The Hidden Grimoire Page 5

  I reheated leftovers for dinner, and when we’d finished eating, Kyle checked his watch. “I promised my dad I’d go with him to his AA meeting tonight. He’s celebrating a sobriety birthday. You going to be okay by yourself?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You’ve had a couple of interesting days.”

  “I have, and you know what? I’m going to be fine. You go support your dad. I’ll be here when you get home.”

  “Home,” he repeated. He eased out of his chair and crouched in front of me. “I like that.” He palmed the back of my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. “You’ll call me if anything unusual should happen?”

  I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. “Go.”

  He smiled. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He rose, stopped in the kitchen doorway and gave me one last smile before he left.

  Ash crunched on food in the utility room while I cleaned up after dinner, then she hopped onto the clothes washer while she waited for me. When I hung the dishtowel on the stove handle, she jumped to the floor and headed toward the workroom—our usual routine.

  I flipped on the lights, but there was no grimoire waiting for me on the table. Just as well. I had essential oils to bottle. I called out for Siri to play music and sang along while I worked.

  After bottling the condensate from the still, I strained the oregano oil that had been steeping. The soaps curing on the shelf under my worktable weren’t ready to cut yet. In the mood to pour a candle, I went to the cupboard in the corner for clove oil, and when I turned, a grimoire lay open on the worktable.

  The hidden grimoire.

  My heart raced. I’d gotten used to the books in the cupboard moving around and showing me recipes, but this one was different.

  It’s just another book.

  One with a skull and crossbones and a warning.

  I can do this.

  I let my breath out slowly, and checked to see what the book wanted me to do—the spell to protect the next daughter born, Georgia unless I missed my guess.

  In darkness, light a candle of Eucalyptus, Agrimony, Myrrh & Sage. By such light, incant the words herebelow. Lift the candle and sign a cross. With success, the rune will linger in such shape before the wind catches it away.

  Alrighty, then. I surveyed the workshop—my workshop. After the fire, I’d replaced most everything that was lost, organized everything in a way that made sense to me. I wasn’t sure I had a candle made with the required ingredients.

  In the corner, the cupboard opened by itself, raising the hairs on my arms. Yes, I knew the magic was a part of me, and yet I was still unnerved when the world chose to show me things on its own. I crossed to the cupboard, looked over the shelves of herbs and oils. I knelt and moved things around on the lower shelves until I came across a jar candle. I pulled it out and read the label—exactly what I needed. “Thank you,” I said to whatever spirits guided me.

  I hesitated, remembering the first spell I’d cast that had backfired so spectacularly. Calling on the magic intentionally comes with unintended consequences. The magic was calling on me this time, the magic which also dictated to do what you will, but do no harm.

  I could do this.

  Nora had performed this spell for me, and for my cousin Jeannine—just in case. I set my resolve, turned off the lights and lit the candle. My voice cracked as I read the verse inscribed, but before I lifted the candle to make the cross, the flame blew out. Did that mean the spell hadn’t been successful?

  I turned the lights on. The grimoire was open to another page. The picture drawn at the top was that of a sleeping child, a cloud floating over her.

  Guide her dreams.

  “Wait,” I called out. “What about the spell for protection?”

  I didn’t really expect an answer, did I? I turned in a circle, surveyed the room, then reached for my phone. I called Nora to ask her what to do.

  “Did you try again?” she asked.

  “No. The book opened to another page. There’s a spell that says guide her dreams. I never dreamed about you.” The uncomfortable I’m not in control of this feeling crept over me. I knew I wasn’t in control. I wasn’t meant to be. I was a cog in a wheel, a small part of the bigger picture.

  “I was never called on to cast a dream spell,” Nora said. “Then again, you didn’t know me.”

  “I’m going to try again,” I said. “If it fails a second time, I’ll try the second spell then.”

  “Do you want me to come over tomorrow?” Nora asked. “And I can call on one of our wiccan sisters for advice, if you’d like.”

