The Witch's Journey Read online

  I regret I won’t share in your life, but one day I’ll appear and speak of your father. We were deeply in love. I suspect that’s important to you. Keep safe and be happy, my beautiful daughter.

  With all my love,

  Your mother, Bronaugh

  Tears streamed down Angelique’s face at hearing the emotional words written by her birth mother and knowing how much she’d loved her.

  “There you have it,” Wolf said.

  Faolan gently took her in his arms.

  “These terrible beings killed my mother?” Angelique tearfully asked.

  Wolf nodded.

  “Did they cause the wound on my chest, too?”

  “No, Bronaugh used a charmed blade to make Odhran believe you were dead.”

  “When will this journey happen? How will I learn about these tasks?”

  “I have scrolls with the assignments, but the tasks can’t be done until the solstice. I’ll need to find the book written by your ancestors.”

  “Do you know what’ll happen if Faolan isn’t sent back to his time?”

  “I suspect it couldn’t be as vital as protecting you so you can do your part in saving the world,” Wolf sarcastically replied.

  “Are you willing to be my guardian, Faolan?”

  “You’d honestly question that, Angelique? I swear to be your guardian and protect you always.”

  “Take time to consider it,” Angelique replied.

  “I needn’t think on it further.”

  “It’s not something to promise lightly,” Wolf warned. “It’ll be dangerous and a sovereign guardian’s expected to fight alongside his witch during the final battle.”

  “You definitely can’t sign up for that,” Angelique argued.

  “I solemnly swear to protect you always,” Faolan affirmed.

  She looked at him grateful of his commitment but worried, too.

  “If it’s not till the solstice, where will you stay, Wolf? Don’t you need to eat?”

  “I do enjoy food on occasion. I’ll stay with you, provided I don’t have to listen to you…together.”

  “Come downstairs then, but how’ll we explain your presence?”

  “I’m only seen by those with magic.”

  “I can see you,” Faolan argued.

  “A guardian always has some magic—not the same as a witch, and certainly not a transcendent witch, but only a guardian can wholly capture a witch’s trust. Now lock the trunk; seal it with a protection spell.”

  “May I read the scrolls to discover what the tasks entail?”

  “You won’t want to know.”

  “They’re unpleasant?”

  “Moving through time isn’t always agreeable and some of what you must do won’t be easy.”

  “Was it unpleasant moving through time, Faolan?”

  “I felt light-headed, but thought it was because of the wound.”

  “He wasn’t the only one who traveled that night. I sense two others came through when the veil of time was opened. They’re demonic and will be searching for you and the others.”

  “That was weeks ago. Wouldn’t they have found me by now?”

  “You evidently maintain protection from Bronaugh’s spell. It’s said the human who raised you also protected you.”

  “Mom used crystals, burned sage and taught me to do that, as well as clearing auras. My pendant helps, too. Where are the other witches?”

  “Presently veiled by the third witch’s magic. You’ll meet them when your tasks are completed. You can’t start out till they return and they can’t return until your tasks are done.”

  “How…?”

  “There’s no sense trying to understand bending time’s boundaries.”

  “May I read the assignments?”

  “Just know you’ll journey to three different centuries and likely encounter peril.”

  “But we’d be together,” Faolan offered.

  “And you’ll be in danger because of me and my foolish summoning spell.”

  “I’m accustomed to danger, Angel.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “How’ll you explain your absence?” Newt asked.

  He, Faolan and Angelique sat talking over hot chocolate. It had been a week since they’d met Wolf. She’d filled Newt in on the impending journeys.

  “I’ll say I’m in Ireland finding information on my birth parents.”

  “That’s a decadent amount of whipped cream even for you, Angie,” Newt said.

  “I have a sweet tooth and I’m a little freakin’ stressed out, Newt.”

  “How do you feel, Faolan, about going through time but not back to your OWN time?”

  “I’m happy not to have to leave, Angel,” he said, not sounding particularly happy.

