White Witch Magic (Kentucky Haints #2) Read online

  “If the Wolvites are to survive,” Neala said, “they must breed and grow their numbers.” She sounded irritated at that.

  “Yes, that’s how survival of a species works.”

  “You are the reason they’re going extinct.”

  “If we had peace, they could breed again.”

  Neala rubbed her legs harder. “So they could.”

  “You don’t sound like you want that.”

  “Of course I want that. I want them to survive.” She glared down at the water, now opaque with dirt. “I just don’t like the idea of Dafydd going off to mate with a Wolvite female. None of the witches like the idea of their mates doing so. But, it must be done.”

  “Have you ever considered maybe their proclivity for witches has also contributed to the decline of their population? Has it always been that way, Wolvites and witches? That seems counter to survival, if they can’t have successful children with you.”

  “I’m done answering your questions.” Neala gripped the sides of the tub. “And I’m done bathing. Perhaps now I won’t offend the Lycan’s sensitive nose.” She stood and water streamed off her.

  “We need peace.” Lorena stood as well. “It’s to everyone’s benefit and you know that, no matter how much you hate the Lycans. Your society can’t prosper and make a comeback without it.”

  Neala crossed her arms over her chest.

  Lorena sighed. “I’ll get you a robe and throw your clothes in the washing machine.”

  “I’ll wash my dress here in the tub. I don’t want your chemical soap on it.”

  Voices filtered through the door, male voices, loud and angry. Lorena frowned.

  “Dafydd?” Neala stepped out of the tub. “What’s going on?”

  Lorena grabbed her robe from the back of the bathroom door and thrust it at Neala. “I’m sure everything’s okay.” She hoped, anyway.

  Neala yanked the robe on and they exited the bathroom. In the living room, they stopped short.

  Jack stood with Deacon. He focused on Neala, eyes popping wide.

  Deacon looked sheepishly at Lorena. “I tried to convince him he shouldn’t come in.”

  “This is bad enough.” Jack pointed toward the dining room and Dafydd. “But this.” He shook his head at Neala. “How could you do this, Deacon? How could you allow them in your house?”

  Neala tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Why, Jack, it’s so good to see you again.” Her voice dropped low and sultry. “My Lycan husband.”

  Lorena stepped in front of her. “Jack, I’m sorry. I had to keep you and your family safe. If I didn’t help, they were going to kill all of you.”

  Jack seethed. His eyes were bright, his teeth gritted. “You should have let them just come at us, so we could kill them first.”

  “This is outta my control.” Deacon held up his hands. “I don’t want them in my house, but that’s how it’s gotta be right now.”

  Jack trembled. “After all she did to me.” He looked at Lorena. “I can’t believe you’d expect him to have her here.” He turned and stomped out the door.

  Neala laughed. “Looks like he’s taking it well.”

  Deacon spun around on his sister, eyes ablaze. “Get outta my sight. I’ll strangle you with my bare hands if you say another word.”

  Neala smiled, her expression smug, and sauntered off to the kitchen.

  Deacon turned on Lorena then. “This ain’t gonna continue. You got twenty-four hours, then they can come collect the two of them. You ain’t cured him by then, I don’t care.”

  “Deacon, I don’t know if we can cure him in—”

  “That’s it.” He slashed his hand through the air. “This ain’t going on in my house any longer. This is hurting my family. If curing him is more important to you than Jack’s sanity, then so be it, you go on.” He waved at the door. “That’s what you got that agency farmhouse outside of town for, to do all your science crap.”

  Anger rose in her chest. She raised her voice. “They kidnapped me! They forced me to help him. I’m just trying to make things as peaceful as possible. It would have been another battle.”

  He leaned toward her. “We win them battles, in case you’ve forgotten.”

  She glared at him. “You brought them in this house, don’t forget that. And don’t you dare let Jack blame me for your stupid decision.”

  “Twenty-four hours.” He drew back. “Then you get them out of here, or out to the farm, or whatever you wanna do.”

  He walked out after Jack.

