Page 38 of Wicching Hour

Mom nodded. “Fire will be the priority.”

“Okay,” I said, holding my bare hands up. “I have no idea what’s going to happen. I’m going to focus on protective spells, but shared visions aren’t out of the question.”

They each took a hand and then?—

A man sneers. I can’t see his face, just his sneering lips and smoke-stained teeth. His thick fingers wrap around the neck of a bottle with a threadbare rag hanging out of the top. A chunky silver ring in a shape of a heavy metal cross sits on his thumb as he flicks a cigarette lighter with a broken, dirty nail.

A tall flame shoots up and is put to the rag. It catches fire. Adrenaline pumps as the man reaches back and then launches the bottle against the side of the gallery. Old work boots, peeling at the creases, run to a waiting sun-faded blue pickup truck. The edges of the running board and the fender are being eaten by rust. He jumps into the passenger seat even as the truck kicks up pebbles, racing down the dark, empty coast route.

The vision goes black and then…

A boat bobs in the rough ocean waters. It’s storming and waves are capsizing over the stern. The boat readsBishop’s Queen. It’s tossed in the tumult. White knuckles grasp the tiller. A piercing scream cuts through the roar of the storm. A young woman, her black braids whipping in front of her face, is thrown against the older woman desperately trying to keep the boat from capsizing.

The young woman grabs the tiller too and tilts her head into the wind. Faith. Her mother—Elizabeth—grabs Faith and holds her tight just as a huge wave bucks the boat and sends them both overboard under the deadly waves.

Mom gasped and we were standing beside the RV, still hand in hand.

Bracken blinked rapidly and then said, “My. That was extraordinary. Is it always like that?”

Mom shook her head. “At least we aren’t on the ground.”

I glanced between the two. “It was different because you were a part of it,” I told Bracken. “You have an eye for detail, so we were focused on the details.”

He nodded. “I got the license plate number. You can give that to your detective friends.”

“I didn’t see that,” I said and almost dropped my hands. “Wait. Let’s do the wards first and then we can discuss what we all saw. If this vision was like previous shared visions, we all saw something a little different.”

Mom nodded, looking up at the clear blue skies. “I’ll call Elizabeth when we’re done to tell her to stay off her sailboat for a while.”

The magic felt different with Bracken involved. He tempered the strong female power with his own, and he was very powerful. Why had no one ever told me that? Never mind. I knew why. They’d discounted him as a child, and he’d been cut adrift to develop his skills on his own.

The warding went faster than usual. Granted, we were warding a much smaller residence, but still, we were a strong three. By the time we finished, though, my left hand was cramping. Bracken had had a death grip on it while we worked.

I tried my best to inconspicuously shake it out, but apparently I wasn’t as sneaky as I’d thought because Declan was suddenly holding my hand and massaging it.

Bracken stared thoughtfully at the water and my mom pulled out her phone to call Aunt Elizabeth. I leaned into Declan, my head sore. A moment later, his strong fingers were in my hair, rubbing my scalp.

“Do you read minds too?” I whispered.

“You have a very expressive face.” He kissed me and then led me back to the deck. “Let’s all go in and you can discuss your vision.”

Mom held up a finger to let us know she needed a minute. Bracken followed quietly behind us.

When we got to the back door of the studio, I turned to my great-uncle. “Is everything all right?”

He looked up from the deck. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Of course. Just thinking.” He followed us and then got a new look in his eye. “I need to check your stores for poison.” He went to the refrigerator first, opening the side-by-side refrigerator and freezer doors. Closing his eyes, he held up his hands and slowly drew them from the top to the bottom, never touching anything.

When he was done, he closed the doors. “No poison.” He turned to the storage closets I used as my pantry. He’d seen me go into them before and so knew where to look. It took a few minutes, but then he turned, shaking his head. “Your stores are clear. So, how will the poison be introduced?” He was talking to himself, but we were all thinking the same thing.

Mom walked in a moment later. “Your aunt says they had planned to go sailing this Sunday, but they’re canceling those plans.”

I nodded, the tightness in my chest relaxing. “Bracken says I’m poison-free.”

Bracken held up a hand. “Not so fast.” He pointed to the gallery door. “Isn’t there food out there?”

I thought about it and realized I hadn’t put the food away yet. Nodding, I followed him into the gallery. He walked behind the display case and slid open one of the doors before taking a step back almost immediately.

He turned to find me watching. “I’m sorry, my dear, but there is definitely poison in this case.” He slid open the other door, held up a hand, and then shook his head, sliding it closed again. “That side is fine. The poison is on this side.”

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