The Witch's Journey Page 18

  “I’m sorry for your sorrows, Danhoul. That must be difficult?”

  “It is and yet, I still appreciate the time I do get to spend with the woman I love. She’s as rare and special as your lady…and has magic, too.”

  “She’s one of the women who lives in the upper apartment?”

  “Aye. Her name’s Alainn,” Danhoul said. “Since Samantha has magic, couldn’t you find a way to be together?”

  “It was magic that brought us together. She summoned me,” Faolan admitted.

  Danhoul looked around and put his hand up in warning.

  “I sense something dark. Come back to my apartment. We’ll continue this conversation there.”

  “Do you have whiskey? I feel I must partake,” Faolan said.

  “Tristan has a good supply. Darius and Killian, as well.”

  “Where are they now? They and their wives have been away since before I arrived.”

  “I expect they’ll return soon,” Danhoul said looking around him suspiciously.

  “What is it?”

  “You can’t feel that?”

  “I admit I have a sense of foreboding.”

  They walked without speaking for a while but Danhoul was definitely making Faolan uneasy. He glanced around him and made an odd motion with his hands.

  “What are you doing?” Faolan asked.

  “Placing protection around you. I think it’s you they’re interested in.”

  “Who?”

  “Demons, maybe. I can’t tell. If they’re after you, it might be to get to Samantha. She told me her name is Angelique, but do you know her birth name?”

  “You should ask her.”

  “Faolan, I need you to trust me.”

  “She’s recently learned her birth name’s Ailish, but what difference does her name make?”

  “We’ve been searching for the fourth transcendent witch. All four have names that begin with A.”

  “People often change their names.”

  “Of course, but I’ve been livin’ in the same location for some time and I didn’t know Angelique had magic, nor did Tristan. There must be somethin’ about her that disallows others to see her magic, which is fortunate if those with darkness are lookin’ for her.”

  “She has a locket with a Celtic triquetra within.”

  “Does she?” Danhoul said, clearly intrigued.

  Faolan nodded. “Her birth mother insisted she never take it off.”

  “That might offer protection, but doesn’t explain why I can’t detect her magic.”

  “She says water grounds her and I’ve seen it heal her.”

  “The fourth transcendent witch is a water witch,” Danhoul said.

  “She’s apparently had two mishaps where she died within water but was revived,” Faolan said.

  “Seriously? That might be important.”

  Now at the house, Faolan looked toward Angelique’s apartment.

  “Do you want to go to her?” Danhoul asked.

  “Aye, come in. We’ll speak here.”

  Faolan left Danhoul in the kitchen, quietly opened the bedroom door to find the room empty. As he turned on the light, his heart lurched on espying the large, disturbing bloodstain on the bedsheets. He rushed to the adjoining bathroom.

  “Angelique?”

  Hearing moans, he pushed the door open. She was doubled over, unnaturally pale, her face contorted in pain. The amount of blood on her garment alarmed him.

  “What’s happened? Sure your courses don’t flow this heavily? I presumed them concluded.”

  “I lied.”

  “About what?”

  “I’ll explain. But the bleeding won’t stop; I’m in a lot of pain and light-headed.”

  He stepped nearer.

  “Your phone’s sittin’ right by the bed and you’re too damn headstrong to call me or Newt?”

  “I’m not really speaking to either of you just now. I thought this would pass, but…”

  Her eyes closed and she went limp. He caught her as blood streamed down her legs and pooled on the floor.

  “Danhoul,” Faolan hollered. “Angelique needs a doctor.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Danhoul looked at the blood on the floor and her garment.

  “Place her on the bed. I’m a magical healer and can attend to her better than a doctor.”

  Faolan nodded and carried her to the bed. Glowing light radiated from Danhoul’s fingertips as he touched Angelique’s belly. His expression was grim.

  “Did you know she was pregnant?” Danhoul asked.

  “No,” Faolan admitted. His voice sounded strained even to him.

  “Unfortunately, she’s miscarried…and lost a lot of blood,” Danhoul said.