  “Our wiccan sisters?”

  “You met them at the solstice celebration,” she said.

  I didn’t remember any of them by name, if I’d even been introduced, but the connection I’d felt with them that night, my connection to the world, had given me the confidence to accept my legacy. “Sisters?” I repeated, an uneasy feeling taking hold.

  “Well, not actually sisters, and yet we are all connected, aren’t we?”

  Which meant Narcy’s ‘sister’ might not be a blood relative either. Not something I was ready to contemplate right now. First things first.

  “Let me try the protection spell again, and if I need help, I’ll call you back,” I said.

  I set down the phone and flipped the lights off once more. Hands shaking, I relit the candle and turned the brittle pages to the first page. Reciting the incantation one more time, I moved the candle through the air. Wisps of gray smoke remained in the shape of a cross. I heaved a sigh of relief, and blew out the candle.

  Somewhere in the house, a door slammed shut.

  Chapter 11

  Startled, I dropped the jar candle and went for the lights.

  “Brynn?” Kyle’s voice was tentative, as if he was afraid to ask what I’d been doing in the dark.

  “In here,” I turned to the worktable to hide the grimoire, but it was gone.

  “You blow a fuse again?” he asked, setting a hand on either side of the door and leaning into the workshop.

  I picked up the candle, a hairline crack running along one side of the jar. “Working by candlelight.”

  “Almost done?”

  I glanced at the cupboard in the corner, which remained shut. No special orders to make tonight, apparently. Was I done, though? The hidden grimoire had asked me to guide Georgia’s dreams, and I wasn’t sure how to do that. “Ummm.”

  Kyle straightened. “I was going to clean things up at home before I came over, but when I saw the lights going on and off, I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

  No need to subject him to my freakishness. He might think he understood I was different, but to see it and acknowledge it might be fortitude he didn’t possess. “Candlelight wasn’t bright enough for what I was looking for.”

  He studied me a moment, then nodded. “Give me ten minutes to put my tools away.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He surveyed the room one more time, I suppose to reassure himself everything was copacetic, and left.

  Peering through the blinds, I watched him disappear into his house a few minutes later. Was ten minutes enough to do what the grimoire asked of me? I summoned the book.

  The grimoire floated to the worktable and opened to the page.

  Guide her dreams.

  I traced the words with my finger, reading aloud. Clouds surrounded me. The sock puppet I’d given to Georgia danced in the hands of a little girl. Angry words echoed from somewhere else and the puppet stilled. A warm blanket pulled over my head—Georgia’s head.

  “Are you afraid?” I asked.

  “Daddy mad.”

  As angry as Jason had been, I couldn’t imagine him harming his daughter. “He won’t hurt you,” I told Georgia, hoping I was right.

  Georgia opened her big blue eyes. “Aunt Bwinn.”

  “That’s right.”

  She stuck a thumb into her mouth against
the raised voices muffled by the blanket.

  I sought to comfort her the only way I knew and sang the lullaby my mother had sung to me, Blackbird.

  Georgia’s eyes drifted closed and her thumb fell out of her mouth. I smoothed her forehead. “Sleep well, little one.”

  More clouds surrounded me, and when they cleared, I was in my workroom once more.

  Jason and his wife had been arguing. Should I be concerned for Georgia’s welfare?

  People argued all the time. I stood by my conviction that Jason wasn’t a violent man, at least not from what little I knew of him. Even if I wanted to help, Jason had made his feelings known. He wasn’t interested in family ties. I suspected that aside from his wife and daughter, his sister Jeannine was the only family he trusted. How could I convince him I wouldn’t hurt him or his family? His daughter would need guidance when she got older, which would be much easier for me to do if Jason and I could be on friendlier terms. I’d made headway with Jeannine, but asking her to intervene might be one step too far.

  I looked for the book on the table, but the grimoire had disappeared.

  “Watcha doin?” Kyle asked, once more leaning through the doorway.

