Mystical Love (58 page)

“I can't thank you enough for all you've done, Tommy. You've been a true friend, through all of this.”

He studied her thoughtfully for a moment.

“You're buttering me up for something. What is it?”

Brianna didn't waste time.

“I need Mother's amulet.”

“What for?”

“To stimulate Nicodemus's powers. He can read essences.”

“And this will help us, how?”

“He can locate Mother's Book of Shadows, which will list her thoughts and impressions over the past few months. I believe the journal will also name the sinner we are looking for.”

He shifted in his chair.

“How dangerous is stimulating this cat for answers?”

Brianna's answer froze on her lips. There was no physical danger in the binding with Nicodemus; however, the ramifications would be sizeable. Her life in Washington would come to an end, and the Coven would be the only solid reality in a shifted world. But she couldn't tell Tommy that. At least not right now. She had to convince him there was no danger. Her fingers squeezed the top of his knuckles.

“You've got to trust me, Tommy. This is my chance to relive a moment, and be the solution rather than the problem.”

His pudgy face rearranged itself into a grin.

“I know I'm going to regret this . . .” He stood and walked to a cookie jar atop the kitchen counter. Lifting the top, he hauled out the amulet. Returning to the table, he dangled the crystal in front of Brianna. “Your husband is going to be mighty mad,” he remarked, dropping the amulet into her upraised palm.

“He'll be furious—but not for the reasons you think,” Brianna replied.

“Where is he, by the way?” Tommy asked, reseating himself.

“At the Tea Shop, arranging for the celebration that will follow the interviews.” She rose from her chair. “We're setting the first of several traps by quizzing the members. And if I'm lucky enough to have found Mother's Book of Shadows before then, we will bring our sinner to justice not long after.” She pocketed the amulet. “I need a short nap, though. You should do the same while we have a few loose hours. Devlin will be along shortly.”

Brianna whirled from the table, hearing a rapid movement behind her.

“Tell me you know what you're doing.”

She halted in mid-stride and spun back. Her laughter floated up from her throat.

“When have you ever known me to not know what I'm doing, Tommy?”

“Since never. But you've never been a High Priestess before. The power might be going to your head. Power corrupts, you know.”

Brianna's laughter floated again.

“Relax. It's a title, nothing more. It's the ongoing practice of the title that creates the Priestess. And the Crowning, of course.” She saw his baffled look. “We won't be here long enough for the Crowning, so you can stop worrying.”

His expression softened at her words.

“Life sure is a bitch. You think you've got it all figured out and wham! Something totally different enters the picture.”

Brianna's mouth twitched.

“Amen to that. Now, go get some sleep. I need you at the top of your game tonight.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He skirted her shoulders and then took the staircase two steps at a time. When he disappeared into the hallway, Brianna headed for her room and, hopefully, for a productive binding with Nicodemus.

• • •

Brianna rounded the doorway, spotting the black form lying in the center of her bed.

“Well, there you are, you naughty creature. Got tired of chasing after me, eh?” The shape didn't move, or acknowledge her greeting. That same feeling of dread stole over Brianna again and she bolted to the bed. “Nicodemus?” She shook his inert body, horrified when she felt how cold it was. “Oh, no,” she mumbled. “Not you.”

Energized by fear, she whirled from the bed, frantically searching for her Pentagram on the dresser. Who had been so mean as to harm Nicodemus?
A deranged mind,
her inner voice prompted. Well, she'd make that deranged mind pay—in spades. Locating the crystal, she rushed back to the bed, and holding it over the cat's body, she improvised a chant.

“Into this crystal before my eyes, I bless thee and charge thee, my power to rise. The love for this cat, I hold deep inside; let magic return him to his spiritual light. Swift is the magic that will make it so; send high above and down below. The no-thingness is all; the no-thingness is none. This is my will, and let it be done.”

