Witch Way to Death & Destruction Page 3

  “Wait!” I shouted before she disconnected the call. “That’s the thing. She got away. Where would a demon possessing a witch go?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” And she hung up. My mouth dropped open at the abruptness, but then I figured Izzy had a lot on her plate and finding Gran wasn’t her responsibility—it was mine. Crossing the road back to the Dusty Attic, I sniffed cautiously as I stepped over the threshold. The faint smell of sulfur still lingered.

  “Back so soon?” Wendy asked, looking up from a consignment note clutched in her hand.

  “Did Gran come back in here?” My eyes landed on the desk we used as a counter, the desk where I’d put Gran’s grimoire. Only it wasn’t there anymore.

  “What? No, she didn’t. Why?” Her eyes widened. “Did you lose her?”

  My lips thinned into a straight line. After the godawful night I’d had, this was the last thing I needed. Not only had I lost Gran, but she was possessed. She’d be so pissed at me for this. Realizing Wendy was waiting for a response I grimly nodded.

  “I don’t suppose you moved the grimoire?” I was starting to put two and two together. The demon possessing Gran had taken advantage of my distraction when Llewellyn Cox had rolled into town and ducked back into the store and swiped the grimoire.

  “I did.” Wendy pulled out a drawer and lifted the grimoire out, smiling. “I figured I’d put it in here for safekeeping.”

  I hugged her. I’d never been so happy to be wrong. “You are a godsend. Thank you.”

  Wendy squeezed me before placing the grimoire back in the drawer and sliding it shut. As an extra measure, she turned the key and held it aloft. “I’ll keep this safe and sound too. I figured the demon didn’t really want the grimoire and is possibly not very familiar with spell casting because that spell it cast was woeful. Plus, if it was here for the grimoire then it wouldn’t have brought it here, would it now?”

  “You’re right.” Blowing out my breath, I closed my eyes for a second, gathering my thoughts. “I’m going to go look for her. You okay here?”

  “Sure. You go, I’ll be fine.” She waved me away and once more I stepped outside onto the footpath. Where would a demon possessing a witch go?

  After canvassing the Main Street, I headed to the Esplanade. So far no one had seen Gran, but then I feared they wouldn’t have recognized her even if they had. I didn’t even know Gran had such bland clothes in her

  wardrobe. Rounding the corner, I spied a woman in beige pants and a white blouse sitting out front of The Tea Leaf, Poppy and Hetty’s tea shop.

  “Gran?” Ugh, I shouldn’t really call her that, but she turned her head and smiled at me as I hurried up the footpath towards her.

  “Oh, hello again.” She lifted a teacup, pinkie finger extended, and took a sip. “This peppermint tea is just delightful. You should try some, you look a little frazzled.”

  I blinked. Frazzled didn’t begin to cover it. Poppy appeared, carrying a tray with two cups and saucers and a quaint teapot. She delivered it to the couple sitting a few tables over before eyeing me and cocking her head. I followed her inside.

  “Is everything okay with your Gran?” she hissed in a stage whisper.

  “Not really.” Remembering Poppy’s and Hetty’s discomfort at the mention of demons at last night's meeting, I figured it was best they not know they had one sitting out front of their tea shop at this very second, apparently enjoying a cup of peppermint tea. “Has she been bothering you?”

  Poppy shook her head. “Not at all. She’s been most charming. Quite unlike Alice, I have to say.”

  I cleared my throat with a cough. “Must be that peppermint tea of yours.” I watched Gran through the front window. “Looks like she’s finished. How much do I owe you?”

  “Oh, she already paid.” Poppy patted my arm before disappearing behind the counter. Okay. One crisis averted. Now to get that demon out of Gran’s body.

  4

  Llewellyn Cox was a sight to behold. Mrs. Helbety hadn’t been wrong. As I’d approached his RV with Gran in tow, he’d flung open the door and stood framed in the doorway, shirtless, with worn denim jeans clinging low on his hips, corded thighs stretching the fabric tight.

  “I knew you were coming.” He grinned, his lilting Irish accent mesmerizing.

  “You did?” I squeaked, then cleared my throat, eyes wide as he stepped down from his RV, bare feet silent on the ground as he stepped forward and into my personal space.

