Mystical Love (60 page)

“Her essence? I never thought of that.” Her expression turned thoughtful again. She shook her head a moment later. “No, if she was protecting herself it would mean that the same mandala she was performing could be recreated to restore her health, and Brad has assured us that he has found no such ritual in the Community Book of Shadows.”

“But suppose the ritual could be found?” Brianna asked, shifting in her chair. “What then?”

“It would take a pretty powerful witch to carry it off,” Eileen stated. “And as good as we are at ceremony, not one of us Elders holds that much power.”

“I might.”

“Good heavens! You're not really thinking of recreating your mother's ritual? It would be suicide.”

“Maybe not. With Mother's inherited skills, and Devlin as my consort, it could be done.”

Eileen's hands came down on Brianna's folded ones, and Brianna saw her gaze soften.

“We both know that your marriage to Devlin is a sham.” Brianna blushed at the bald statement; however, Eileen seemed not to notice. “Though we hold no animosity towards you or him any longer, our forgiveness doesn't extend to allowing either of you to slander our heritage. And as for performing a ritual to restore your mother's health, well, you must never mention such a thing to Rufus or Francis.”

“Why?”

“Because they have already discussed the idea with Brad, and he has assured them the attempt would be futile.”

Brianna's pulse took a nosedive, but she offered no further comment out loud. Brad may have searched the Coven's standing Book of Shadows but she was sure her mother's personal journal would offer a much more hopeful outcome to restoring fractured essences. Brianna felt a light pat on the back of her hands and looked up.

“By the way, I like your friend Tommy. He's funny and smart.”

“He means the world to me,” Brianna stated, picking up her fork and weaving circles on the tablecloth with it. “He was there when I had nobody else. He saw me through some really dark days.”

“It's hard to believe that he and Devlin are friends, though. They seem such polar opposites. How did they meet?”

“I introduced them to each other last night.”

Eileen's head whipped around.

“Are you positive? I was sure I heard Tommy tell Marla that they had met in Texas recently, during a business deal.”

Brianna's fork clattered to the table.

“Did you say Devlin lives in Texas?”

“No, I don't know where he lives. However, Marla said he told her he owns some big environmental firm—D.J. something.”

“D.J. Corporation,” Brianna stated, a sudden shiver lacing her spine.

“Yes, that's it. I understand from Marla, he owns three silver mines, a wildlife refuge, and an underwater habitat off the coast of Italy.” Her glance bounced off Brianna to the far side of the clearing. “He doesn't look like a millionaire, does he?”

No, just an arrogant bastard, Brianna thought, following Eileen's gaze. She studied the tall figure inching closer to their table, and then began to inspect the tablecloth beneath her fingers. Devlin Janus was D.J. Corporation. Why hadn't she seen it before? Hadn't he said he had rearranged a NASA meeting when they first met? And hadn't Tommy said earlier that Jake Rogers was in Florida for a NASA meeting? And now, here he was, being “outed” as a liar who had refused to do business with her. Why had he withheld his identity from her? Because he was an arrogant coward, that's why.

Her gaze flew to the chubby figure now standing alongside Devlin. Tommy had lied to her as well. He had kept Devlin's secret. Her heart lurched suddenly. My God, Tommy sold her company to Devlin. She bolted to her feet.

“What's wrong, Brianna? You've gone completely white.”

Brianna glanced down and inspected the tablecloth.

“Just tired. It's been a long day.”

Brianna heard another long sigh, and saw Eileen hop to her feet.

“I suppose I should apologize to Sally. It's not her fault I can't stomach her childish taunts. How about having breakfast with me in the Tea Room in the morning? We can catch up on the old days, and your life in Washington.”

Brianna nodded, watching as she strode from the table and began weaving in and out of bodies towards the Elders gathered on the far side of the grass. Reaching the group, she flung her arms around Sally and whispered something in her ear. Sally promptly returned the hug with a kiss on the cheek.