  “Christ!” Faolan said. “She was pale when I left, but didn’t seem in pain—maybe she was. I mightn’t have noticed. I was bein’ a damn Philistine.”

  “Call Tristan. Tell him we’ll need his magic, too,” Danhoul insisted.

  “You’re sayin’ you think she’ll not live?”

  “She’s fadin’ fast. The bleeding isn’t stopping even with my magic.”

  Faolan’s hands shook in trying to find the correct button on the damnable gadget. He made the call, and was soon thankful Tristan was on his way.

  “It might be a hex,” Danhoul said. “Has she been near anyone with dark magic?”

  “With several people at the gallery, how would I know who has magic, much less dark magic?”

  Tristan and Timothy came in.

  “What the feck?” Tristan said looking at the blood. “I thought if we needed magic, we could use Timothy’s Haitian magik, too.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can,” Timothy said.

  “Thank you,” Faolan replied.

  “Was Sammy feckin’ stabbed?” Tristan asked.

  “No, she’s suffered a miscarriage, but something supernatural likely caused it. Look through her handbag and the clothes she wore or search for a hex bag here.”

  “You think she’s been hexed?” Tristan asked.

  “Maybe,” Danhoul said. “I believe Samantha’s the fourth transcendent witch. Her birth name’s Ailish. Faolan says she’s died twice and was revived. That might explain why we couldn’t sense her. If her life light went out twice, her vibration would have been altered and perhaps made unrecognizable.”

  Tristan dumped the handbag’s contents.

  “A brush, a tissue and lipstick. No hex bag.”

  Tristan looked under the pillows and beneath the bed.

  “I sense something unnatural,” Timothy said.

  “Faolan, hold her hand,” Danhoul said. “Give her a reason to hang on. She’s not fightin’. Witches are tenacious, but if they give up of their own volition…well, even magic won’t revive her. Talk to her.”

  Faolan took Angelique’s hand noticing how cool it felt. She was always a little cold. She’d adored it when he held her close, permitted her to warm her cold hands on his chest or her icy feet against his legs.

  “Angelique, I want a life with you—wherever that might be, whenever. We’ll make it work, my beautiful angel.”

  “I can’t find anything on her dress,” Tristan said. “Why do you think it’s a hex, Danny-Boy?”

  “Just intuition.”

  “Water heals her,” Faolan remembered. “We must put her in water.”

  “As a water witch, that would make sense,” Danhoul said.

  “I’ll pour a bath.” Tristan hurried out.

  Faolan carried her into the bathroom and set her in the water, which immediately turned disturbingly dark red. He held her while Danhoul kept his hands on her belly. The water began to churn and bubble. The other men closed their eyes, probably employing their magic.

  “She’s fighting now,” Danhoul said. “It’s not our magic that’s turned the water into a healin’ bath.”

  “Faolan?” she weakly whispered.

  “I’m here, Angel.”

  Her eyelids slowly fluttered. The sadness
within her beautiful blue eyes wrenched his heart.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “You’ve nothin’ to apologize for, Angel.”

  “I should’ve told you—but I couldn’t let a pregnancy be the only reason you stayed. You had to want to stay with me, not out of obligation. I couldn’t let you give up your life and one day resent me—resent us.”

  She glanced down at the bloody water, then at the other men.

  “Timothy you used your magic, too?”

  He nodded with a kind smile. “My sister’s the third transcendent witch.”

  “We’ll have lots to discuss. But Faolan and I need to speak alone.”

  “I believe the hex has been carried out. You’ll be okay now, but we’ll be here if you need us,” Danhoul said as they left.

  Faolan held her.

  “Please say you forgive me, Faolan.”

  “I’m only sorry you went through this alone. You carried my child and felt you couldn’t tell me.”

  “You seemed so relieved when I lied and told you I wasn’t pregnant.”

  “You honestly would’ve sent me back never knowin’ you carried our child?”