  “How could I not?” he drawled, his intense green eyes surveying me from head to toe. His scent wrapped around me, vanilla and musk and something else so alluring I practically drooled.

  “What are you doing?” I stumbled back, out of range of whatever spell he was using, my face troubled.

  His grin flashed again, teeth white against the dark stubble covering the bottom half of his face. With his wild, shoulder-length hair and near nakedness and his scent—oh my God, his scent—he played havoc with my senses and had me forgetting the existence of my boyfriend. And just like that, the image of Jackson was akin to a bucket of cold water being dumped over my head.

  “You’re spell casting or doing something, I know that much,” I grumbled. “Quit it. I’m not interested. I have a boyfriend.”

  He chuckled a low rumble from deep in his chest, making the white beads that dangled there jiggle with the movement.

  “I assure you, I’m not doing anything. Whatever it is you’re reacting to is all me.”

  “You smell funny,” Gran announced, stepping close to him and sniffing before screwing up her face in apparent repulsion. I stared at her in shock.

  Llewellyn’s head whipped around and his eyes narrowed. “Ahhh.” He nodded, taking a step back toward his RV but keeping his eyes on me.

  “I see why you’re here. Not just to welcome a weary traveler to your town.”

  “We all know why you’re here.” I frowned in confusion. “You’re a…” I hesitated. If whatever creature inhabiting Gran’s body heard me say the words demon hunter, they’d bolt.

  Llewellyn cut me off. “I had a vision. A vision where I’m to save the Whitelight Witch.”

  “The Whitelight Witch? Do you mean Morgan Healy?” I pictured the sorceress in my mind, with her dark skin and whiter than white hair.

  Llewellyn snorted. “Hardly. She’s a sorceress, not a witch, and she doesn’t need saving. If anything, others need to be saved from her.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “We’ll talk after I’ve dealt with what you came for.” Those intense green eyes of his moved from me to Gran. “Won’t you come in for some tea?” he said to her.

  “Oh tea?” She beamed. “I love tea. That would be lovely, thank you.” Llewellyn stood back while Gran climbed the stairs and into the RV.

  “You coming?” he asked.

  Yes. I didn’t want to miss this, but there was something about Llewellyn Cox that set my senses on edge, so it was with heavy feet that I made my way inside the RV. It was bigger than I’d expected. A huge bed dominated the rear, a colorful woven throw tossed over it, then a small kitchen area, some cupboards, and at the front of the vehicle two large chairs that spun to face either the front of the vehicle or rear.

  “It’s bigger than it looks.” I couldn’t help it, the words just slipped out. I closed my eyes for a second, hoping he wouldn’t think it was some sort of come on.

  “Happy to give you a tour,” he drawled into my ear. Standing in the middle of the RV, he pointed at the bed. “Bedroom. Kitchen.” Then he tapped a tall slim cupboard opposite the kitchen. “Closet. Next to that, the bathroom. And this here is the dining room.” He touched the small square table situated behind the passenger seat.

  “Cozy.” I nodded, not knowing what else to say. I assumed it was a pretty standard layout for an RV but never having been in one before I had nothing to compare it too. Only Llewellyn’s had something I’m betting no one else had. Herbs, crystals, dream catchers, candles. He had bric-a-brac everyw
here. How he fit it all in I had no idea.

  “Please, take a seat.” He guided Gran to the passenger seat, swiveling it so it faced the table. Then he did the same for me, spinning the driver's seat and indicating I should sit. I did.

  There wasn’t enough room inside for us all to move about without touching, and despite his very attractive appearance, I did not want to be touching Llewellyn Cox. His raw sexuality and swaggering confidence told me he was used to getting his way with the ladies, and the lure of the king-sized bed mere feet away was too big to be ignored. He was a player, I was sure of it, and I had the sense Whitefall Cove was going to feel his presence in more ways than one.

  “Relax,” he said to me, busying himself in the kitchen, “I never go where I’m not wanted and you most definitely have a ‘not interested’ neon sign flashing above your head.”

  Heat filled my cheeks as I blushed. Was I that obvious? He chuckled and I wondered if he could read my mind.

