Mystical Love (35 page)

“You're on overload—too much work, and too little sleep, and for what? Why are you pushing things at such a breakneck speed?”

Brianna didn't answer right away. She could tell Tommy the truth—that she had been feeling a disturbance somewhere in the fabric of time for months, and was worried by it. He would understand her fears. After all, they had no secrets from one another. He might be a man of art and science, but he had added the power of magic to his vocabulary since meeting her.

Still, she didn't want to involve him in her childish fears unless she had to. If only she didn't sense that the disturbance concerned him in some way. She could feel it pulling both of them towards the past, instead of the future. And worse, she felt herself being dragged back—towards old relationships that she had vowed to keep buried forever. Besides, she shouldn't be able to gauge energy levels anymore. Yet, she could feel the energy in the room around her as if she had conjured up a cone of power, complete with the Guardians of the Watch Tower. No, she stopped her thoughts. She had no intention of revisiting that kind of pain ever again. Not for anyone. She gave a tired sigh.

“Have you ever made a decision you wish you could take back, Tommy?”

“Only every time I sit across the bargaining table with you.”

“I'm serious.”

“So am I.” He heard her sigh again, and threw out his hand. “Okay. Are we talking a complete do-over here? Or just a small, magical tweaking?”

“I'm talking a total re-do, a chance to relive a moment over again, and make a different decision.”

“My God, woman, you own two foundations and a wildlife habitat. What else do you want?”

“Mind-blowing sex would be nice.”

She heard a busted chuckle.

“Surely you can conjure up a willing partner with some simple romance spell you know.” He saw her frown and held up a finger. “None of that matters now. What matters is your damn decision to alter your life.”

“Don't get me wrong.” Brianna stated. “I am genuinely proud of what I've accomplished with the foundations. But somewhere along the way, the dream became so twisted that it no longer resembles the dream I started out with. Now, I just want to find my roots again and start over—preferably with a quiet, respectful man who loves children.”

Tommy scooted his chair forward, and then settled back.

“You need a strong-willed husband, blue eyes. Any other kind, and you'd run rough-shod over him.” He switched thoughts rapidly. “Now that you're revamping your life with mind-blowing sex instead of business, I guess a merger of Sage Industries is out of the question, huh?”

“I haven't sunk that low yet.” Brianna snatched a tissue from its holder and blew her nose. “Well, you've heard my bad news; how did it go in Texas?”

“Damn charlatans. They let me fly all the way out there, and then just as we hit the bargaining table, they sent word they were passing on the buyout.”

“Did they give a reason?”

“They said they're looking to liquidate their holdings, not acquire more.”

“It was a good deal, Tommy.”

“For you, it was. But let's face facts. Big corporations bypass great deals all the time. It's not personal. It's just business. We'll find another buyer. D.J. Corp isn't the only game in town.”

“No, but he's the best. His projects are always environmentally sound. He doesn't drill the hell out of the land or the sea, and his wildlife habitat in Wyoming has an ecosystem to die for.”

Another sigh emanated.

“I did my best in Texas, Brianna. I hope you believe that.”

Brianna gave a matching sigh.

“I know you did your best.” She squared her shoulders. “Let's start making phone queries again. Perhaps D.J. could recommend another corporation that might serve as well. What do you think?”

“I'll call Jake Rogers and find out.” He reached in his coat pocket and withdrew his Blackberry. He began making notes on the pad, and Brianna took a moment to study her calendar.

A second later, the phone jangled on the desk, startling them both. Annoyed, Brianna snatched up the receiver, and held it to her ear.

“What is it, Janet?”

“Brianna?”

The voice was low and unfamiliar, and Brianna tucked the receiver closer to her ear.

“Who's this? Can you speak up? The connection's bad.”

The voice came online again, steady and loud this time.

“Brianna?

Her pulse skittered.

“Papa?” She clutched the front of her blouse. “Am I dreaming your voice? How in the world did you find me?”

