Temple of Indra's Witch Page 4

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” I asked.

  “I don’t know what ye’re on about.”

  “I can’t believe you have the audacity to lie to me right now.”

  “Hardly?” Alana was all faux lightness and innocence now. If I hadn’t seen the book for myself, I might have believed her.

  I walked over to her, looking directly into her eyes. “I want you to know that I know what you were up to.”

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

  “No,” I replied honestly. “It’s supposed to make you realize that I’m not stupid.”

  “Whatever,” Alana scoffed. “We’re out of here.”

  She stormed across the hall to her bedroom and I took the book from behind my back and set it on the desk. I obviously needed to talk to Cullen about a new hiding spot.

  I headed back downstairs and found him seated at the table under a turquoise umbrella. The air was heavy with the scent of honeysuckle. Birds twittered, and Alana’s friends were laughing, eating and just plain soaking up the sun.

  He as I walked toward him.

  “Aeval, where’d you go? I made ye that slushy drink ye like. It’s starting to melt.”

  I took the margarita he held out and chugged it. My head still hurt but it was getting better by the second.

  “Whoa! Are ye all right, love?”

  A small black swift perched on a low branch near the table, making jerky, robotic movements with its head. It reminded me of the raven that had stalked the Mysterious InkSpot. It was much less intimidating and yet it still seemed ominous.

  I could hear Alana’s footsteps marching right behind me.

  “Well that was quite the holy show.” she hissed.

  I turned to face her and her friends passed us by and went to the far side of the garden.

  “You stole my book,” I threw back at her.

  “I did no such thing.”

  “Don’t lie to me, young lady.”

  “Ye’re a big snoop.” Her eyes shone with tears. I almost believed her.

  “I wasn’t snooping. Your door slammed and I opened it to check on you and there was my book—” I lowered my voice and looked at Cullen. “Rochus’s book…on her bed. I don’t even know how she found it.”

  “Who slammed my door?”

  “The wind.”

  “Ha! Nice excuse—and who is Rochus?”

  “Never mind that young lady. If you didn’t take it then tell me how it got there?”

  I could feel Cullen’s eyes shifting from me to the guests.

  I took a deep breath and reached for calm. “Alana, send your friends home. We’ll discuss this after they leave.”

  “Hump off! I’m through talkin’. I looked in my room after ye freaked out, and there was no book anywhere! Ye’re gone in the head.”

  “That’s because I put it back on your father’s desk after I kicked you and your friends out of the study.”

  “Whatever. I hope I never turn in to ye.”

  “That’s enough, young lady. Ye’ve just grounded yerself for a month,” Cullen said.

  She paused, turning to stare at him. Her eyes were on him so intently that if they were laser beams he would have been full of holes. “Ye’re takin’ her side. Big surprise.”

  I swallowed, shaking my head. I wanted to cry but kids were like wild dogs, they could sense fear.

  “There was no book in my room,” she whined.

  “Come now,” Cullen said, slamming his bottle down on the table. “Maybe seein’ the book will jog ye’re very, very short memory.”

  We marched up the stairs and down the hall. Cullen and Alana leading the way like enraged bulls. Cullen paused as we passed by Alana’s room. “What the—,”

  Her room looked like a tornado had struck, just the way I’d left it.

  “Ye see! She did this. She tore it apart and I just cleaned it this mornin’.”

  Cullen turned an eyebrow up at me, “Well, perhaps it was for good cause.”

  I moved past them and headed for the study. I slapped my hand down on a book.

  “Where is it?”

  Cullen came up behind me.

  I turned to Alana. “Where did you put it—it was right here.” I said, picking up a copy of Moby Dick that sat on the edge of the desk in the place where I had left Rochus’s spell book.

  “Told ye,” Alana gloated.

  Cullen shot her a look. “C’mere ’till I tell ye! What were ye doin’ in here anyway?”

  “Showin’ Seamus the drawings of the castles ye worked on. We’re learnin’ about some of them in school.”