  “Would you just relax?” he muttered. “Your aura is suffocating me and I’ve got work to do. You are not in any danger from me, I can assure you.”

  Right, yes. Sucking in a deep breath, I willed myself to relax. We were here for Gran. We had to get this demon out of her and Llewellyn was the man for the job. Despite Izzy telling me to bring Gran to Finn and Morgan, I’d felt drawn to bring her here, to this man.

  “You’d do good to follow your instincts,” he said, filling an electric kettle with water and setting it to boil. “I see you’re an over-thinker—not good for stress.” Pulling out a mug, he set it on the sink, then ran his fingers along a row of jars, finally tapping one and lifting it down, spooning the contents into the mug.

  The kettle boiled and he poured the steaming water into the mug, stirred, then handed it to Gran. At the precise moment her hand wrapped around the mug and her fingers touched his, he spoke, “Spirits of air, forest, and sea, set us of this demon free; beasts of hoof and beasts of shell, drive this evil back to Hell.”

  A blast of black smoke streaked out of Gran and I let out a startled scream, pressing back in my seat. Llewellyn held firm, his fingers wrapped over Gran’s on the mug as the cloud of black smoke whirled around the room before slithering under the door, leaving an odd void of sensation in its wake.

  “Finally,” Gran muttered, snatching her hand away from the mug. “I don’t drink tea. What were you thinking? And what in all that’s holy am I wearing?”

  “Oh, thank God!” Reaching over, I clasped Gran’s hand. “You’re back.”

  “How are you feeling?” Llewellyn took a sip of the tea and studied Gran over the rim of the cup.

  “Wait.” I frowned. “What’s in that tea?”

  “This?” He held up the mug. “Chamomile. You should try it, very relaxing. You are way too wound up.”

  “Not surprising considering my Gran was possessed by a demon,” I grumbled, feeling attacked.

  “Yes, well, if you two don’t mind.” Gran got to her feet, holding her arms out from her body as if she’d been dunked into something unpleasant, “I’d like to go shower and scrub that…whatever it was…off me. Not to mention burn these clothes!” Heading toward the door, she stopped suddenly when she reached Llewellyn.

  “Thank you,” she said. And kissed him. Not a matronly peck on the cheek either. A full kiss on the lips that went on for several seconds. Llewellyn, to his credit, didn’t pull away. Breaking the kiss, Gran stroked his bare chest with one hand, slapped his denim-covered rear with the other, winked, and was gone. I blinked, not believing what I’d just witnessed.

  “Don’t apologize,” Llewellyn growled.

  I blinked again. “I wasn’t going to!”

  “You were. You could afford to take a page out of your grandmother's book and loosen up a little. She was thankful for what I’d done and expressed herself appropriately.”

  “What? Your suggesting I kiss you too? To say thanks?” I snorted, rising to my feet. “Not going to happen.”

  Llewellyn’s grin disappeared, replaced by a frown. “That’s not how I do business and you know it.” His tone told me I’d offended him, and replaying the words I’d just said in my mind, I realized he was right. That was rude of me. Something about him set me on edge and I’d lashed out. I guess Gran wasn’t the only one acting out of character today.

  “I’m sorry,” I admitted. “That was rude. How much do I owe you?”

  Llewellyn, it appeared, was quick to forgive, for that grin was back. “The first one’s on the house.”

  I’d had my hand in my purse but paused. “You’re sure?”

  “I’ll do you a deal.”

  I opened my mouth to shut him down, but his grin widened, revealing even white teeth. “Not that type of deal. Boy, you have a dirty mind. And I know that’s what you were thinking by the pink in your cheeks.”

  The pink in my cheeks must surely be fire engine red by now and I resisted the urge to fan myself.

  “No, but seriously…” His voice sobered and he waved to the seat behind me. “Please sit for a minute. I’d like to talk to you.”

  “About the Whitelight Witch?”

  He eased himself into the seat Gran had vacated and sipped his chamomile tea. “Sure.”

  Resuming my seat, I watched him. “I’ve never heard of her before.”

  “She’s a witch with the power of advanced telekinesis. Very powerful.”

  “Advanced telekinesis?”

  “So basic telekinesis is where you can move objects with your mind, yes?”

