Page 113 of Wicching Hour

Bracken finally responded. “I have the proper box for it. I don’t use it if I need to carry it on a day like today.”

Dave shook his head on a chuckle. “Good on you then. Someday I’d like to hear the story of how you procured that, but not today. The one who’s in charge of keeping track of those is very high up and he’s been pissed for centuries that one of them disappeared from under his nose.”

Bracken’s gaze turned speculative. “I’d be more than happy to tell you how I ended up with this item, if you’d be so kind as to let me interview you about Hell.”

Dave’s eyes slid to me.

“Dave, this is my Great-Uncle Bracken. He’s a researcher of both human and supernatural history and I trust him with my life. Bracken, this is Dave, half-demon, half-Corey wicche, and cook at The Slaughtered Lamb.”

“Dave? As in Daeva?” Bracken looked at me. “Do you know his real name?”

“No, she doesn’t, old man, and she doesn’t need to.” Dave suddenly took more of an interest in Bracken than the grimoire in his hands. He turned to me, “Do you know he’s not full wicche?”

I glanced at Bracken and realized that everyone but Dave and me were frozen. “What did you do?”

“Just having a private conversation,” he said. “I’m not saying don’t trust him. I’m just saying he’s not how he presents himself. I’m calling himold manbecause that’s a glamour he’s wearing, and I want him to know that I know.”

“I meant what I said before,” I told him. “I trust him.”

Dave shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t. Given my parentage, that’d be pretty hypocritical of me. I just want you to be aware.”

“He did say that he didn’t believe his father was his father. He thought that was why he’d been spurned by his family.”

Dave nodded. “He’s probably right about that. Lots of secrets in this family. They may believe his father is another wicche, but I think fae.”

I stared at Bracken. “Really? He’s wicche and fae too?” He felt like even more of an uncle to me now.

“Did you already know that?” Dave asked to the right of me.

Bracken blinked. “I’ve wondered.”

Dave smirked. “Were you listening to the whole conversation?”

Bracken ignored the question and turned to me. “Does this change things between us?”

My eyes filled with tears as I quickly shook my head. I went to him and held his gloved hand. “We said we were alike. Now we’re even more so.”

He looked down, smiling. When he lifted his head, he was young and so handsome. He blinked and went back to my old great-uncle. “This guise is more comfortable for me now. It’s what I’m used to seeing in the mirror. Someday, when it’s time for Bracken to die, I’ll reappear as a long-lost cousin.”

I squeezed his hand. “Perfect. Just don’t go away for real.”

“Okay,” Dave said. “Move back to where you were standing so I can get rid of this thing. It feels like maggots are crawling over my hand.”

I went back, Dave lifted the spell, and he walked to the far side of the room, stepping over a huge spider leg. “Here we go.” Fire burst from his hand and the grimoire went up like an explosive. Dave’s clothes were blackened, but he was fine. When there was nothing but ash left, he brushed off his hands and looked around.

“I’d recommend torching the whole place and cleansing the soil. You can never sell this property, and you have to keep it hidden. If this place passes into the wrong hands, you’ll end up with a serial killer who keeps his victims in the basement.” Hands on his hips, he scowled around him. “You all get out. I’ll burn it down and see what I can do about pulling the curse out of the ground.” He seemed to be talking to himself now. “I can see if my father wants to help. He enjoys ridding the human realm of our interference.” He glanced over at us. “Why are you still here? I just said I was burning it down.”

“We’re going.” I grabbed Mom and we all headed to the patio doors as flames began to race up the walls.

FORTY-EIGHT

New Beginnings

Elizabeth and her family waited at the dock on the sailboat for us. As we approached, she looked behind us, her brow furrowed. “Where’s Mom?”

My mom shook her head.

Elizabeth grabbed Faith’s hand. “I—I can’t wrap my head around Mom not being here. She’s…indomitable. How could she be dead?” Her eyes filled with tears as Frank led her to a bench. He and Faith sat on either side of her, their arms around her.

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