“I've always known where you were, Brianna—right from the day you left my side. I've followed your career closely over the years, too. I'm extremely proud of who you've become.”

Brianna's chest tightened.
Déjà vu, Brianna
, her inner voice nudged,
déjà vu
.

“What's wrong, Papa? Why are you calling?”

“There's been an accident.”

Brianna squeezed the front of her blouse, his words freezing her brain. Sudden tears welled up, followed by another heaviness centered in her heart.

“Its mother, isn't it? I felt something in the wind—a hint of something bad. How s-serious is it?” she asked.

“Very serious. The entire congregation has fallen ill.”

“Good heavens! What from? Have you determined the cause?”

“Our best guess is a busted ritual.”

A shadow of alarm touched Brianna's face, and a warning voice whispered in her head again.
Déja vu, Brianna, déja vu.
To her dismay, her voice broke slightly.

“And m-mother?”

“She's gravely ill. I don't think she's going to make it. That's why I'm calling.”

Brianna bit her lip to control a sob.

“Can she be moved to a critical care unit in Tucson for treatment?”

“No. She collapsed while performing a ritual, and until we determine what occurred prior to her collapse, we can't let outsiders get involved. We attempted to intercede on her behalf, and well, I don't need to tell you what can happen when an intercession fails.”

Brianna's eyes bordered with tears again.

“You must call 9-1-1 immediately. Mother needs to be airlifted as soon as possible. I can meet you in Tucson some time tomorrow afternoon.” She glanced at her calendar. “I can catch the red-eye flight out tonight.”

A weary sigh emanated in her ear.

“That won't do, Brianna. I'm suffering from the energy sickness, along with the members. I am unable to travel at the moment.”

Brianna heard a raspy cough and winced.

“You must let me come home, Papa. I can help.”

“I wish you could, but when you left, all ties to the coven were broken.”

An unexpected surge of anger had Brianna lashing out.

“That was fifteen years ago. It has no bearing on this incident. I have read the Book of Shadows, and I know what's written in terms of who succeeds whom in a crisis. There's no doubt in my mind, I have to come home and assess the situation.”

Her father's cough came through the line again.

“It took a long time to put the Dark Time behind us, Brianna. Please don't make a mockery of our laws by going against them again. I only called you . . . in case this is goodbye.”

Silence descended on the other end of the line, and Brianna suppressed a sob.

“Papa . . .”

The line went dead, and Brianna's hand shot to her mouth. He had hung up on her. Her hand suddenly fell away. It was clear the Dark Time had descended again without warning, and this time, her mother's essence had taken the hit. She replaced the receiver slowly, wishing she could replay her father's words in slow motion. Her mother had been performing a ritual when it tanked. No, her mother didn't make mistakes like that. Then what?
A clever attempt at murder?
Her inner voice threw up. She shunned the thought, but then thought better of it. Why would the Elders attempt to alter a ritual if they didn't suspect foul play?

She banished that thought, too. She wasn't going to start suspecting that a sinner had entered the clearing and attacked her mother. Her mother's collapse had been an accident caused by spirit, and her father had let the Council try to reverse the outcome—with disastrous results. What had made him do such a foolish thing? She wouldn't know until she asked him in person. Or saw her mother.

Snatching up the phone again, she punched in Janet's extension.

“Ready for the next dose of Nyquil?” Janet teased.

“No, I need you to call the airport and book the earliest flight to Tucson for me. And book a rental car.”

“Will do.” The line went dead and Brianna replaced the receiver.

“Do you want me to fly home with you?”

Brianna glanced up, suddenly remembering she wasn't alone in the room. She covered her mouth with shaking fingers.

“Thank you, Tommy, but no. You've got to stay here and find a buyer for my company. It's more important than ever now. I'll sign the power of attorney over to you before I leave.”

He leaned forward in his chair.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

Her voice drifted to a whisper.

“I'll conjure a protection spell for the pilot and passengers before we take off,” she replied.