A plate suddenly swam in front of Brianna's face, and she recognized the smell immediately. Pumpkin. She pushed the plate away and sank back down in her chair. Devlin dropped the plate on the table, and sank down alongside her.
A bribe from the Gods?
her inner voice chided. Yum. A gift from Satan, you mean.

Devlin suddenly noticed her apathy.

“What's wrong? It's pumpkin pie—your favorite.” He signaled the plate, and Brianna felt the table jiggle as he settled his legs beneath it. “I'm famished. I'll eat and then we'll talk.” He ignored her silence and began slicing into a large wrapped crepe filled with red berries. “I forgot how good coven food is,” he stated. “This cranberry soufflé is top-notch. Marla is one hell of a cook.”

He popped another large chunk of the crepe in his mouth, and it took all of Brianna's will power not to snatch the plate, and fling it to the ground. She heard a brief purr from behind her chair and grimaced. He would eat, and then they would talk, she told Nicodemus. She intended to throw his lies in his face at the first possible moment, and then leave the clearing. And if her curses gave him indigestion, it was just what he deserved for lying to her. She heard a brief sneeze.

“Scat, you pesky cat!”

Devlin's frantic swing at Nicodemus had the cat diving away, and Brianna swallowing the lump in her throat. Was she about to cry over the loss of Devlin's friendship?
No, you'll miss the shivers of delight that come from his touch.
Shut up. She had been right about him as a child, and she was right about him now. He didn't deserve her friendship, or her body writhing in ecstasy beneath him. And she had stupidly made him her husband.
Well, do what you do best. Charm him into a false sense of security and then attack.
Great advice, she mused. And when I'm through shredding his character, every single member of the commune will know what a despicable bastard he still is after all these years.

Devlin pushed his plate back and indulged in an all-out stretch of his arm muscles.

“I have missed good food. I never realized it until just now.” His glance swung to Brianna who was staring at the nearby preserve in quiet contemplation. “Okay, spill what you know. I can feel your heightened energy over here. What have you discovered?”

Brianna's gaze swept his face, and he sensed her mind was still elsewhere.

“Not a thing, unfortunately—unless you call the catty bitchiness between Sally and Eileen something.”

“Bad blood there?” Devlin asked, tossing a glance over his shoulder.

“Bad vibes. Didn't you feel it between them?”

“No, I was too busy tuning into everyone's auras. They're clean, by the way, no sign of lying.”

“You're sure?”

“Positive—which means we've totally wasted today.”

“Maybe not. I know I haven't.”

Devlin leaned back against the slats of his chair, studying the downward tilt of her lips.

“Okay, but before you spill your news, let me run something by you first. Do you remember earlier when you thought the Guardians were angry at being sent from the circle?” A nod was all the response that Devlin got. “I think now, you were right. After all, why would they be angry at leaving? Their function is to serve and protect, like the perfect soldier. They don't dish out any energy—unless provoked. So, the only reason they'd be angry is if they had been instructed to stay in the circle by your mother.”

“Or her attacker.”

“No, I've had hours to think back on that moment. The shock waves the Guardians sent your way were meant to warn you they needed to stay, not go. And because you hadn't done a ritual in a while, you didn't get the message.”

“Because I'm such an idiot, you mean?”

“No, that's not what I meant, so can the sarcasm.”

“Then don't imply that I'm stupid.”

Devlin's chair hit the ground with a thud.

“Stop trying to pick a fight with me.”

“I'm not. I'm just saying you're not the only one capable of thinking things through.”

“Make your point, if you dare.”

“The point is, while I've been asking questions of everyone else today, I've not

asked you where you were and what you were doing when Mother collapsed.”

“I don't see how that ties into our investigation.”

“Don't you?” She began making lazy circles on the tablecloth with her fingernails, and Devlin got the feeling she was purposely trying to sever their aura connection for good. “No, I don't imagine you would,” she finally remarked. “By the way, I don't think I've asked you what you do for a living.”

Devlin's gaze narrowed. Now what had prompted that question? Had Tommy revealed his identity to Brianna? He studied Brianna's sour expression. No, she had learned who he was some other way. Eileen or Marla. And now she was seething with a quiet rage towards him.