  Although he’d vowed to be her guardian, since he’d acted so relieved about the pregnancy test, they’d grown distant. They hadn’t made love since the unfinished time in the attic. She led him to believe she’d gotten her period. She despised being deceptive, but didn’t want him obligated to remain. Eventually he would go back.

  “You seem like you’re already in another time or on another planet, Angie. Are you still coming to my gallery exhibit? You also have the opening of the hospital wing. You’ll have to be Angelique there.”

  “I’ll be at both.”

  “You didn’t mention these things,” Faolan said.

  “I presumed you wouldn’t want to attend a stodgy hospital wing opening and thought Newt told you about his gallery event and you preferred not to go. Of course I’d like you to attend both.”

  “Perhaps you wouldn’t want to risk an uncivilized eighteenth-century pirate embarrassing you around crowds of people,” Faolan said.

  She stared. “That’s untrue. Where’s this coming from?”

  “So the honeymoon’s done? You two aren’t all over each other now?”

  Angelique met Faolan’s displeased eyes and felt a wave of nausea. She dizzily stood, rushed to the bathroom and barely made it. This was the first time she vomited. She’d need to see a doctor, get prenatal vitamins. She should’ve been on folic acid but it wasn’t as though she’d planned to get pregnant.

  “Are you well, Angel?” Faolan asked outside the door. His concern made her feel guiltier for deceiving him.

  She rinsed her mouth then went out.

  “Too many sweets.”

  He put his arms around her and she laid her head on his chest.

  “I don’t want to squabble, Angel. I liked it better when we were friendlier.”

  “Because most of that time we were being extra-friendly.”

  “You okay, Angie?” Newt said joining them. “You look pale.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She wasn’t sure which one looked the most concerned or the least convinced.

  “Have you had your yearly checkup without Genny prodding you?”

  “Newt, I had too much whipped cream, like you said. Now, I’d like you to take Faolan to find clothes. Dressy-casual for your exhibit. The hospital wing opening is black tie. Please assist him in getting everything he’ll need.”

  She passed Faolan her credit card. He didn’t seem agreeable, so Newt took it, looking like he’d be up for the task.

  “You’ll be very handsome in a tuxedo, Captain Mahoney. Newt has better fashion sense than me. Now, I’m just going to lie down.”

  Faolan took her hand and stared worriedly into her eyes.

  “I’m fine,” she repeated.

  *

  They left, though Faolan was reluctant. She did another pregnancy test and shook her head. She supposed after three positive tests this wasn’t going to be negative. She’d used magic to produce the negative test she’d shown Faolan. She’d already been reasonably certain she was pregnant. Her periods were regular; she’d never been late before.

  She put the positive test in the garbage then carried the bag straight outside to the bin. Each deception pulled her deeper into lies and corresponding guilt. But Faolan st
ared longingly at the sea every day. She wouldn’t force him into a life with her. It was bad enough he was to take part in these journeys. But if he never learned the truth, she could still send him back when the journeys were completed. She’d ensure he wouldn’t be part of this predicted battle.

  Inhaling the brisk air calmed her stomach more than her mind. Back inside, she jumped seeing Wolf.

  “I thought the attic was more to your liking?”

  “I sensed your discontent. What are you going to do, Ginger?”

  “About what?”

  “About being with child,” he replied nearly empathetically. She didn’t even ask how he knew.

  “How does time travel affect pregnancy?”

  “The second witch—Arianna, the fire witch—is with child. She’s been through time with no harm to her unborn child.”

  Angelique nodded.

  “You contemplate sending your guardian away when I suspect he’s the father.”

  “You suspect?”

  “How do I know how many men frequent your bed? I’ve been led to believe this time period has very few limits with regard to carnal desire.”

  “Faolan’s unquestionably the father, but he doesn’t know. I don’t want him to find out. He was given no choice in being here or really in being my guardian.”

  “You intend to continue this pregnancy?”