“That's not what I meant, and you know it. We're talking about you walking back into the lion's den when you've vowed to never go into the den again. Bad blood doesn't dissipate over the years, you know; sometimes it just hibernates.”

Brianna began chewing on her lower lip, her eyes darkening with pain.

“I have to go home, Tommy, and that's that.”

He didn't offer any other comment aloud, but she saw him frown. She looked away, clamping her lips to imprison a sob. The past was the past, and though she needed it to stay dead, she couldn't sit and wait for word of her mother's death. She felt ice spreading through her stomach at the thought, and she suddenly burst into tears.

Alarmed, Tommy sprang to his feet and circled the desk. He threw his arm over her shoulders, comforting her with his warm embrace and sly wit.

“Here now, blue eyes, forget what I said. If you have to go home, I'll support you. I'll even find one of those magical books of yours and conjure up a spell for you to use.” He squeezed her shoulders, and Brianna slipped her arms about his waist and hugged him.

“You're the best, Tommy. I knew you'd understand.” She brushed her cheeks against his belt buckle. “If I don't go, and Mother dies, I'll never forgive myself.”

“And if they slam the gates in your face?”

“I'll lose my soul.”

“What's one little soul among many?” Tommy teased, shaking her shoulder.

Brianna squeezed his waist.

“You are treading on sacred ground with that statement, Tommy. Every soul counts in the scheme of things.”

“Even your damaged one?”

“God, I hope so,” she said, slipping her hands from Tommy's waist. She leaned back in her chair, swiping her drenched cheeks with a tissue. “All better now,” she said, tossing it under her desk. A long sigh emanated as Tommy re-circled the desk and fell into his chair again. His sly wit re-surfaced at once.

“I know we've bantered about witches and warlocks over the years, but just how good of a witch are you, anyway?”

Brianna's head shot up, a mischievous glint entering her eyes.

“Change the subject, Tommy, or you'll find out first-hand just how good I am.”

He held up his hands, making a cross with his fingers.

“Stay back, you evil, blue-eyed vixen.”

Brianna laughed at his sarcasm.

“Crisis averted,” she croaked.

“And without using black magic against me.” He gave her a toothy grin, dropped his hands, and hopped from his chair. He hauled up his briefcase, rapping it on the edge of her desk before turning.

“Just say the word, and I'll fly home with you, Brianna.”

She studied his serious expression.

“This is something I have to do alone, Tommy. And,” she pointed a finger at him. “You need to find a buyer for the company ASAP.”

He nodded, then turned from the desk, and exited the door. Watching him go, Brianna gave a relieved sigh. Thank goodness, Tommy knew when to push, and when to back off. If he had pushed things, she would've come unglued, for sure.

Torn by an influx of conflicting emotions, Brianna began drumming her fingers along the desktop. What had really happened to her mother in the circle? She didn't know; she only hoped that when she arrived in Green Sapphire, she'd find that the Elders had misread the signs, and things weren't as bad as her father implied. Her mind replayed Tommy's words: “And if they slam the gates in your face?” She frowned immediately. If, when she arrived, she was barred from the property, she would work her way south along the back roadway, and enter the compound through the outer property bounds. She was going to determine for herself what happened to her mother, and nothing and no one was going to stop her. No one was going to hurt her mother and get away with it.

The “
Do Not Disturb
” sign hanging on the doorknob came loose and flew away as the door slammed open, and Jake Rogers, Devlin's partner, strode to his desk. A file sailed into Devlin's line of vision, and he raised his head.

“Good morning to you, too,” he quipped with a lop-sided grin.

“Don't ‘good morning' me. I've been up all night.”

Devlin leaned back in his chair.

“It's nice to see another ecological egghead bogged down in mud. My last two days have been spent training field engineers who don't know shit about the earth, or even give a damn about it. I welcome the chance to talk to someone who actually knows what I'm talking about—even if that someone needs a bath and clean shave.”