The dangling amulet began to pulse with a rainbow of colors, surprising Brianna with its cascading light. To her delight, the prism began to radiate with a swirling white mist, which showered out of the crystal, and onto Nicodemus's inert body. His paws soon twitched, followed by his tail, and then his fur began to ripple, as if being combed luxuriously. He sneezed abruptly, and then opening his eyes, he stared at Brianna. She felt a tremendous surge of energy roll through her body, and realized he was merging their essences. In seconds, she was on her knees by the bed, encased in an amazing feeling of completeness. The feeling lasted only a few more seconds, before the cat bounded up and purred loudly at her. Brianna studied his posture.

“You're welcome,” she said suddenly. “Good Lord, I'm conversing with a cat.” Brianna bolted up. “I'm awake and dreaming.” She pinched her arm. A loud chuff echoed from the bed and she glared down at the cat. “No, I am not always this suspicious . . .”

Her hand came to her mouth as she realized she had understood the cat's thoughts perfectly. Her mother had never said a word about High Priestesses being able to converse with their Guardians. A series of stuttered purrs began to vibrate from Nicodemus's throat, but this time the thoughts were so jumbled, she couldn't decipher them. Sinking onto the bed, she studied the yellow eyes now reflecting glimmers of light.

“Slow down. Just because you can understand my thoughts easily, doesn't mean I can read yours.” A stuttered sneeze rocked the bed. “Very well, get on with it then. We both know what has to be done.” Brianna crossed her legs and signaled for Nicodemus to crawl into her lap. When he continued to sit purring at her and not moving, she frowned. “This is no time to be difficult. Mother's life is at stake.”

The cat rose and stretched its front legs out, and then took its time extending its back legs. Brianna's lips twitched as she watched his slow movements. He had a sense of humor, she'd give him that. He was making it clear which of them was really in charge.

A series of sneezes swam from his nose and Brianna closed her eyes, attempting to focus on reading his aura. To her surprise, their auras merged, and a moment later, she was astonished at the sense of fulfillment he passed to her.

“Everything connected to Everything,” she mumbled, softly. Nicodemus moved then, crawling into her lap and sitting in readiness, his back to her. Brianna scratched his nape and then brushed it. “Let just hope I'm the awesome witch Mother believes me to be.”

“Rrr-oww.”

“Yes, I'm ready. Stop your scolding.” Forcing her mind to concentrate, she wrapped her fingers around Nicodemus's neck and closed her eyes. “‘And ye shall say these words. I will love and harm none, I will live, love, and live again. I will meet, remember, know, and embrace once more. For the free will of all, And with harm to none; As I will, It now is done. So mote it be.'”

Her thoughts filtered back to her, and she wondered why she didn't feel some guilt over the relief she was feeling. She had just altered her life with a series of words and it felt—well, freeing.

A door slammed in the distance, and her eyes flew open.

“Rrr-owww.”

“Oh my God, Devlin! He'll kill me when he learns what I've done.” The cat sprang to the floor, heading for the door. “Stop!” Her call had Nicodemus whirling back with a stuttered growl. Brianna scooted to the edge of the bed, dangling over the side and meeting his glittering gaze. “You cannot tell him what I've done; he gave strict orders for me not to bind with you without telling him first." The cat meowed its disgust. “And you are not to converse with him until I say it's alright. Do you understand?” A chuff came her way. “I don't care if it's not proper to withhold the Binding from him. You will do as I say, and that is that!” A louder growl emanated, but the cat remained in place. Slipping from the bed, Brianna stuffed her toes into her shoes rapidly. “Stay in this room until I come back for you. If our sinner sees you alive . . . who is our sinner, by the way? You have to know.” He didn't answer and she stamped her foot impatiently. “This is no time for power plays.” He ignored her words, bolting for the open window and jumping through.

Watching his tail disappear, Brianna scrambled to the window.

“Come back here. You're not safe.” She hung out the window, watching his body disappear into a set of rose bushes and emitted a curse. Blasted creature! He was up to no good, and there wasn't a thing she could do about.

Hearing voices beyond the doorway, Brianna scrambled from the bed and headed for the kitchen. She had to keep Devlin from sensing the binding. She had promised she wouldn't commit to it without discussing it with him first. But how to do it? He was a master at reading auras, and she was sure that her aura was now stained with Nicodemus's—for good or ill.