  “I don’t want to have an abortion—least of all with Faolan’s baby.”

  “You think he doesn’t have a right to know?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “But your feelings for him run deep; you don’t want him to remain with you forever anchored?”

  “Forever anchored. That’s exactly how he’d feel. To him an anchor would be worse than a ball and chain. You’re being very understanding.”

  “I see this weighs heavy on you. I’m not one to kick someone when they’re down. Besides, I’m thirteen hundred years old. You’re not the first witch to get into this predicament.”

  “It’s good to finally discuss this.”

  “Why don’t you tell your friend, the reptile?”

  “You’ve never even met Newt—and newts are actually amphibians.”

  She managed a smile.

  “It’s good to see that smile, Ginger.”

  “Thanks, Wolf.”

  “Don’t let others know I can be amicable.”

  “It’ll be another secret,” she said bursting into tears she’d been holding back.

  “Oh no, no, no no no! I don’t do well with a witch’s tears. They can cause sadness for others.”

  “I never heard that.”

  “I suspect there’s much you haven’t heard, Ginger. When the others return and your tasks are done, you’ll learn more.”

  “If I did sent Faolan back, could I request another guardian?”

  “The gods might be displeased but they’d assign another. Your own magic offers some protection, but you’ll need someone with strength of mind, brawn, weaponry prowess and a strong desire to protect you. Your pirate has all those. Sometimes gods assist and the three magical males upstairs might help.”

  “I know of Danhoul and Tristan’s magic, but Timothy possesses different magic.”

  “Yes, Haitian magik. Timothy is brother to Ainsley, the third witch. The Druid, Danhoul, is guardian to Alainn—the first witch. He’s also of Odhran’s bloodline, but he and the searcher, Tristan, have association with all three witches. We now wait for Ainsley, the earth witch, to remove her spell veiling the others, likely during the solstice, which is when you must leave.”

  “I’ve barely more than a week to decide what to do about Faolan.”

  “You’d rather make these journeys with Danhoul or Tristan perhaps.”

  “I wouldn’t rather, but…”

  “Men of any time don’t like to be domineered by a woman, but an eighteenth-century pirate won’t take it lightly…especially if he’s inherited any of his father’s temper. He was a man prone to violence. But now, you should rest.”

  *

  “Hey, Angie.” Newt’s call wakened her.

  “Hi, Newt,” she sleepily replied.

  “We’ve done the clothes shopping, arranged the tuxedo rental, have everything else. I was thinking maybe Faolan and I might have dinner and go out on the town. I just talked to Tristan. He and Danhoul are down for it. They’ll bring Timothy, too. Have you seen him? He’s absolutely gorgeous.”

  “Of course, Timothy was here for Thanksgiving. Yes, he’s very nice-looking. I really like him. I’m glad you’re taking Faolan out. He’s mostly been stuck with me all the time he’s been here.”

  “I doubt he sees it as being stuck with you. He’s crazy about you, Angie; talks about you all the time.”

  “Both of you enjoy your evening.”

  A minute later, Faolan video-called her.

  “Are you feelin’ better, Angel? I won’t leave you alone if you’re ill.”

  “I promise I’m not ill.”

  “You’re certain you don’t mind if I don’t come home till later?”

  He sounded like a henpecked husband.

  “I’m positive. Have a good time. Maybe not too good, but—never mind. Have fun. I’m glad you’re going out and Faolan, I lo…I look forward to hearing about it in the morning.”

  She quickly ended the call and threw the phone. She’d nearly told him she loved him, which was clearly against their unspoken rule of never saying those words. She laid her head on her pillow and wept.

  *

  “Sammy, your Irishman wants to be here, but you may prefer him in another bedroom?”

  Tristan’s voice woke her from a deep sleep. She shook her head. Timothy and Danhoul were steadying and half-carrying Faolan. Tristan and Newt waited by the door.

  “Great to see you all here in my bedroom! Glad I’m at least wearing pajamas. Faolan, you look a little worse for wear.”