  I jumped. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I wasn’t exactly quiet.”

  The door hadn’t slammed behind him this time. I turned off the workroom lights and joined him in the living room. “I guess I was lost in thought, thinking about my cousin.”

  “There are better things to be thinking about.”

  I laughed. “Right?”

  He wagged his eyebrows. “How about we head upstairs?”

  “Right behind you.”

  A few hours later, I jerked to wakefulness after reliving the night of the fire yet again. Ash pawed at my face and nuzzled me, bringing me back from the nightmare. The lacy bedroom curtains gave the moon a fuzzy glow. I propped myself up on my elbows and surveyed the room, checking for what had woken me, and found nothing out of the ordinary. Beside me, Kyle’s breathing remained steady, the rhythmic cadence of sleep. I slid from beneath the covers.

  “Why are you awake?” Kyle croaked.

  “Had a dream,” I whispered. “I’m going to go fix a cup of tea.”

  He yawned loudly, mumbled something, and rolled over.

  Ash followed me downstairs to the kitchen, checking her food bowls for leftovers. I made a cup of chamomile and gazed out the window toward the woods, cradling the cup between my hands.

  What was I going to do about Georgia? Jason had made his feelings clear, and yet I had a responsibility to her. My mother and my uncle might have preferred to keep my generation away from Aunt Nora, but my mother would have brought me to her with time, if she’d survived. I liked to think even Uncle Jerome might have if he hadn’t married Aunt Theresa.

  Georgia was only three, but already her gifts were manifesting themselves. Was that why Jason was so afraid? She would come into her legacy with or without me. I considered whether I should reach out to him, try to reason with him.

  And what about Narcy’s sister—was she a sister-witch? While I didn’t sense evil lurking nearby the way I had when Narcy had arrived in Hillendale, I was wary. If I attempted to smooth things over with my cousin and his family, would the sister pursuing me put them in harm’s way? Narcy’s sister could be a partner in crime. If that was the case, not responding to the message on the internet portal wouldn’t stop the woman from finding me.

  Chapter 12

  I spent the next morning at the shop packaging the monthly order of bath products for Sally Miller’s B&B, something I could do in the front. Several customers stopped in to browse, among them, LeAnne and Georgia Hanson.

  Upon their arrival, Ash rose from her rug in the corner, leapt to the floor and lay down at Georgia’s feet.

  “Kitty!” Georgia squealed, clapping her hands. She sat down and ran a hand across Ash’s fur.

  LeAnne looked at merchandise until the other customers had left the shop. I folded my arms, curious as to why she’d chosen to come in two days in a row. She wore glasses today, and her eyes were swollen, as if she’d been crying. She looked exhausted.

  Georgia jumped up and clung to my leg. “Aunt Bwinn.”

  I patted Georgia’s back. “What can I do for you today?” I asked LeAnne.

  “Georgia’s really taken to you. Normally, she’s very shy.”

  “She knows family when she sees them,” I replied.

  “I’m glad you feel that way because I have a huge favor to ask.”

  As much as I wanted to build a relationship with LeAnne and Georgia, I needed to clear the way with Jason first. “Whatever it is, I don’t think your husband would approve.”

  “I’ll deal with my husband,” she said. “I’m in kind of a bind. I made a last-minute OB appointment. Normally, Jason goes with me, or Georgia, or both, but this came up kind of suddenly. The doctor wants to run a test, and Jason has a meeting this afternoon. He’s still relatively new to this branch office and doesn’t feel comfortable taking off time before the baby comes. I know this is a huge imposition, but is there any chance I can leave Georgia with you for an hour—maybe an hour and a half?”

  “What about Jeannine?” I asked.

  “No,” Georgia said, shaking her head vigorously.

  I laughed and crouched beside Georgia. Ash laid close enough to pet, far enough to bolt if Georgia got grabby. “What do you think, Georgia? Do you want to hang out with Aunt Brynn for a little while?”

