The Keepers: Archer (16 page)

“Sienna?”

She blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog that lurked.

He helped her to sit up and handed her more water. “Are you okay?”

“It worked,” Sienna said, her voice croaky and merely a murmur. “They’ve left but Lexi’s in pain and she’s alone.”

Declan cursed, a clear indication of his hatred for any woman, especially a woman of their kind, to be hurt at the hands of Warrick. Another score to settle. “If she’s alone it means they’ve killed her Keeper.”

“If Warrick’s killed her Keeper then he has added powers,” Sienna warned.

Archer met the cold glare in his brother’s eyes. “Go, I’ve got this.”

Declan nodded. “You two iron out our plan to move Mason. Once that’s done, we’re thrashing out a new plan on how to deal with his delinquent brother. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“The stone,” Sienna added. “Don’t forget the stone.”

“Chances are Warrick has it.”

“I don’t know. She would have used the stone to channel me. It means she might still have it.” Sienna wiped the towel across her clammy forehead. “Please be careful. I don’t sense her danger anymore but we have no idea what Warrick’s up to.”

Seeing her tight frown, the worry etched across her face, Declan stepped forward and pulled Sienna into his arms. “We’ll be fine. You did great, Miss Witchy. You’re making me think twice about messing with you.”

Sienna smiled and watched them go.

“Are you okay?” Archer asked turning her toward him. He sensed the lessening of the tension, the lack of fight, the beginning of exhaustion. A given after a channelling session. Even for a powerful witch like Sienna.

“I’m fine. I need a shower. I’m drenched.”

He drew her into his arms and held her. “Declan’s right. You did great. You saved Lexi’s life.”

“But not her Keeper’s.”

“We don’t know that for sure. My brothers will have answers for us soon.”

She pulled away and headed for the door. “I’m going to shower and then we need to find Rose.”

“While you shower, I’m going to make some calls to warn the other three Keepers and their witches. If Warrick’s struck once, it’s a given that he’ll strike again.”

Rose was ready and waiting for them when they arrived at her cottage. She stood outside, the image of a pentagram drawn in the sand around her. In one hand, she held a tattered book, yellow from age. Her other hand clasped four locks of hair in varying colours and length, hair belonging to the witches who harboured the four precious stones, no doubt. Although Rose appeared calm, worry lined her features.

“Rose?” Archer said softly, careful not to startle her. He’d had enough experience to know that startling a witch amidst a witchy moment was never a good idea.

“Gran, you’ve already cast the circle. Were you waiting for us?” Sienna asked, approaching her grandmother. She shouldn’t be surprised. Rose had always had a keen sense for when one of their witches were in trouble.

Rose looked up, frowning. “I knew you’d come.” Without offering more, she carefully placed the four locks of hair in the centre of the pentagram, handed Archer the book, and held out her hand for her granddaughter. “We need to protect the witches who harbour the stones.”

“Lexi’s already been attacked.”

“I know. But they didn’t get her stone.”

Rose gestured to the pentagram etched in the sand. Placed strategically within the symbol were all four stones.

Sienna gasped. “You’ve already summoned the stones?”

Rose nodded. “They’re in danger, and you’ll need them to open the Grimoire.”

How the older witch knew of their discussion over breakfast was anyone’s guess.

“Warrick won’t know that we have the stones, but he’ll still go after the witches who harbour them. Come,” Rose said to Sienna, “they’re going to need all the help they can get.”

“The other three witches are fine, Rose. I’ve just spoken with them,” Archer said.

“Let’s keep it that way,” Rose said, reaching for Sienna’s hands.

Silence fell and Archer stepped back to watch them, familiar with the scene. Together the two witches stood in the centre of the pentagram, holding each other’s wrists above the four locks of hair.

For a long while, they stood in complete silence, eyes closed, breathing quietly as they made their connection.

They looked incredible together, a force to be reckoned with. So in control, so focused, so connected and the power that emanated off them was breathtaking.

Their sudden gentle chanting snapped the silence, bringing Archer’s attention to the ceremony at hand. He hoped the protection spell worked. He hated the idea of anyone being hurt at the hands of Warrick Brogan, more so if they harboured the four stones that would unlock everything the warlock sought.

The air grew warmer and a gust of wind swept through the trees, whistling softly as it unsettled the peaceful forest.

Fire, Sienna’s central power. Strong, if tapped into alone, but lethal if channelled with Rose.

He took a deep breath of dry air, almost coughing at the lack of moisture. Stifling, hot, arid. A contrast to the cool fall air they were used to. With the wind, came more heat, and he glanced at the two witches still quietly chanting over the pentagram.

A moment later, the locks of hair burst into flames on the floor, sizzled for a few seconds and died out, leaving behind the acrid smell of burnt hair.