  “You’re lying—like you lied about smoking.”

  “How …?” She paused. “Ye read my diary! How could ye?” Alana turned to her father. “In fairness, it was one bloody puff, Da, and I didn’t even inhale. I was gonna tell you—I swear it—but I knew ye’d tell her and she’d lose her shite.”

  He sighed, looking confused and disappointed in both of us.

  “Hannah was here the whole time. Call her in and ask her if ye must.”

  “Hannah would lie for you. Tell your father how I caught you and your friends drinking from his flask. You’d best get that back, too,” I said, stepping towards her. To my horror, she raised a shaking hand and slapped me.

  I hadn’t expected the assault. I could feel my cheek redden with the imprint of her hand but the real pain came from my heart as it cracked in two.

  “What the hell is the matter with ye?” Cullen demanded of Alana furiously. His neck pulsed in a dangerous fashion.

  “She’s off her nut!”

  “And so ye think ye have the right to hit, now?” he said.

  I raced down the hall, back into her room, and dropped to my knees to look under the bed. Then I began to furiously scour her drawers and closet once again.

  “Sophia. Stop, luv,” Cullen said, coming to my side.

  “It was right here,” I cried.

  “Here we go,” Alana mumbled.

  He turned to Alana. “Did ye take it from the desk, young lady, and replace it with Moby Dick?”

  “How could I? I left before ye and went straight into my room.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” I admitted. There was the possibility that she’d switched it after I went down the stairs, but I could tell when she lied.”

  Cullen walked out of the room. I could hear his footsteps moving away to the study and I knew what he was doing. He was checking to see if the book was locked back up in his desk where we kept it.

  He walked back in the room.

  “Was it there?” I questioned.

  He nodded.

  “It wasn’t—it couldn’t have been. I left it on the edge of the desk.” I plopped down on her bed. Tears slipped from my eyes. “I’m not crazy.” How could I have mistaken a copy of Moby Dick for the spell book? They didn’t even resemble each other. Was I that tired? Was it the migraine?

  I reached out for Alana’s wrist, but she wrenched it away.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  “Please don’t be hurtful. I know you’re upset with me. I invaded your privacy. I get it.”

  “Ye accused me of stealin’…in front of my friends…at my birthday party.”

  So now I was allowed to acknowledge it was her birthday. “I’m sorry. I thought—I could have sworn.”

  “Alana, don’t make her beg,” Cullen chided. “It’s not like yer innocent in all of this, and she’s not well. Tell yer friends to leg it and my flask had best be behind the bar when I get down there, or it’s yer arse.”

  Alana grabbed her duffle bag from the closet and blew out a sigh. “I’m outta here.” She began shoving random things in it, including her now-exposed diary.

  “Ye’re not goin’ anywhere, young lady. Ye’re sixteen years old and ye need to have a little compassion right now.”

  “Oh right, she’s the bloody victim.”

  Móraí popped up in the doorframe as if out of thin air. “I
’ll take her to my place if ye like, Cullen, so everyone can calm down.”

  I looked up, embarrassed that anyone had overheard the drama.

  “She’s fine here,” Cullen answered.

  Móraí stood there for a moment and I could feel her judgment wash over me.

  “I’ll just be on my way then. I sent Alana’s friends home already. I hope ye don’t mind my boldness, but the shoutin’ was gettin’ loud and the windows were open.”

  “Thank you,” I said, wiping away my tears.

  Cullen’s grandmother was an intricate part of our lives. With Cullen’s brother, her favorite grandson, Liam, gone. I knew she was only here so often because she was lonely. Still, it could get annoying and occasionally it felt like she had radar and knew just when to fly in, stir the pot and jet away—the good guy—usually with our daughter in tow.

  “I’m goin’ with her and if ye say no—I’ll just run away.”

  Cullen opened his mouth to argue but I held up my hand.

  “Let her go, Cullen, please,” I whispered. “She’s right to be mad. I flew at her like a bat outta hell.”

