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Authors: Rachel James

BOOK: Sacred Circle
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A black blob flashed by their toes, derailing Brianna's outraged screech to one of fright. Seeing the cat, she stamped her foot at him. He darted away, down the sidewalk, and behind the building.

“He's becoming an awful nuisance, Devlin.”

“He can't help it, so stop trying to provoke him.”

The taunt had Brianna halting abruptly, pulling from his grasp.

“My God, that's it. I had it all wrong.”

“What are you yammering about now?” Devlin asked, taking her arm back again, and prodding her forward. She pulled from his grasp.

“I sent the Guardians away from the circle, not realizing that Mother had instructed them to stay and guard her essence. Oh, why didn't I pick up on that warning sooner? If I had, Mother's essence would never have been left unattended. Part of her lingering coma belongs to my sheer stupidity. I have to make it right.”

Devlin snatched her arm and swung her about.

“Don't even think of bonding with Nicodemus to make it right. You're going to focus on evoking the Weaving, and that's all you're going to think about.”

She broke his hold on her arm.

“Stop freaking out every two seconds, will you? You're making it impossible for me to think good thoughts, and I need to think good thoughts—if I want to secure the Council's blessing.”

Something cautioned him not to ask her to embellish on that, so he sighed loudly instead.

“You're trying my patience to the max, Goldilocks.”

“Good. That means you'll give up being my conscience, and find something better to do with your time.”

“I have something better to do with my time. You're just not agreeable to doing it with me.”

Her glance sharpened.

“You're an incredible ass, you know that?”

Obviously not wanting to hear his answer, she flounced away, heading for the Healing Center on her own. He followed her path slowly, recalling the smoldering passion they had shared only hours ago. Their bodies had been in exquisite harmony with one another then. And now? She was locked in his mind and heart permanently. Her essence was worming deep into his soul, and he was sure the haunting meant he was on a collision course with the Sisters of Fate once again.

• • •

The glittering cape swung up and over the masked features of the figure's face. It was dangerous to be hanging about the Sage cottage in broad daylight. Anyone could take notice. However, Nicodemus had to be found and disposed of. He had been trailing Brianna for hours, and each time, he was getting closer to bonding with her essence.

The figure grimaced. It was a dreadful fact that Nicodemus had the power to sabotage any spell a witch constructed. Cats could literally skirt the fabric of spells, and often did, when their Mistresses were threatened. The cat had done it in the clearing five days ago, and now that he had a new Mistress, he was attempting to protect her with the same tenacity as his former Mistress.

“RRR-owww.”

The cat's cry had the figure rearing back in fright. Cats were also sneaky. Nicodemus was proving it by appearing out of nowhere and growling his dislike. The figure swished the end of the cape at the feline.

“I'm not afraid of your power, Nicodemus. I have plenty of my own.”

“Rrrr-Owww.”

The figure dismissed the meow, raising a hand and chanting boldly.

“From you to me, this spell I make; this is not your power to break. The path you take will abruptly end; and back to you, the spell I bend.”

A red fire cone appeared in the palm of the figure's hand, spinning wildly. Seeing it, the cat growled low in his throat and then arched his back with a fevered hiss. Not at all intimidated this time, the figure flicked the energy at the cat, who attempted to dodge it with a quick jump upward. He was two seconds too late. The bolt of energy slammed into his backside, and then catching hold, it rippled up his back and down his front paws. His painful scream set off a chain reaction in the earth beneath his paws. Startled insects broke off their scurrying and fled to a safe haven further underground. The birds in the nearby trees fell silent, and a small wind eddy spiraled up and over the cottage. The cat stiffened suddenly, and then collapsed to the ground, motionless. Feeling the change in energy shifts, even the caped figure backed up quickly and fled the scene. In seconds, the waterfall in the meditation garden stopped flowing, and a colorful desert iguana toppled over, off the top rock and into the darkening pool of swirling water.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE WEAVING

Brianna stepped back from the mirror and drew in her breath. She had turned into her mother in the last few minutes, and it was an eerie transformation. She studied the netted hairpiece awash with sparkling moons and stars. She had wound the netting through her blonde ringlets in a most tantalizing way and had been thrilled with the result. It had been years since she had taken so much care with her appearance and it felt heavenly—a true feminine delight. In fact, since she had donned one of her Mother's svelte blue gowns, she had felt a refreshing energy, as if she had just been bathed by one of the Ancients' healing washes.