  She looked into the dining room where Dr. Winston sat. He didn’t say a word, just adjusted his glasses and returned to the sample in front of him.

  Twenty-four hours. She had to get Hazel’s books, even if it meant going over there herself, eating her pride, and actually apologizing.

  Chapter 13

  “I told her they gotta be out in twenty-four hours.” Deacon sat on the tailgate of Jack’s truck with him, holding a beer. Jack had a case in the back. “Either cut them loose out in the woods or go out to the farm and continue their work. I’m sorry, Jack. This is a messed up situation and them monsters were putting an awful threat on us. Lorena felt like she had no choice.”

  Deacon was mad, but he couldn’t wholly blame her. She was right, the Wolvites started this and they put her in a damn tight spot.

  Jack downed the last of his can and tossed it in the truck bed. He belched. That was the second one he’d sucked down since they’d been sitting there.

  “I just don’t understand why you let her in your house.” Jack stared off in the distance. “Don’t it hurt you? The way it hurts me?”

  “Damn right it hurts.” Deacon took a drink. “But she had a spell on Lorena, she was gonna drag her off and kill her. It was the only thing I could think to do. I panicked.”

  Jack swiveled and grabbed another beer out of the case. “You shoulda just shot her and that Wolvite both. That would have put an end to it, right quick.”

  “Trust me, I wanted to.” Deacon looked down. “Him, anyway. I don’t know if I could shoot her.”

  Jack eyed Deacon and cracked open the new can.

  “She’s my blood, no matter how I feel about her.” Guilt laced Deacon’s words. “I know she’s done us a lot of bad, but I don’t know if I could just put a gun to her head and pull the trigger.” He brought the can to his mouth. “Do you think you could?”

  Jack was silent. He took a long, deep drink.

  Deacon squinted toward the woods. “Now that I know they’re human, at least a bit, I feel discomfited about putting an end to them, truth be told. I mean, they walk and talk like us, they think and feel like us, they got communities. And witches, so I suppose they got kids too, families…”

  “It don’t make them any less murderous. And they ain’t nothing like us, just because they got human forms. All the killing they’ve done, the way they’ve laid attacks on us and ambushed us. What they did to my house—what they would have done to us if they got in. They ain’t human. And they sure as hell ain’t Lycan.”

  Jack had his points, just like Lorena did. Life was so much easier back when beasts were beasts and they were doing the right thing by picking them off.

  Deacon watched Jack chug down his beer. “You gotta drive back to your Mama and Daddy’s, you better slow down. Even a Lycan can get a buzz drinking like that. I know you don’t wanna stay here until you sober up.” He nodded at the house. “I don’t reckon you wanna hang out in there with them.”

  Jack lowered his can and snorted. “I’d rather shoot myself in the face. I don’t know how you’re dealing with it.”

  “It ain’t easy. We gotta get together, all of us, you, me, Zeke, Daddy, Grandpa, your Daddy. We gotta talk about this situation and what comes after, what we’re fixin’ to do.”

  “Do you even need to ask that?”

  “Lorena thinks we can talk peace with them. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing, to not have them menacing us or this town no more, not having to watch our backs
. But it has to go both ways. If they leave us be, we gotta leave them be, too. We all need to come together and discuss that.”

  Jack tossed his empty can over his shoulder and it clattered in the truck bed. “They don’t know nothing about peace.”

  Deacon gripped his arm. Jack scowled at his hand.

  “You get home and get your head straight,” Deacon said. “And then I want you to call everyone up, get a meeting together. Soon as we can, either tonight, or tomorrow. We gotta discuss this, and it’s gotta be soon.”

  Jack yanked out of his grip. “You wanna have a meeting and talk about peace so bad, why don’t you arrange it?”

  “’Cause I don’t think no one is none too happy with me right now. Don’t tell them what it’s about, just tell them we all gotta meet up and discuss some things. I’ll try to find a delicate way to put it out on the table.”

  Jack slid off the tailgate. “You’re outta your damn mind.”