  Móraí put her arms around Alana and I could hear them descend the stairs.

  Cullen moved to my side, dropping a kiss on my temple. “Let’s go, too, Aeval. If Alana’s smokin’ and taking wee nips from the flask then no doubt there will be some stragglers after raidin’ the liquor cabinet.”

  “I definitely did at her age.” I agreed. I recounted a story from my youth, to ease the tension, one involving my Gigi’s homemade peach wine and a public pool.

  Cullen laughed his way down the stairs. “Let’s hope she takes after me, then, ‘cause the worst thing I did was steal my Da’s pipe a time or two.”

  “I hardly believe that.”

  “It’s true. I missed my rebellious years—Liam was in trouble enough for the both of us.” We both quieted for a moment at the mention of Liam’s name. Then Cullen cleared his throat. “Anyhow, kids will be kids, right? Isn’t that what you’ve always told me?”

  I nodded.

  He was holding my hand, his grip sure and strong, toting me along until we reached the settee, where he pulled me down beside him. “What’s really going on?” He brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, sending my pulse skittering. “Why are ye comin’ down so hard on the lass? She’s a brat to be sure, but she’s not done anythin’ that either of us hasn’t.”

  “I know.”

  He stood and walked to the kitchen, turning on the kettle before returning to his place beside me.

  “Maybe ye should see a doctor. Ye’ve been really irritable lately. And not to come down on ye but ye’ve been poppin’ nerve pills this week like candy and drinkin’ more than I’ve ever known ye to, Aeval.”

  “I don’t need to see a doctor. I know what the problem is.”

  “Ye do?”

  My stomach clenched. I wasn’t sure how Cullen was going to take this. “I should have told you.”

  Cullen raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Better late than never.”

  I moistened my lips and nodded. “Remember when Madam Brun was in Ireland.”

  “Of course I do…that was after we tried to return the sapphire to the temple…when Leslie lost Liam’s….” He paused, practically choking on his brother’s name.

  “Baby…yes.” I nodded. It was hard for either of us to think of Leslie’s predicament, since we’d been the ones to introduce her to Cullen’s brother, Liam, a Priest, never dreaming that he was actually a womanizing homicidal maniac.

  “So what’s the big secret?” He said, getting up as we heard the kettle switch off.

  “Wait!” I whispered with vehemence. I felt vulnerable. I hated feeling that way.

  Cullen looked worried and so he sat back down.

  “I need to tell you this now while I have the courage—it’s about…” I broke off, frowning, feeling like an idiot.

  “About what?” he demanded tersely.

  “Madam Brun read my cards that day and she acted strangely so I went to see her up after we were married. I was pregnant with Alanna at the time, although I didn’t know it, and I hadn’t been feeling myself. Anyway, she was the first person to tell me I was pregnant. She said she’d known it the day she saw me at the bakery. She also told me to have an abortion.”

  “She told ye what?”

  “I know. It sounded crazy to me as well.” My breath caught in my throat.” She said that we would have a little girl and that she would do bad things. Cullen, I didn’t think it would be possible.”

  “Of course it wasn’t possible—its rubbish, love. So Alana’s smokin’ and angry. That’s no cause to abort. What is wrong with that woman?”

  “There’s more,” I whispered.

  His face fell and he walked to the bar and poured himself a stiff drink. “There always is.” He paced the room.

  “She said specifically that the girl I carried was destined to be very powerful—too powerful. She warned me…”

  “I can’t do this right now.” He lowered his gaze. “I’m gonna head on.”

  “Where?”

  “I’ll check on Alana. You lie down for a rest, Aeval.” He looked up at the clock and then at me. His face was strained. “I’ll be back in two hours.”

  “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you but I don’t think that—”

  “Please, Sophia!” he snapped. “Later.”

  He turned and left, closing the side door behind him.

