Page 92 of Wicching Hour

“I’m not sure she did,” Bracken interrupted. “You told me that story weeks ago and I looked into it, because it didn’t sound like something Mary would do. I checked the history of this building. After it was closed in 1971, it languished for decades and then was finally sold to an entity called Mac Lir Properties when you were five.”

I went stiff.

Bracken watched me a moment. “I’m not positive, but I believe your father could be Manannán Mac Lir, fae Irish sea god. Didn’t you tell me you were about that age when you found the cannery and that pedophile followed you here?”

Elizabeth and Robert went on high alert and Faith looked down.

I nodded. “And Dad told me his name was Mac.”

“The name on the deed changed to Arwyn Cassandra Corey when you were about ten. My guess is he noticed you breaking in, exploring, hanging up your art, and he wanted it to be yours.”

Declan shook his head in disbelief, looking up at me. “How much did she charge you for this place?”

I felt dead inside. It was one thing to use me and my gifts for the betterment of the family, but now she was stealing from me. “Three million,” I whispered.

Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. “Mother charged you three million for a gift from your father?”

My eyes filled, but I angrily dashed the tears away as Declan pulled me onto his lap. “Gran said it was easily worth five million, but she’d take the loss and sell it to me for three because she knew I loved it.”

“Where did you get that kind of money?” Faith asked, her voiced hushed.

Shaking my head, I gestured around us. “My art. I’ve been selling my pieces since I was a teenager. Mary Beth, my agent, was in Carmel for another artist’s showing. She walked by a tiny gallery on the way and saw one of my paintings in the window. She came to see me and signed me that same day. I was thirteen. She’s been selling my work ever since. I do readings too, but I use that money to cover daily expenses. The proceeds from my art sales go into a special account. All I’ve wanted since I was little is to have my own gallery.”

I leaned on Declan when he wrapped his arms around me. “Why?” I whispered.

“Sometimes,” Bracken began, his voice somber, “people are alienated from friends and family as a means of control. If they’re the only ones showing you love and affection, you’ll do anything for their approval. It’s like a beaten stray who’s finally adopted. That dog will be more loyal, more vicious against threats, than one who has enjoyed love and safety all its life.”

“Not my mother,” I protested, sitting up straight. “She wouldn’t do that to me.”

He nodded, not looking entirely convinced. “You’re probably right. You two wouldn’t have been at odds with one another for so long if she was in on it.”

“You should sue for that three million,” Frank said from the window. “Destroy her.” The rage in his voice made us all turn to him, but he kept his back to us.

Feeling hollowed out, I wanted to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head. I didn’t want to do this tonight. I didn’t want to—wait. Standing abruptly, I looked around the room and then at the maps.

“Oh, no you don’t, Calliope. You’re not derailing our plans.” Suddenly concerned, I watched my cousin a moment and then said, “Frank, why don’t you come back and help us plan.”

He didn’t move.

“Declan,” I said softly, moving across the studio toward Frank. “I need my octopus bottle.”

He was up and bringing it to me a moment later. I took off my gloves and he poured some ocean water into my palms.

“Hold him for me,” I whispered.

Frank spun, enraged, but Declan was too fast. He had his arms around him, pinning Frank against his chest. Robert was up and started to say something, but Bracken hushed everyone.

“Frank, you’ve been standing over here, looking out the window for a while now. I won’t hurt you. I promise. I just need to make sure Cal hasn’t made her way past my wards through you.”

I laid my damp hands on either side of his face and heard the chanting almost immediately. Gathering my magic, I let it flow through my veins and collect in my hands. I needed to impose my will. Cal had no counter to fae magic. I let the tidal wave build in me. When it was cresting, ready to slam down, I let it pour out of me, washing through Frank, telling it to cleanse Cal and her demon from his mind.

Seawater splashed at my feet. When I opened my eyes, I saw a terrified and drenched Frank staring back at me.

“Wh—what happened?” he asked, his voice shaking.

Robert and Elizabeth ran over, pulling Frank into their arms. They held him close, getting wet themselves.

“Is he okay now?” Elizabeth asked, panicked.

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