  “Jack.” Deacon reached out and clasped his shoulder. “Will you do this for me? Sooner we get things sorted, the sooner they get the hell away from us—she gets the hell away from us. I swan, I’ll listen to whatever y’all have to say. If we all vote to just kill ‘em off and drive ‘em out, I’ll accept that. It won’t be easy for Lorena to swallow, but she’ll have to.”

  Jack shook his head. “You know the vote is gonna go that way. Ain’t no way you’re gonna talk Grandpa and all them into shakin’ hands with Wolvites.”

  “Will you please arrange the meeting? And don’t tell them what’s up.” He tried to give him the pleading look he gave Lorena when he was after something. “C’mon Jack, ain’t I your favorite cousin?”

  Jack pulled out of his grip again. “Not right now, you ain’t. Too bad Zeke is my only alternative.”

  Deacon slipped off the tailgate. “I’m gonna make this up to you, Jack, I swan it. I’m damn sorry about all of it.”

  Jack walked around the side of the truck. His gait was steady. “I’ll set something up and call you later.” He climbed in the cab. “Try not to get your damn fool self killed before then.”

  Deacon smiled. “You’re my favorite cousin, Jack.”

  Jack grunted and started the truck.

  After he pulled out, Deacon trudged back inside. He nearly gagged at the stink of Wolvite, stronger now that he’d had some fresh air.

  The doctor sat on one side of the dining room table, drawing blood from the beast’s arm. Mel sat on the other side, her head rested on its shoulder as she held its gnarled paw. Her own hand looked tiny and pale in comparison, tucked inside those long fingers and yellowed claws. She lifted her head and stared at Deacon, her eyes piercing. He tried not to see anything familiar there, anything from the past that might twist his heart.

  Lorena sat in a chair near the table, one of Stacy’s books open across her knees. She looked up at him as well. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, and her face was haggard. She gazed at him a moment, then looked back down at the book.

  Wordlessly, he left the room and walked down the hallway.

  He cracked the office door open and slipped in. His poor old hound loped over with a pitiful whine.

  “I’m sorry, boy.” Deacon sat down on the couch and held his hand out to him. “Don’t worry, you ain’t gonna have to stay in here much longer.”

  Clem let Deacon give him a good rubdown. He scratched behind his ears and up and down his back. The damn room stank almost as bad as the rest of the house, but at least the smell of dog was less offensive to his nose.

  The door creaked open. Clem woofed and hurried over. Lorena slid in quick and shut the door behind her.

  Clem whined and flopped down at her feet.

  Lorena put her hands on her hips. “I have to go visit your grandmother, as soon as possible. You can come with me, or not.”

  Deacon rubbed his hands together between his knees. “I reckon you think you’re gonna be able to talk her into giving you her books.”

  “I’ll do whatever I have to. I’ll apologize, I’ll butter her up, but yes, I need those books. I’m betting they’re a lot more advanced than the ones Stacy has.”

  “It’s not gonna work, especially given the situation. She’s none too happy with you, or me. None of them are.”

  Lorena stepped over Clem. “I don’t have a choice. If I’ve only got twenty-four hours, the only way I can cure him is by getting those books.”

  Deacon looked down.

  “Or else, we’ll take him out to the farm. We’ll keep working on him and I’ll keep trying to find a potion. And while I’m at it, I’ll take my things with me.”

  Deacon rubbed his face. He’d said those words in anger. He didn’t want her to leave. If she left him, if this broke them up, that would be the worst crime those monsters had ever committed against him. That was a victory on their part he couldn’t stomach.

  “Let me tell you something.” She lowered her voice to that tone that implied he was indeed about to be told. “I know this is upsetting for you, I know this is hard to deal with, but I didn’t set these events in motion.”

  He just listened.

  “I didn’t bring them into the house. I sure as hell didn’t kidnap myself and start all of this. You’re mad at me for being a victim and that isn’t fair. This isn’t easy for me either, in fact, it’s pretty damn stressful.”

  He opened his mouth, but she held up a hand. He closed it.