  “Hello, my angel. I may have partaken a bit too heavily in drink.”

  She smiled. Even drunk, he looked sexy.

  “Will you puke if you sleep here?”

  “Puke?”

  “Spew.”

  “I’d not befoul my beautiful lady’s bed.”

  “Yes, Faolan, sleep here. Could you guys help me get his coat off?”

  “Maybe you could just use magic.” Danhoul smiled.

  “Maybe we all could but I suspect that combined magic would alert others we don’t want anywhere near us.”

  “I appreciate your assistance, but now I’d like to be alone with my angel.”

  They removed Faolan’s coat and boots, then left with Newt promising to lock the door.

  “Sleep with me, Angel,” he slurred.

  She lay beside him and he pulled her closer.

  “I want you.”

  “You’re very drunk!”

  “You think I cannot perform? It would take seas of whiskey, oceans of ale to make me unable when I’m near you, Angel.”

  “Charming even when drunk, Captain.”

  “You rule my mind, heart and body. I hunger for you. My galleon wants to be moored in your harbor, Angelique. Ever only in your harbor.”

  She smiled and he stared, trying to focus his eyes.

  “Do you feel the same?”

  “Of course, Faolan.”

  He grinned happily but was soon asleep and snoring, which she’d never heard him do before.

  *

  Faolan moaned and put the pillow over his head when she opened the curtains.

  “It’s past noon. Take this Tylenol, have a shower and show me your new clothes.”

  “I’d rather shower, rid you of your garments and return to this bed.”

  “Maybe later.”

  His expression grew serious. “You’re avoidin’ intimacy, Angelique. Are your courses not finished?”

  “Now that I’m aware how serious you are in not wanting to risk the possibility of a child, the only way to ensure that is celibacy.”

  “You no longer b
urn for me then?”

  “Of course I do, but…”

  “We’ll continue using sheaths? I wouldn’t wish to end our intimacy, Angelique.”

  “Condoms are only about ninety-eight percent effective. By your relief at the negative pregnancy test, I doubt you’d want to risk that two percent.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re angry because I overdrank?”

  “I’m not, Faolan, truly.”

  “You’re tellin’ me you want to discontinue the physical part of our relationship? We’re to go through time together, complete these tasks as friends or…”

  “Maybe I’ll just send you back…”

  “By all that’s bloody holy, woman, I’m goin’ with you on these quests. I have an accursed throbbin’ head. I’ll shower, have coffee, then we’ll discuss this.”

  She knew she’d avoid it like everything that brought her unease.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “You look beautiful,” Faolan said seeing her dressed for Newt’s exhibit. She wore a short black dress, heels and her mom’s pearls, a little makeup and her hair pulled to one side. Her pendant was pinned inside her bra.

  “And you look very handsome, Faolan.”

  He was dressed in a grey sports coat, light blue shirt, grey tie and black pants.

  “Newt suggested the shirt.”

  “It looks amazing with your eyes.”

  “Do you know how much I want to remove your frock and…”

  “Faolan, we’ll be late.”

  “Angelique, we will need to speak about this. Avoidin’ it won’t resolve our disparity.”

  “I despise being out somewhere listening to couples bicker. Let’s just try to be affable for Newt tonight.”

  “You think we cannot speak without arguin’?”

  She tried to avoid Faolan’s wounded look as he opened the door for her.

  *

  “Wine?” the server at the gallery asked.

  “Thank you.” Faolan took a glass and passed it to her.

  Angelique shook her head. “No thanks.”

  “You’re not drinkin’? You like wine and we’re here to celebrate Newt’s accomplishments.”

  “I have a bit of a headache. Wine wouldn’t help.”

  They walked around observing Newt’s exhibited work. She took pride in how exceptionally talented he was and the wide variety of paintings he displayed. Rounding a corner, a woman smiled and waved to Faolan. He guiltily turned away.