  “I thought you’d return to your life and if I had your baby, at least I’d always keep a part of you with me. I’m sorry. Not just for not telling you about being pregnant. You once asked if I felt you’d dishonored or disrespected me. You never have—but I did with you and I’m regretful. You’re a proud man and I wanted you to give up everything—all you’ve established…solely for me. If I could go back, I’d never utter the words to bring you here to me.”

  “You’d ensure we never meet, never experience all we have in these past weeks?”

  “From what I’ve gleaned from that book, when I send you back, you’ll lose all memories of me. Wouldn’t that be better than what you’re feeling now?”

  “I’d never want to forget what we’ve shared, Angelique. I’m hurt you think I might. I’m sorry I quarreled with you. Is that what caused this?”

  “No, I was already feeling unwell earlier. Perhaps I’ll think clearer in the morning and determine who hexed me and how.”

  He lifted her from the bath, drained the water, helped her remove the wet nightgown and wrapped her in a towel, rubbing her till she grew warmer.

  “Sit here. I’ll find another garment.”

  He hurried down the hall. Someone had removed and replaced the soiled sheets and cleaned the adjoining bathroom. He searched through her drawers, found a warm nightgown with an image of a mermaid. No, that would be childlike. She wouldn’t want to think of children now. By God, he felt heartsick and gutted. She’d carried their child, didn’t think she should tell him, then nearly died.

  “You okay, man?” Tristan’s voice jarred him.

  He cleared his throat and nodded.

  “Danny-Boy went to get a remedy Alainn created. Timothy has some Haitian spells that give me the feckin’ heebie-jeebies, but he claims they keep away evil.”

  “Thank you for changing the beddin’ and cleanin’ the floors,” Faolan said.

  “I cheated and used magic. I’m admittedly squeamish.”

  “I must see Angel attired in something warm.”

  “I’m making tea,” Tristan said.

  Faolan went back to her. “I’ve turned up the heating.” He could think of little else to say. He assisted with putting on the nightgown. “I brought these, too.”

  He passed her a garment she called panties, not the small sexy ones she usually wore, but the sturdiest he could locate.

  “Thank you,” she weakly said. “I won’t be able to use tampons. My pads are in the top drawer.”

  He opened it and he gestured toward a box. She nodded. After he gave it to her, he turned away.

  “Okay, now, I’d like to go to bed.”

  He lifted her to him. She put her arms around his neck, already shivering.

  “I’ll heat up your bag of rice.”

  “Thank you, Faolan, for being kind and not outwardly angry. I’m sure you’re very displeased.”

  “I thought you were dyin’ earlier, Angelique. Anger and displeasure aren’t uppermost in my mind.”

  He placed her on the bed, covered her with quilts and brought her the heated bag. Danhoul returned with the potion. Timothy gave her a remedy made of rum and Tristan brought her tea with a splash of whiskey. If nothing else she’d perhaps be drunk and sleep better. Timothy also brought a Haitian charm to repel evil.

  “You’ve all been very sweet,” Angelique said.

  “Have you considered what item might have been hexed?” Danhoul asked.

  “There was a woman in the bathroom at Newt’s gallery. I was upset; she passed me a tissue. It’s in my bag.”

  Tristan found it. “Turn off that lamp.”

  Danhoul waved his hand and the room darkened.

  “Holy shite!” Tristan said and Angelique gasped.

  Faolan stared at the glowing symbol on the tissue. It was Celtic, usually Scottish, but definitely not fortuitous.

  “Widdershins,” Faolan said.

  Most of Celtic ancestry recognized it as an evil symbol.

  “Drawn counterclockwise with the water and death symbols,” Danhoul said.

  “You touched this?” Tristan asked.

  “I put it on my neck and wiped my tears with it,” Angelique admitted.

  “If you didn’t have such powerful magic, if Faolan hadn’t found you, I hadn’t used my Druid powers combined with Timothy and Tristan’s magic, and without Faolan’s quick thinking, you’d have died,” Danhoul said.

  “Why would that woman, a stranger, want Angelique dead?” Faolan asked.