The two women grew quiet and a moment later, two pairs of eyes flew open.

“It’s done,” Rose said, piercing Archer with a confident stare.

He nodded and went to them. “We’ve alerted their Keepers. That and the protection spell should keep them safe.”

“Warrick’s determined.” Rose gathered the four stones and stepped out of the circle. She straightened her arm, and a moment later, the sand shifted, covering the remains of the pentagram.

Never one for leaving signs of witchcraft.

“Gran, come inside, I’ll make you some tea,” Sienna said, reaching for her grandmother’s arm. They went inside together, and Sienna quickly assembled the tea.

The faint aroma of herbs wafted through the kitchen, piercing several memories Archer had of growing up in Rose’s kitchen. Her brews and potions had always fascinated him, the power they wielded even more so. Large windows overlooked their house in the distance, the massive spans of lawn and forest that separated them. He’d often invited Rose to stay in the house but she’d remained adamant the cottage was her home. He could see why. It was homey, warm, comforting, everything a grandmother’s house should feel like.

The older woman looked tired, but less worried. “Lexi might walk without a Keeper.”

Another death. Another Keeper. Another witch exposed.

A thought that tugged at all Archer’s protective instincts. He nodded at Rose. “We don’t know that yet, Rose. My brothers will call as soon as they get to Lexi.”

Something shifted inside Archer, cold and determined. Warrick Brogan’s days of funfairs and candyfloss were over. He’d been marked the moment he’d killed Sarah. Now Lexi and her Keeper.

They had a score to settle and settle it they would.

He just hoped like hell that he’d be able to protect Sienna in the process.

Archer glanced at Sienna as she poured tea for her grandmother and filled her in on the plan to move Mason. She wore her hair pulled back into a ponytail, a style that scraped years off her age and lessened the impact of her fiery red hair. She’d opted for skin tight jeans, long black boots, and a suede black jacket pulled over an olive green t-shirt. She looked elegant and graceful as she slipped into the vacant seat beside Rose. It was hard to reconcile the tiny woman in front of him with the power he knew she was capable of.

“Lifting the seal on Mason’s current tomb will take a lot of strength and power but together we could do it,” Rose said.

“Are you sure you can both pull this off without either one being hurt in the process? It’s a powerful spell.” Archer felt the irritated glare shot his way but he ignored Sienna.

“We’ll be fine, Archer,” Rose said with a half smile. “We witches aren’t as feeble as you think.”

Archer had never considered either of the Beckham witches as feeble. No, that word was the complete opposite of what they stood for. “We still have to figure out how to get Mason out. Neither of us will be able to enter the tomb.”

Sienna grimaced at the idea of moving a desiccated man, and Archer smiled. The final image of Mason had haunted her since the day they’d spelled him.

“What about Declan’s suggestion about using Tara?”

“You shot Declan down with that idea,” Archer said. “Why the change of heart?”

“Lack of options. She doesn’t usually like to get involved with anything magical but she’d do it if Declan asked her to.”

Rose fell quiet, mulling over her tea. A moment later, she looked up. “It’s a full moon tomorrow. We can draw energy from the moon, which will help us lift the spell. Once the door’s open, Tara can get in, get him out, and we can move him to his new lodgings.” She smirked, holding up her teacup in mock salute. “It may not be the Ritz but it’ll do.”

****

Sienna flashed Archer a satisfied grin when the lock on the door to the tunnel burst open. If the map to the Bennett estate was accurate, the old storage rooms waited at the end of the gloomy tunnel. Standing back, she watched as Archer shoved the door open.

“All these years we’ve lived here, explored these forests as children, and only once stumbled upon the entrance to the tunnel,” Sienna said.

“Our parents probably had something to do with that.”

Finding the entrance to the tunnel had been a challenge, as it hadn’t been used in years. Overgrown and hidden, perfect for their quest to keep Mason hidden during transit, but creepy nonetheless.

She winced at the dark, gloomy tunnel, and wrinkled her nose at the musty smell. It had been sealed for years, starved of air, and home to God knows which type of creatures.

Archer scanned her expression and smiled. “Frightened?”

Yes. “No. More like not in the mood to have an army of Incy Wincies crawling on me.”

“You’re happy to fight off warlocks and warriors yet you’re afraid of a few spiders?”

“They might be hungry. Or hairy.” She couldn’t think which was worse. She shuddered, and Archer chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“You’re such a girl.”

“I am a girl. Now do your man thing and go check the tunnel.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

Sienna nibbled her bottom lip, eyeing the tunnel, the cobwebs, and the darkness that went on forever in the distance. “No. I’ll wait out here.”

Archer smiled, drawing her closer. “My fierce warrior witch is afraid of spiders.”

