Chapter Twenty-eight
“I can’t believe it,” Cassie exclaimed an hour later. “Blaze’s fever is gone, and the sores on her body are healing.”
She was seated at the kitchen table with Duncan, Toby, and Lucy. Sugar stood next to the counter, munching on a basket of apples. The bigfoot tossed one into the air. His long tongue shot out, snagged the fruit, and snap, the apple was gone.
“Sugar, don’t play with your food,” Lucy said, giving him a mom look. “It’s impolite.”
Sugar ducked his head. “’Kay, Mama.”
“What are those flowers?” Cassie asked Duncan. “You recognized them, didn’t you?”
“Yes, and I confess, I am all astonishment. They are Tandaran windflowers, exceedingly rare. Their healing properties are without equal. Wherever did Sugar come by them, Miss Lucy?”
“In the hills growing along the crater,” Lucy said. “Shug brought some home, and I gandered pretty quick what they could do, so I got him to show me where he’d found them. Dug up every one I could get my hands on and toted them back to my greenhouse. Temperamental little suckers. Took me a while to figure out how to make them thrive.”
“Tan what?” Toby wrinkled his nose. “Where’s that, Georgia?”
“Nay, Tandara is—” Duncan shook his head. “It matters not. The crisis is past and the child lives, thanks to you, Miss Lucy.”
“No thanks needed.” Lucy’s voice was gruff. “I know what it is to love a child.” Her doting gaze went to the bigfoot. “Some would say what I feel for Sugar ain’t the same, but I say love is love.”
“Where’s Verbena?” Toby asked, looking around. “Haven’t seen her for hours.”
“In the sickroom,” Duncan said. “I asked her to linger there awhile. The mother is still distressed and in need of reassurance. I asked Verbena to abide there so that her peculiar gift may speed the healing process.”
“She’s reading, ain’t she?” Toby grunted as Duncan nodded in assent. “That’ girl’s gon’ explode from learning.”
“Let her alone,” Lucy said. “She’s obviously bright and hungry to better herself, and I say that’s a fine thing.” She pushed to her feet. “I’d best be going. Keep me posted on the little ones.”
“Thank you again,” Cassie said, walking the old woman to the back door. “You and Sugar saved the day.”
“Duncan saved the day,” she replied. “I brought the flowers, but he knew what to do with them.” She gave Cassie a sharp look. “You’re a mighty lucky gal, Cassandra Ferguson. Duncan’s a good man. Got a heart big as all outdoors and made for loving. He’s been kind to my Sugar. Rescued him from a trap. When I think of my baby lying in the woods, hurt and scared, and no one to help him . . .” Her voice faded off, and her chin quivered. “Well, all I can say is, I’m grateful to Duncan and thankful he was there to help my Sugar.” Removing a linen handkerchief from her pocket, she blew her nose defiantly. “Duncan taught Sugar to talk. Did you know that?”
“No,” Cassie said, surprised. “I had no idea.”
“That’s right.” Lucy nodded. “Sugar couldn’t say a word until Duncan came along. You got any idea what it means to a lonely old woman, to hear her boy call her ‘Mama’ and tell her he loves her?” She looked fierce. “He’s promised to look after Sugar when I’m gone. What have you got to say about that?”
“That’s between you and Duncan.”
“Your business, too, unless I’m mistaken. Anybody with eyes in their head can see he’s crazy about you.”
Cassie shifted, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. Her relationship with Duncan was supposed to have been simple and uncomplicated, a physical affair to the mutual satisfaction of both. But things had shifted, and nothing was turning out the way she’d planned. She hadn’t had time to absorb the changes—changes in her perception of Duncan, and changes in herself. She had a lot to figure out, and there’d been very little time. Until she did, she didn’t want to share her feelings.
Lucy was watching her. “Cold feet?” she said, cackling. “You’re a fool, Cassie Ferguson. You think a man like Duncan comes along every day? He’s the best thing walking on two legs. You let that one get away, you’ll regret it.” She slipped the handle of her pocketbook over one bony arm. “But there’s no accounting for stupid. You’ll find it everywhere.” Turning, she bellowed down the hall, “Sugar.”
The bigfoot stuck his head out of the kitchen. “Mama?”
“Shag your fuzzy butt down here, son. Time to go home. We don’t want to miss Days of Our Lives.”
“Sands,” Sugar chirped, galumphing down the hall.
“He loves his stories,” Lucy said. “And Thomas and Friends. Crazy about that dadburn choo-choo.”