  “And in case you’ve forgotten, this is my job. This is what I do, I study Wolvites. It’s why I’m here, it’s why I was able to stay in Blue Ditch with you.” She pointed toward the dining room. “Even if he dies, even if we can’t cure the virus, the things we’ve learned here, the new information we have, is invaluable. It can go a long way to bridging the gap between us and them. I’m a witch, but I’m a scientist too, Deacon, and I always will be. You knew that when you met me. Nothing has changed.”

  He scratched his head.

  “I know this is making your family angry, and I know her presence is tearing both you and Jack apart. If I could expel her from this situation I would, but unfortunately, she’s part of the deal. If we toss her back in the woods, if we toss them both back, they’ll attack this town again. And yes, you may put them down, the agency may put them down, but that just means the cycle of violence will continue. They kill you, you kill them, it never ends. Is that the kind of world you want to bring children into? Do you want your kids to live under the same danger you have all your life?”

  Deacon looked up. He gazed at her a long moment and took her in. Even tired to the bone, even raging at him, she was beautiful. She reminded him of a wildfire, both awesome and dangerous.

  “I’m gonna have a meeting with my family,” he said. “I’m gonna try to convince them to talk peace with the Wolvites. But it’s only gonna work if the Wolvites want it too.”

  She put her hands back on her hips. “They’d be fools not to. If we can find a cure, that’s a significant step forward. It might be enough to convince them, if we can show them we have something to offer and that working together benefits both of us.”

  Clem leaned against Lorena’s legs. He whined.

  Deacon sighed and got to his feet. “We still gotta move fast. I’m tired of keeping my dog locked up.”

  Lorena bent and patted Clem, then rose and took Deacon’s hand. “I have to go visit your grandmother, it’s my only hope.”

  “It ain’t much of a hope, I’m telling you. You ought to have made nice with her from the start.”

  “Well, there’s no time like the present, is there?”

  Deacon hated leaving Clem all on his lonesome again, but he had plenty of food and water, his papers were fresh, and Deacon promised he’d come back in soon and keep him company. The dog whined and scratched at the door after Deacon closed it.

  “We’re gonna have to take him on a long truck ride and let him chase rabbits,” Deacon said as he followed Lorena to the kitchen. “Poor boy.”

  “He’s not suffering.”
She slammed things around in the sink. That was her grouchy, tired voice. “He’s in a comfortable room with food and water and his toys. He won’t—” She stopped short and stared out the window above the sink.

  Deacon arched an eyebrow and walked over.

  “Holy shit.” Lorena rushed to the back porch.

  Deacon stared out the window, his hackles raised. Lorena grabbed her gun. He needed to get his, too.

  In the middle of his backyard stood a big old Wolvite in man form, the biggest he’d ever seen, and Deacon recognized him, too—because the bastard had been about to rip Deacon’s throat out the night Clem became a hero.

  * * * *

  “Abernathy.” Lorena stood on the patio, her gun on her hip and her hand over it. “You’re alive.”

  The gigantic man looked exactly as she remembered him: silver hair and a long beard, dark eyes that burned like coal embers. In the sunlight, his skin glistened gold. He looked less regal than before, though. His hair was matted and the animal skins he wore were dirty and frayed. His cheeks were gaunt.

  “As are you, witch.” His voice boomed and rolled, having lost no power. “And your Lycan.”

  Deacon stood next to her, rifle in his hands and aimed at Abernathy.

  “That must twist you all up.” Deacon’s voice vibrated with rage. “I reckon if you had your way, you’d have torn my jugular out.”

  Abernathy snorted, an animalistic noise, but equally a sound of derision and dismissal. He clenched his gigantic fists at his sides and focused those dark eyes on Lorena.

  “A message was brought to me,” he said. “You have Neala and Dafydd in your snare.”

  Lorena was terrified, but she tried to remain calm on the outside. “Neala is here of her own free will. Dafydd is ill, he has the virus the Wolvites down south were infected with. We have him sedated and we’re trying to cure him. Neala is here with him because she doesn’t want to leave her mate.”