think we're sisters because she looks so young.

I blinked twice and moved all my body parts. "Better." My voice was a harsh whisper.

My arm had healed completely. But the worried expression on my mother's face told me things had been rough going.

"What happened?"

"Well, it seems the demon's acid made its way to your heart. When you whispered Garnout's name he heard you. Neither of us is sure how. Before the prime minister could call him, he was there in the kitchen. He flashed you back here, and I'm certain he kept you from dying." Her voice caught.

I tried to sit up, but my head was still dizzy. Mom stood and plumped the pillows behind me.

She dabbed her nose with a tissue. "He called not long after he brought you here." Her eyes welled with tears. "Oh, baby, I've just never been so frightened. We almost lost you twice."

I squeezed the hand she put in mine and brought it to my cheek. "Sorry. I'd tried to get the poison out of my system. I invoked every healing spell and potion I could find, but nothing seemed to work. By the time I realized how sick I really was, well, I guess it was too late."

"Don't worry about it now, dear. Garnout knew exactly what to do." She pushed my hair away from my face.

"Where is he?"

"When your vital signs stabilized I sent him to the shop and your dad back to the hospital. They were both driving me crazy. Hovering and clucking, like mother hens. Your dad wanted to try antibiotics, and Garnout poured one potion after another down your throat. I'll call them in a minute to let them know you're awake."

We talked for a few more minutes and she gave me my journal to write in. She knows how important it is for me to get everything on paper. I'm kind of paranoid that someday a warlock will get the best of me, and no one will know what happened.

Oh, man I'm tired. Think I'll rest for a bit.

Thursday, 2 P. M.

Bored witches: 1

They finally let me out of bed today. Since I woke up, my mom, dad and Garnout have been waiting on me hand and foot. It's quite disconcerting. We've played cards, listened to music and I've read the latest
Witch's Journals
until my eyes are crossed.

I even had "the talk" with my mother. No, not the birds and the bees. The why-does-my-boyfriend-hate-me talk.

"That man loves you." My mother smiled as she laid down her sixth hand. She's a killer gin player and has no sympathy for a sick daughter. "I know he does."

I almost threw my cards at her. "Let's play Texas Hold 'Em." At least then I might have a chance of winning. "And he may have loved me once, Mom, but I almost died and he hasn't even called."

"I told you, we haven't been able to get in touch with him, and Kira says he's out of town."

Kira had told me the same thing. She and Caleb have been so worried about me. I'm lucky to have friends like them.

"So what should I do? How do I get him to love me again?" The words sounded desperate, even to me.

"Baby, you can't make someone love you. I saw those pictures of you and that Zane fellow. Sam's a great guy, but we all have our pride. It couldn't have been easy for him to see."

I understood that. Really, I did. "But why can't we at least discuss it like adults? He won't even answer my calls."

Mom shuffled the cards. "Oh, honey, give him time." She held up a hand. "I know that isn't what you want to hear, but men have to mull things over a bit. Trust me, your father and I have had our differences. There's been lots of mulling on both our parts."

I'd never heard my parents argue much. Once in a while when Dad got tired of going to charity events, or when Mom had to teach late at night and he worried about her safety.

She was a pretty powerful witch, though she turned away from the craft. My dad didn't need to worry about her. We played for a little longer. I won one hand out of five, and she'd never played the game before. Did I mention my mother's perfect?

This afternoon, I'm outside in the tiny courtyard below Garnout's apartment. He shares the green space with two other tenants. It's beautiful, and though it's August in New York and about two hundred degrees, the flowers are in full bloom. The jasmine and roses make me think of my own garden back home.

The wizard knows how much I need nature to heal. That's where the majority of my magic comes from and I have to be close to it on a consistent basis to feel good.

His apartment is always tidy, though it's filled with oddities from around the world. I like things a little less pristine, and nature is always messy.

The prime minister, Zane, and several of my friends besides Kira and Caleb in Sweet have called to check on me. I learned that Zane and the PM are stepbrothers. I don't know why one of them didn't think it important to mention the fact they were related. That opens up a whole new set of possibilities as to why someone is trying to hurt Zane.

Garnout's brought in Callie Lane to help. She's a witch who's based in Sydney, Australia. I've met her at a couple of the conferences and she's one of the few witches that could give me a run for my money. Luckily, we get along fairly well. She's kind of tough but I know she'll protect the prime minister and Zane with her life.

Normally I'd feel horrible about someone taking on my charges, but Garnout says it could be a few weeks before I'm back to normal.

"Bronwyn, remember when you were attacked by Blackstock?" Garnout began the lecture, as he paced in front of my bed.

"It's not like I can forget one of the worst days of my life." I rolled my eyes and he smirked.

"Well this attack had ten times the black magic behind it that Blackstock's did."

That got my attention. "What?"

"It made its way to your heart, and it was quite purposeful, as if it were specifically made for your body chemistry. I've got a lab studying it, and even they are stymied." He pulled on his long beard.

"What are you talking about? It was just a stupid acid-spitting demon."

"The instrument was the demon, but the poison he spat at you was made with a dark magic. Something we haven't seen for years."

"But the demon was after Zane. I just happened to get in the way."

Garnout sighed. "Dear, you know there is no such thing as a coincidence. The scenario was carefully orchestrated. They made it seem like Zane was the target, but the poison wouldn't have worked the same way in his body. He would have felt bad for a day or two, and then been fine. No, someone wanted you out of the way."

He sat down on the edge of the bed. "I've done some checking and you'll be happy to know there aren't any mystical hits out on you at present. It may be the first time in five years that's happened."

I laughed. I did seem to be a great big target for bad guys. That's why I moved away from New York. Every time I took a walk, or tried to eat at a restaurant some stupid warlock would cause trouble. I moved to Sweet, Texas, to avoid all that. The town had its share of magical folks, but so far none of them wanted to kill me.

Maybe with the exception of my recently ex-boyfriend, who wouldn't talk to me. I'm mad because he hasn't called, and sad because I love him so much it hurts. If I could just see him, I know we could sort this out.

"Well, I'll delve a little deeper and see what I can find. We are trying to trace the magic, but so far we haven't found much, except it originated in Europe somewhere. Do you know of anyone who would wish you harm?"

Normally, yes. But to be honest I hadn't pissed anyone off in at least a few months. Well, that I could remember, anyway.

I told him no, but he didn't look like he believed me.

"How are your talks going with those corporate covens that moved into town?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

He frowned and shook his head. "Bad business, pardon the pun. Magic and money seldom mix. I don't know what those witches and warlocks are thinking." He stood. "I know there's something dark involved with them, but I haven't found proof."

I smiled. The Wizard Garnout thrived at keeping the world's magical balance intact. It's what kept him hanging around in this dimension for so many years.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

He reached down and patted the top of my head. "Just heal." He sent a healing spell into my body and I instantly relaxed. "If you behave, I may let you go home over the weekend. Why don't you call your friend Caleb and see if he can come get you? I don't think you need to be on a commercial flight with your immune system so compromised."

"Oh, I'll be fine by then. I can fly myself home, my jet's still at the hangar." I couldn't wait to get back up in the air.

"No, Bronwyn, you aren't fine. This thing attacked your heart. Think of it as a heart attack. Your body needs more time to heal. You are a witch and that helps speed the process but you can't push these things. Call your friend, or the deal's off, and you'll be stuck with me for another few weeks."

Argh! I'd just convinced my mom and dad that I didn't need to go to their house to recoup. I sure didn't want to be stuck here. So I called Caleb. He needed to come to Manhattan anyway. He's working on a freelance piece for the
Times
.