  Chapter Ten

  The Witch and Her Men

  Hunedoara, Romania, 1494

  The east wing of the castle had fewer windows and backed onto a heavily forested area which meant that it lacked access to sunlight, which was perfectly fine with Alexandra. It made it easier to slip away unnoticed in the shadows. She’d made this walk many times as a young girl, escaping to her lover’s chambers. A man of God was hardly free to carry on with a young girl in public.

  She quickly and quietly moved through the hallways, thinking of the first evening she’d spent here at the castle twenty years earlier. With her father gone, she’d been ready to live a happy life. She’d looked forward to practicing the art of magic with her mother in their home in the woods but her mother had had other plans. She’d been all too eager to move on and leave their humble accommodations behind. An ambitious woman, she’d married and moved into her new husband, Gyorgy Stoltz’s chambers within a week. Alexandra had all but been ignored after that, until she met the raven-haired boy in this very hallway.

  He was one of the first people in the castle to befriend her. They spent every day together and even some of the nights but as she got older, her mother made it clear that it was unacceptable for Alexandra to carry on with a servant.

  Her mother was a powerful and controlling witch. That, alone should have been enough to make Alexandra hate her, but it wasn’t until her mother had cursed Alexandra’s lover, the raven-haired boy, that Alexandra had really learned to hate. After that, all of her focus went into learning the dark arts—under the cloak of secrecy of course.

  And now she was finally in the position she’d waited for—she would exact her revenge against everyone who had ever wronged her, including her own mother.

  Alexandra came to the front of the Priest’s door. She needed him on her side, to rouse the crowd when the time came and to support her step-father the magistrate in condemning the reddish wolf. She hadn’t been inside his bed chamber in a long time, not since before Costin’s birth. Back then, the rumors had grown out of control and they’d agreed to part ways amicably. But Alexandra would enlist his help, no matter the cost, and while he wasn’t free to marry, he still had a carnal appetite to rival any man, which meant he was easy to manipulate.

  Gathering her courage, she glanced at her reflection in a piece of armor hanging on the wall. Pushing her hair out of her face, she pinched her cheeks to bring up a blush. She was much older than the last time he’d taken her but she was sure he’d be just as willing. Before she
could change her mind, Alexandra brought her hand to the door and knocked.

  Chapter Eleven

  Unbelievable

  Dublin, Ireland, 2031

  I climbed the stairs and lingered in the doorway to Alana’s room.

  My eyes were drawn to the flowers on her nightstand—a bouquet of yellow roses. I vaguely remembered seeing them during my tantrum but it hadn’t occurred to me that they were new. I walked to the nightstand, glancing at the open doorframe to make sure I was still alone, and inhaled deeply, pondering whether or not to open her card. I’d already invaded her privacy but she was only sixteen. What if they were from a boy, what if they were from a man—a depraved sex fiend? It was my job to protect her. I ripped open the envelope reading the message post haste.

  Móraí. Of course. Who else spoiled a teenage girl with roses? I paused for a moment, confused as to when she’d brought them. They’d been on her nightstand before Móraí arrived. I shook my head, not sure of anything anymore. A slight feeling of jealousy took hold and I threw the note down, wanting to tear it into a million pieces. If I really dug deep then I had to admit I was jealous of Móraí and Alana’s relationship. They were growing closer while we were growing apart.

  A breeze blew in through Alana’s window and the floral scent permeated my nostrils. Gigi hated roses, preferring wild flowers. I couldn’t agree more and yet the roses were lovely to look at. Flowers were a lot like children. They needed love and light and a delicate hand to tend to them.

  What had I been thinking, overreacting the way I had? She needed guidance and love, not accusations and mistrust.

  I tucked the note back into the envelope thinking of ways to apologize.

  I walked the ten feet back to my own room and crawled onto my bed.

  My mind was spinning—only a man would have the ability to nap right now. Lord, I could use a drink.

  No. I chastised myself. Like Cullen said, drinking had become my crutch.

  I took a deep breath instead and tried to relax. I’d just changed the sheets and they smelled clean and fresh. I stared at my night table where two cozy mystery novels and my ereader sat.