Dropping into a chair in front of the dressing table, she began retouching her make-up. The Council would be floored to see her in coven attire; probably even rendered speechless. What would Devlin think?
That you're gor-ge-ous,
her inner voice complimented.
He'll make love to you on the spot.
Brianna grinned at her reflection. One can only hope, she mused, dropping her lipstick tube. He will definitely be shocked to see how well she cleaned up; she was shocked herself. And how would Nicodemus take the transformation when he saw her? Would he be confused by how much she resembled her mother? The watch on her dressing table buzzed the top of the hour. Two o'clock, and she was late!

Brianna rushed up from the chair, stopping to slip her toes into a pair of sparkly heels, before giving a last glance into the mirror. Pleased by the voluptuous woman staring back at her, she whirled about and dashed out of the cottage.

Six minutes later, she arrived at the Assembly Hall, out of breath, and cursing her choice of footwear. She had nearly broken her ankle twice during the run from the cottage. Reaching the outer door, she paused and took a deep breath.
It's now or never,
her inner voice coaxed.
Success or failure.
She flung open the door and stepped inside.

The six figures standing in the center of the room turned, startled by the door banging against the wall. She recognized Rufus, Sally, and her father at once, and even though she hadn't set eyes on Eileen O'Connor in fifteen years, she recognized her robust figure and bobbed hair-do. Francis was conspicuously absent from the group, and the two figures standing by her father were total strangers.

She felt a touch on her arm and turned.

“God, you are breath-taking.” The words were barely out of his mouth when she was swept into Devlin's arms and kissed with a hunger that belied his outward calm. Her heart jolted at the ravishment of her mouth and her heart began pounding like a runaway train. The moment her legs began to tremble, she broke the kiss and backed out of Devlin's arms.

“You're smearing my lipstick,” she said, breathlessly.

“I'd like to do more than that,” he retorted. “But the Council's waiting.”

Her glance switched to Doctor Ellis, standing off to the left of the group. He was staring at her as if he had seen a ghost. Well, wasn't he? She was wearing her Mother's gown, so technically, at the moment she was her Mother.

“Do you remember the proper chant?” Devlin whispered from beside her. “You must not, because I can feel your heightened energy as if it were my own.”

Brianna twisted her head and met his penetrating gaze. Did he not realize that their marriage had made it possible for him to actually do that? She certainly was able to feel his energy through walls. Obviously, her senses were more attuned than his, because he continued to stare at her with a strange look that belied any recognition of her energy.

“I remember,” she finally remarked, dismissing his concern.

“We're ready for you, Brianna,” a deep voice beckoned from her left. Brianna jumped at the sudden appearance of Rufus Lord. “I assume you remember all the Council protocols?”

Brianna sent him an annoyed glance.

“I can recite them by heart, if you'd like.” She felt a squeeze on her arm and softened her tone. “I know all the chants, and I promise not to demean the ceremony.”

The Elder looked doubtful, but he didn't push the issue.

“Very well. We're ready when you are.”

He spun on his heel, leaving the pair to follow him to the center of the room. Watching him go, Brianna knew he was playing his role as Third Elder to the hilt.

“Keep your cool when we get there,” Devlin warned. “I'm getting tired of squeezing your arm all the time.”

Brianna stumbled, surprised by his sarcastic tone.

“That's easy for you to say. You aren't wearing three inch high heels and a push up bra.”

“But I
am
wearing a clean shirt and coven trousers.”

“I noticed. You look like . . .” She left the sentence hanging.

“What? Ridiculous?”