  “Perhaps she’s affiliated with Odhran. If she knows Angelique’s one of the transcendent witches, she’d probably want her dead. Many would,” Danhoul said.

  “How the feck would she know if we didn’t?” Tristan asked.

  “Maybe they’re after anyone with powerful magic,” Timothy said.

  Her phone rang.

  “It’s likely Newt.”

  Faolan answered.

  “Is Angie okay?” Newt asked. “She won’t answer my calls or texts. I know she’s angry but…”

  “She’s far from okay. In truth, we came close to losin’ her this night. I’ll let her explain in the mornin’. Do you have a list of who attended your exhibit? There was a guest book, aye?”

  “I’ll be right there,” Newt said.

  “He’s on his way,” Faolan stated.

  “That’d be best,” Danhoul agreed. “We can use all the help we can get.”

  “We’ll ask Wolf what he knows. I’ll call Fiona, too. She’s dealt with hexes and evil spells, but for now, I must sleep.”

  “We’ll fill Newt in when he arrives,” Tristan said.

  They went out and left Angelique and Faolan alone.

  He gently placed his hand to her belly and she wept.

  “I’d already begun to love our baby. I’d envisioned his eyes and smile would be like yours.”

  “If fate brought us to this, maybe it’ll see us together with other children,” he said gently kissing her and wiping her tears.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Should you be up walkin’ around?” Faolan worriedly asked.

  “The bleeding’s slowed down.”

  “Newt’s sittin’ in the kitchen lookin’ guiltier than a pirate caught with his hand in another’s treasure chest.”

  She knew he was trying to make her smile.

  “Although he also spent a long time speakin’ with Timothy earlier. I think there might be an attraction between them.”

  “Timothy seems like a really great guy and yes, I believe he’s gay. Maybe Newt will find his perfect man, too.”

  He gently held her.

  “You smell so good,” she said resting her face against his chest. “I want to hold your scent, the sensation of your arms around me.”

  “You can’t seriously still be thinkin’ of sendin’ m
e back?”

  “Nothing’s changed, Faolan. You need to be back there. I’m still not equipped to survive back then.”

  “You’d do just fine. I was just tryin’ to rile you. For that, I’m sorry. But a good deal’s changed. You nearly died. I’ve sworn to be your guardian. I won’t go back…not till you’re safe.”

  “Did Wolf arrive?”

  “No. I’ve checked the trunk in the attic.”

  “I’d like coffee in the kitchen.”

  He led her there, her leaning on him. Newt looked guilty and apologetic.

  “Jesus, Angie! Someone really wants you dead?”

  “I guess magic isn’t all fun and games and summoning spells,” she said.

  Still wearing the clothes he had on at the gallery, Newt hugged her tightly.

  “I’m sorry about the baby and about the painting. I know I should have told you, it’s just—you’re so beautiful and…”

  “Stop while you’re ahead, Newt.”

  She sat. Faolan placed coffee before her, but she saw he had tea, hot chocolate and water, too. He wrapped a warm blanket around her and passed her a heated rice bag.

  “I didn’t know what you’d prefer to drink,” he said. “It’s times like this when a man feels utterly helpless.”

  “You could never be helpless, Faolan Mahoney.” She lovingly touched his face.

  “You two need to find a way to stay together,” Newt said.

  “Newt!” Angelique scolded.

  “If anyone should be together, it’s you. Look how well he knows you already and when you look at him, your eyes light up…even today, which I presume is a pretty damn difficult day.”

  She put her hands over her eyes and cried again. Faolan held her. The tears in his eyes deeply touched her.

  “My lovely angel,” he whispered. “I’d take away your pain if I could.”

  “I know,” she whispered and they kissed tenderly.

  Faolan kept his arm around her as she drank her coffee.

  “Newt, do you know who the woman might be?”

  “I brought the guest book, but she mightn’t have signed.”

  Angelique looked through it but didn’t sense anything suspicious. She closed her eyes envisioning the brief encounter with the woman in the restroom.

  “I don’t think she’s from this time. Would you bring me that tissue?”