“It's obvious you know the answer already, so why are you asking?”

“I just want to see how many lies you're prepared to tell before I have you banned from the community again.”

She rose from her chair, preparing to flee the table, and Devlin caught hold of her wrist.

“I don't give a damn what you say to the Elders about me. After all this time, what they think no longer matters. But I will not let your personal anger at me destroy any chance we have of finding a way to break the spell placed on your mother. Things would be far better if we could find her personal journal . . . are you sure you don't have it and don't want me to know? I'm having troubling reading your aura.”

Brianna unhooked his fingers from her wrist.

“I haven't found the damn journal,” she retorted. “But when I do, I won't be sharing it with you.”

Devlin's eyes glittered dangerously.

“Don't take that tone with me.” His fingers found her wrist again. “I need to see the journal. It's the key to solving this whole mess.”

Brianna twisted her wrist from his grasp again.

“Go to hell, Devlin. I have no intention of sharing Mother's journal with you, now or ever. And since I have no intention of ever speaking to you again—well, you get the picture.”

She strode from the table without a backward glance. As she hit the incline and disappeared into the darkness, Devlin muttered a curse beneath his breath. He should've come clean with Brianna right from the start. Now, he faced her as an enemy. And worse, without her trust, they stood no chance of finding a cure for her mother.

• • •

Crossing the footbridge, Brianna scrubbed her wet cheeks. It was idiotic to cry over a stupid argument. After all, she and Devlin had never really been friends in the first place.
But you hoped you could be. You hoped to snuggle against him, his hand caressing the curve of your thigh.
She stopped the thought mid-stream. See how empty our life has become? she addressed her ego. We're living on fairy-tale wishes and the lure of “what ifs.” No, she was on her own—like always. She brushed away a new set of tears. Devlin was right, though. Her mother's journal was the key to ending this charade, and now that she had both the amulet and Nicodemus, it wouldn't take long to identify the sinner and confront him or her face to face.

“Rrrr-oww.”

A flash of black shot by her, and then slowed to a walk as she stepped onto the mulched pathway. Pulling alongside the cat, she voiced her thoughts.

“It won't take Devlin long to start searching for Mother's journal, so how about you show me where the journal is?”

The cat shot off, leaving Brianna standing at the end of the path alone. A minute later, she saw him shoot through the wrought-iron gates on the outskirts of the Main Street Plaza and disappear. Bolting to catch up, she tried to keep his erratic scampering in sight as she jogged. When she reached the Main Street sidewalk, he was missing. And then he dashed out of the bushes in front of her, heading on a straight-line trajectory towards the library. Brianna switched directions, right behind him. Her mother was undeniably smart. What better place to hide a book than amongst hundreds of them?

Reaching the library steps, Brianna glanced over her shoulder. No sign of Devlin tailing her. That was encouraging.
Or pretty shitty,
her inner voice mocked. Annoyed at the thought, Brianna bolted up the steps and through the door. She had to retrieve the journal, and fast.

Rounding the reception desk, she caught the scent of sickly candle-wax, and slid to a halt. What now? She saw a flicker of light casting shadows on the ceiling on the other side of the bookshelf from her. She bit her lip nervously. I see it, she told Nicodemus. A stuttered purr wound around her ankles, urging her to tread cautiously. She followed the advice, reaching the other side of the shelves, and drawing in her breath as she saw the reading tables shoved aside and a chalk circle etched on the floor.

Brianna studied the candles placed at ninety degree angles around the circle. Someone had been extremely busy. Her gaze traveled the chalk markings. What did the circle represent? The candle placement could be a pyramid of folding gateways, but how did they fold in on themselves? She circled the formation, studying the alternating angles and spaces. The circle didn't appear to be finished, and worse, it didn't feel right. Her gaze latched onto the open book lying in the center of the circle. Her mother's journal! A trapdoor out? Or an invitation in? she wondered.