“No, dashing—like a Victorian rake.”

“Careful, Mrs. Janus. That sounded a lot like a compliment.”

“You're an ass.” Brianna said, slipping away from him. She joined the group circle, addressing Rufus as she took her place in the center.

“It's Coven protocol for only the Elder Council to be part of the Weaving ceremony,” she said, eyeing Sally to her right. “Has Francis chosen not to participate in it?”

She met with silence, and sensed no one wanted to be the bearer of bad tidings. Finally, Sally stepped forward.

“Francis has chosen not to participate. He feels that this ritual will do more harm than good. As First Elder, he has invoked his right to substitute another witch in his place.”

“And you got the luck of the runes?” Brianna asked.

“I was flattered he thought of me. However, I promise you I am quite capable of channeling spirit. I shall not let you down.”

Brianna studied Sally's face. Why in the world had Francis chosen Sally as his replacement? Her recent illness made her an iffy candidate.
He did it to piss you off,
her inner voice chided.
He lives to piss you off.

Waiting for Devlin to join the circle, Brianna took a moment to judge the rest of the Council assembled around her. They were dressed in their ceremonial best, staring at her like terriers waiting for attention. Their glances were shifting between her and Devlin, and then back to her again. Brianna sensed immediately she was being scrutinized for flaws. Well, that was better than being intimidated by dark, angry expressions, wasn't it? She took a breath and adjusted her smile. Now, if only she could ignore Rufus's critical squint. He seemed to be the only one in the circle with enough courage to wear his feelings on his face. His next words proved it.

“We are ready whenever you are, Brianna. We will try to do you proud—even though evoking an Ancient Power without having undergone the Crowning is an insult to the Coven.”

Brianna's eyes darkened with emotion.

“Your objection is noted, Rufus; however, I can't imagine Papa phoned me about Mother without realizing that I might have to invoke my rights as Interim High Priestess if I came. Surely it dawned on you that I would follow Coven protocol to the letter once I arrived?”

“Evoking the Weaving is highly premature, though,” Sally responded. “And not at all proper—given your questionable history with us.”

“Forgive me, Sally, but I was under the impression that this Coven excelled in not judging others. I thought we were all about forgiveness as well. It seems I was wrong. Now, it looks as though the Coven forgives some, but not others.”

It had been a cruel thing to say, and Brianna didn't know why she had felt compelled to twist Sally's words. After all, they were standing in a sacred place, intending to summon the goodness of spirit, not trade in silly, childish taunts.

“Enter the Land of Spirit, through any open door; and drink from the Grail of Life for one day more. It is there you will find the cauldron of love, as it is in the below, so it is in the above.”

Devlin's strong chant had Brianna's mind switching gears. She centered her body and, lifting her arms, she addressed the heavens.

“Before time was, there was the no-thingness. And the no-thingness was the One; and the no-thingness was the All. And the no-thingness felt a gentle stir, and the stir became a breath of life. And the breath of life expanded, splitting into two forms, equal but opposite. And the no-thingness named the forms God and Goddesses. And the Gods and Goddesses stretched out and became energy. And the energy became gases, and suns, and planets, and moons. And the whirling globes were alone, solitary, except for the no-thingness. And the no-thingness saw it was good and showered the forms with light. And the light formed union. And the union formed seeds. And the seeds sprinkled the heavens above and the earth below. And all were blessed by the Gods and Goddesses, in homage to the no-thingness. And the Goddess chose the Moon as her symbol to remind the seeds all are born, live, and die, and are reborn again. And the God chose the sun as his symbol to remind the seeds, that all things come to pass under its light. That has been the way of existence before time was. And with the blessings of the no-thingness, the nothingness into nothingness is the whole journey. So mote it be.”

The group clasped hands.

“So mote it be.”

Sally's voice washed over the group's heads, loud and confident.

“In the realm of magic, this Coven shall reside, no one but the chosen shall view what's inside. If life be to Earth, as Water to emotions, let harm come to none, this is our devotion.”

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