  “Aunt Bwinn,” she repeated with a big grin.

  “Is everything okay with the baby?” I asked LeAnne.

  “I’m prone to migraines, and since I’m in my third trimester, the doctor told me to call him if one flared up.”

  Which explained her swollen eyes. I was tempted to offer one of my special-order products until I remembered how Nora had helped Kyle’s mother when she was pregnant. I didn’t want to invite unintended consequences, especially with a pregnant woman.

  “They want to check for preeclampsia,” she went on. “I’m afraid I can’t manage Georgia and the doctor at the same time today.”

  “You’d better give me your contact information, then,” I said.

  She breathed a sigh. “Thank you. I’m sorry to impose on you, but I didn’t know what else I could do.”

  “Whether Jason likes it or not, we’re family.” This was my chance to prove to him I wouldn’t recreate scenes from Macbeth with his daughter.

  We exchanged phone numbers, LeAnne’s, mine, and Jason’s. LeAnne went to her car and brought in a travel bag with snacks and toys for Georgia.

  “I don’t expect she’ll give you any trouble,” LeAnne said, “but if you need help, call Jason. I’m sure if he had to, he’d reschedule his afternoon.”

  Was I wrong to hope he never found out? But that wouldn’t be wise, either. “We’ll be just fine. Go take care of yourself.”

  “Thank you,” she said one more time, and then she left.

  “Well, Georgia, it’s you and me. What should we do?”

  “Sing songs,” she said.

  Did I even remember children’s songs? I asked Siri for help and, minutes later, I was singing along to tunes from Disney movies. Inside Georgia’s travel bag was a blanket, which I spread on the floor. Georgia pulled out sections of track and a wind-up train, and together, we put it together.

  “No,” she said after we’d sung a couple of songs together. “Sing song.”

  I tilted my head, trying to understand what she wanted, and she started to hum slightly off key. I stopped Siri’s playlist to make out the tune. “Blackbird?” I asked.

  Georgia’s dark blue eyes sparkled while she nodded. She wound up the train and set it on the oval track.

  She remembered. I’d sung her the song in a dream. Tears welled in my eyes, remembering all the times my mother had sung the song to me. A legacy I could share without repercussions.

  Kyle walked in. “Brynn?” He
stopped when he spotted us on the floor. “I didn’t see you through the window.”

  I got up and brushed off my jeans. “You remember Jason’s daughter, Georgia.”

  Georgia got up, tugged on Kyle’s hand and invited him to sit with us.

  “I’d love to play with you, Georgia, but I’m still working.” He shot me a glance. “How did this happen?”

  “Her mother had to go to the doctor. She asked me for help.”

  “And your cousin?”

  Georgia pouted. “Daddy mad.” She circled her arms around my legs. “I love Aunt Bwinn.”

  I stroked her hair. “I love you, too, honey.”

  “Enough to want one of your own?” Kyle asked.

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not the time.”

  He chuckled. “Just sayin’. You’re a natural.” He glanced around. “Does Daddy know?”

  “I’m not sure, but Mommy did tell me to call him if I ran into problems.”

  Kyle frowned. “I don’t like this. Not after what happened on Sunday.”

  “Baby steps. Maybe LeAnne can wear him down.” At least I hoped she could. I’d need to spend time with Georgia at some point, even if it was years down the road.

  “I’ll try to stick close to the business district.” He shook a finger at me. “Call me if he shows up.”

  I saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m not kidding, Brynn.”

  “I know. We’ll be fine. LeAnne said she’d only be an hour or so.”

  “Even still, I’ll be around.” He turned and walked out.

  Would LeAnne tell Jason about my babysitting his daughter? I didn’t like being caught in the middle between my cousin and his wife, and yet I wanted to know Georgia, to establish a relationship with her she could draw on later.

  Georgia made train sounds and pushed the train despite it traveling under wind-up power. She rocked, clapped her hands and giggled.