  I nodded in understanding and he continued, “Advanced telekinesis is where you can move more than one object at once, or move them far, far, away. Plus they can access telekinetic energy. But what is important here is that she’s in danger. She needs protection.”

  I looked at him helplessly. “Honestly, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you sure it wasn’t Morgan you saw in your vision? She has white hair.”

  He shook his head. “I’m sure. It’s not Morgan.”

  “What did you mean earlier? When you said people needed protecting from her?”

  “Morgan’s a descendant of the Queen of Avalon.” Another sip of tea.

  “So?” I had no idea who the Queen of Avalon was.

  “So she uses her supernatural gifts to bewitch and manipulate humans for her own ends.”

  My eyes widened. “Are you serious?” Why would Izzy have invited a sorceress to help us if it meant said sorceress was a danger to us?

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Llewellyn studied his tea, face intent.

  “Can you read my mind?” I demanded.

  He chuckled. “Nope. But”—he looked up and his green eyes dazzled me, seemingly to glow—“I think I am here for you.”

  I couldn’t look away, the green eyes probing, burning into my mind.

  “What?” My voice came out three octaves higher than usual and I cleared my throat.

  “You…” He leaned toward me and placed his hand on my arm. It burned. “Are not using your powers to your full potential. You are denying your power. You have pushed your magic into a prison of your own making. I can break it free.”

  I reared back, breaking contact with him, rubbing my hand over my arm where his touch had burned like acid. Who was he? What was he?

  “Sorry. That came out a little intense, huh?” He grinned again and took another sip of his tea. “I can feel this power within you—kinda like a vibration. But you’re fighting it. I can help. Magic is nothing to be afraid of.”

  “Everyone has been telling me I’m a powerful witch,” I admitted, turning my gaze to the window and the trailer park outside. It all looked so innocent, so mundane, yet here in this RV, he was saying words that caused my heart to beat frantically in my chest.

  “I’m wondering if you are the Whitelight Witch.” He spoke so softly I barely heard.

  I was already shaking my head. “Sorry, not me. I have no telekinetic ability whatsoever.”

  Feel
ing the urge to flee, I stood, looking down at him. “Thanks for helping Gran,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

  “You’re welcome. One last thing, Harper.” I blinked in surprise. How did he know my name? I’d never introduced myself. “Don’t trust Morgan. Or Finn. He may be a druid, but he’s from the Otherworld.” He said it as if the Otherworld were not to be trusted, a dimension where evil is spawned. I’d never considered it one way or another, but now that he’d planted that little seed I couldn’t help but wonder…was he right?

  “I don’t believe Izzy would have asked them here to help us if they couldn’t be trusted,” I argued.

  “They hide behind a web of lies and illusion,” was his cryptic response. Then said abruptly, “Until we meet again.”

  Suitably dismissed I opened the door and climbed down from the RV and had taken several steps when I heard him call out behind me. “I meant what I said. I can help you with your magic. Think about it, Harper.”

  I hurried away, more rattled than I cared to admit. And then I remembered I hadn’t told him about the goblin but wasn’t brave enough to turn back and ask. Damn it.

  5

  Three goblin heads swiveled in my direction, faces a combination of surprise and guilt, before they each took off in different directions, leaving behind a stench that burned my eyes. Gagging, I pressed my nose and mouth into the crook of my elbow and ventured further inside my bookstore. Seemed like the stinky little vermin were multiplying.

  Wendy had closed up for lunch and I’d just returned from the demon-vanquishing session with Gran and Llewellyn, not expecting to find even more goblins, let alone in my store. With sulfur thick in the air and a sizzling sound echoing and bouncing off the walls, I cautiously began the search. “Serves me right for not going back and asking Llewellyn about goblins,” I muttered to myself, eyes watering. Gah, had they peed everywhere? Waving my hand behind me, I sent a dash of magic to prop open the front door. These guys were worse than skunks!

  Not only stinkier. But faster. I’d just catch a peep of one poking its ugly face around a bookcase and before I could blink he was gone. Around and around the store I chased them, stopping to repair the damage from their toxic pee where they’d taken a whizz against a chair or a bookshelf. I vaguely wondered if goblins had bladder issues because this was a serious amount of pee. Like…serious.