“And dark, gloomy tunnels that haven’t been used for decades. Besides, with your super speed power thingy, you can be in and out of the tunnel in a flash. I, on the other hand, move at the pace of a normal person.”

“There’s nothing normal about you, Sienna.”

He tilted her chin, and she had no choice but to look at him. Despite the humour reflected in his eyes, he gave off a heated intensity that stirred an instant butterfly sensation in her stomach. The man practically gave off sparks. “You’re beautiful – even when you’re scared,” Archer said, a sexy grin playing on his lips. His hands slid up her arms, into her neck, and dark green eyes shifted with amusement.

Sienna drew in a deep breath, all too aware of the inner tingly sensations that were far too distracting. How he managed to stir such a wicked, delicious awareness in her in the same conversation involving spiders was anyone’s guess.

“Yeah, yeah. Stop delaying the inevitable.”

He kissed her softly, silencing her weak attempt to cover her fear, and Sienna sighed against his lips, savouring the sweet moment.

Pulling back, Sienna held out a hand toward the tunnel. A moment later, several lanterns that hung from rusty nails in the roof lit up in a steady stream of candlelight.

Archer shot her a smile that made her heart lurch. “Thanks, witchy.”

“I’ll wait for you here.”

“You’ll be okay?”

“Just peachy.”

“Call out if you need me.”

With another quick kiss planted on unsuspecting lips, he flashed her another sexy smile and entered the tunnel.

Sienna watched him retreat into the tunnel. All confidence and strength. He cocked his head in her direction, gave her a final wink, and vanished. Something stirred inside, and she smiled.

Her man. Her warrior.

As though to mock her back into reality, a small black spider came sailing down its web spun from the roof at the entrance to the tunnel. Sienna stepped back, unable to suppress the slight shudder. Ugh.

Turning around, Sienna crossed the dry scatterings of twigs and leaves, her feet crunching against the floor debris, and made her way to the edge of the river. Her gaze travelled along the gentle ripples of water that resembled a mirror reflecting a forest of trees in the distance. The silence comforted her rather than unnerved her, and Sienna settled beside a cluster of rocks at the edge of the water, enjoying the tranquillity. It was hard to reconcile the peace she found here with the craziness her life had become in the last few days. When taking in the breathtaking beauty around her, it was impossible to believe that warlocks, warriors and other supernatural creatures lurked nearby, searching for every opportunity to wreak havoc. It was something that they constantly lived with. Their worries and battles were so different from the ordinary humans surrounding them and Sienna had often wondered what it would be like to be one of them.

To worry about simple, every day things as opposed to fending off power-hungry, greedy warlocks and their warriors.

With a soft sigh, her head fell back against the rock and she closed her eyes, enjoying the sunlight on her face, the sound of the water gently lapping in the nearby distance, and the absolute stillness of nature. A rustle of leaves sent a ripple of warning through Sienna and she opened her eyes, unmoving. She listened, her senses in prime form.

More rustling, more movement, followed by the sickening realization that she wasn’t alone. Archer? No one else knew they were here. Sienna slowly inched onto her feet, careful to remain hidden and silent. Peering around the rocks, she looked for signs of her visitor. When silence greeted her pounding heart, she blew out air. It must have been one of the many forest animals that called the forest home.

A soft, low growl above her had her freezing, the quiet sound sending a shiver of warning jolting down her spine. She drew in a level breath of air, needing a moment to settle the bolt of panic taking hold of her gut.

Slowly, not to alarm her visitor, Sienna looked up. Her breath caught as she saw the large wolf standing on the rock above her. Grey fur of coat, black eyes, and white canines flashed behind upturned lips. He growled again, perched, ready to pounce if she moved.

Oh, God.

Black eyes met green ones in a moment of unspoken challenge that had her heart rearing with warning. The eyes of a wolf that spelled everything evil.

Archer. Archer!

He’d sense her danger, be quick to get to her, but she knew that one pounce and the wolf would be on her.

A second growl behind her had Sienna reeling around. Horror struck another chord within her when she saw two more wolves circling her. Where’d they come from? She hadn’t even heard their approach.

Knowing her fight would be a hopeless one, she drew on the energy brewing within, reaching for the only part of her she knew would keep her alive. Her powers.

A deep, scary emptiness greeted her and she drew in a deep breath as weakness washed over her. Panic rose, fought with her grasp on composure, and she glanced frantically at each wolf. And then the realization hit her. First a cold trickle of fear that quickly turned into raw horror as she saw the small brown bags neatly tied around each wolf’s neck.

Ashwood.

A powerful herb that bound a witch’s powers. Not often used or well known, but clearly, whoever had sent the wolves after her knew all about Ashwood and the affect it would have on a witch. They also knew that the only way to activate the debilitating actions of the dreadful herb was to place it in a triangular form around a witch.