Frowning, she slowed her steps.
Focus his mind on the upcoming interviews,
her inner voice prodded.
Keep him busy on that and he'll never notice the shift in your aura.
Right. Got it. Charm him first, then hit him with the truth.

The Weaving started with an energized prayer, but quickly fizzled to a polite and subdued inquisition. Four hours and ten minutes later, the interviews stopped at the Council's insistence. And now Brianna stood juggling a plate in her hand while pouring a strawberry cooler from an ice pitcher into a thermal container. She had been circulating for two hours, making apologies and accepting sympathetic condolences on her Mother, and through it all, she had kept her wits about her and portrayed the loving daughter of a Coven High Priestess. The afternoon interviews had been grueling; all thirty of them, sapping her energy as she did her best to be subtle in her questioning. Luckily, the members had been subtle as well. Though curious, they had maintained the proper perspective and answered each question honestly.

Replacing the pitcher in the cooler, she glanced across the grass to a gathering of bodies. She hoped Devlin had gleaned more from his questions. Her interviews had garnered nothing concrete concerning her mother's collapse. And if Devlin's brought the same, she would have to admit that the sinner was far more devious than she imagined.

She let her gaze drift to the woman standing beside Devlin and felt a sudden tug on her heartstrings. Was the stress of keeping the Binding from Devlin finally taking its toll on her heart? She rubbed the sore spot.
Nonsense, you're just jealous. Eileen O'Connor is showing a lot of interest in your very handsome husband.
Make-believe husband, you mean, she chided her inner voice.
Until his mouth closes softly over your breast,
her inner voice taunted.

Her gaze studied the conversing pair. Eileen was certainly monopolizing Devlin's time, though. Her face was animated, with frequent taps on his arm as if emphasizing a point, and Devlin appeared to be enthralled with whatever she was saying.
Go over and tell Eileen he's your man.
Stop, she told her runaway thoughts. We are divorcing Devlin Janus the first chance we get.

Craning her head, she listened to the angelic music playing overhead, and heard a stuttered purr around her ankles. She glanced down to find Nicodemus rubbing his chin against her bare leg. Yes, the Elders do have great taste in New Age Music, she told him. The soothing harps certainly make the food more appetizing. Her gaze lifted to the standing group. Yes, Devlin appears to be far better equipped to quiz the congregation than I am, she continued. Now, get away from me before he notices you hanging about my ankles.

“Hello, Brianna.”

The greeting startled Brianna, and sent Nicodemus flying for cover. Brianna brought her gaze to the edge of the buffet table. She studied Sally's features, noticing the large gold pentagram, hanging in the center of her black dress. No one else could wear such gaudy jewelry and make it look stylish except for Sally. Brianna dropped her plate on the edge of the table, and exchanged a warm hug with the woman.

“Are you sure you should be talking to me?” she asked. “Francis looks as if he's ready to bite my head off.”

She glanced over her shoulder.

“He doesn't take defeat well. He was sure he would find a potion that would cure the Coven illness and heal Danny, but you beat him to it.”

Brianna felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle at Sally's words, and she raised her hand to rub the area. Funny, if she didn't know better she'd swear she was being warned about something. But what? She glanced at Sally more closely. Was the warning about her? No, the aura surrounding her figure was pathetic, sheathed with a silver and grey luster, but that only spoke volumes about her current snobbery towards her husband. Feeling a tight knot starting at the back of her throat, Brianna gestured towards the table.

“Sit down, Sally. You look ready to drop.”

Sally sank onto a folding chair, and Brianna picked up her plate from the buffet table and joined her. As she sat, she noticed Sally's vacant stare into space. Where had her mind gone to so rapidly? And what was she thinking?

“Are you sure this gathering isn't too much for you, Sally? You've done a remarkable job on pulling it all together at the last minute, but you've barely recovered from your respiratory illness.”

The energy around Sally's aura fizzled to an even more gray shade, and once again, Brianna felt that odd prickling on the back of her neck. What was spirit trying to tell her?