Cassie saw them out, then carried a tray with ginger ale, sandwiches, and fruit upstairs to the sickroom. Verbena was sitting in a chair, her head bent over a book. She looked up when Cassie entered. Putting a finger to her lips, she pointed to the bed where the mother and child were asleep and whispered, “Wore slap out, both of them.”
Cassie set the tray down on the dresser and spread a quilt over the exhausted woman. “Are you hungry?” she asked, turning to Verbena. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you.”
Curious, Cassie moved closer. “What are you reading?”
“It’s called A Little Princess.” Verbena placed her finger against the inner spine to mark her place. “It’s about this girl, Sara, who goes to this fancy school. Her pappy’s a fine gentleman, and Sara’s treated like gold until her pappy is reported dead. Then the fly’s in the soup, and no lie. Miss Minchin—that’s the old bat what runs the school—hears tell that Sara’s money is gone, and turns rattlesnake mean. Starves Sara, and works her, and makes her sleep in the cold.”
“I remember that book,” Cassie said. “I hated Miss Minchin, and I felt sorry for poor Sara.”
“Me, too,” Verbena said. “But it ain’t—isn’t—altogether sad. There’s a monkey in the story, and a nice man in a turban. Things work out in the end. The man in the turban works for the rich man next door. Turns out, this rich feller was friends with Sara’s pappy. He adopts Sara and takes her out of that terrible place.”
“You already know the story?”
“Yup.” Verbena tucked her legs under her. “Read it last night at the library. Liked it so much, I checked it out this morning. I done— I mean, I’ve read it four times so far.” She stroked the hard cover with wistful fingers. “Sara and I got a lot in common. Folks think she’s a dud and no-count just ’cause she was poor. And Sara knows what it is to be hungry. Starving in an attic—starving with the dogs . . .” She lifted her slender shoulders. “Reckon there ain’t a whole heap of difference.”
Verbena went back to her reading, and Cassie left the room to return to the kitchen. She’d left Duncan and Toby eating lunch, and as she stepped into the hall, she could hear the low murmur of their masculine voices in conversation. Toby said something she couldn’t quite make out, and Duncan laughed.
The sound sent a pleasant shock through Cassie’s body. Duncan’s laugh was rich and deep, hot cocoa and brandy, and it never failed to warm her to her toes. It was one of the many things that made him attractive. It was one of the reasons she—
Grim materialized unexpectedly in front of Cassie, and she staggered back, clutching her chest. “Grim. You scared me into next week.”
“Where is Duncan?” Grim’s expression was haunted. “I must speak with him.”
Cassie took one look at his stark face and led him down the hall without another word.
Toby glanced up from his plate when Cassie and Grim came in. “Head up, boy,” he told Duncan. “Here’s trouble, unless I’m mistook.”
Duncan shoved to his feet. “Brother, what is toward?”
“It is Gryffin.” Grim’s voice shook. “I saw him in the woods. You were right, brother, though I did not credit it until I saw him with mine own eyes. He is a dupe, and he suffers most dreadfully.” A tremor racked his big body. “The orb consumes him, brother. His palms smoke and burn from its touch. The pain . . . ah, gods, the pain. I cannot bear to think on it.”
Grim dropped his face into his hands, and Cassie felt a surge of sympathy for the huge, fierce warrior.
“Do not despair, Grimford.” Duncan strode over and clapped the big warrior on the shoulders. “We will find a way to save Gryff.”
Grim lifted his head, his expression eager. “You will help me free our brother, then?” He clasped Duncan’s forearms. “I knew I could count on you, Duncan.”
“Of a certainty,” Duncan said. “We will set out at first light on the morrow.”
“Nay, we cannot wait. The matter must be dealt with at once. Taryn has gone stekaath.”
Duncan swore. “Stekaath? Then she is unaware that things have changed?”
“You have the right of it.” Grim released Duncan and stepped back, his face very white.
“What is ‘stekaath’?” Cassie asked.
“It means ‘shadow,’ ” Duncan said. “Taryn has gone to ground. She was ordered to find and slay the rogue, and she is very, very good at what she does. That is why she was chosen for the task. Unfortunately for Gryff, Taryn is unaware that the situation has altered.”
“Aye,” said Grim. “My fear is that she will find and slay Gryff ere we can stop her.”
“I’m thinking she’ll find that hard to do,” Toby drawled. “You Dalvahni boys are hard to kill.”
“True,” Duncan said, “but Taryn has been given a sheaf of special arrows fashioned by Kehvahn himself.” He shrugged. “What our master has wrought, he can undo.”
“Oh, my God,” said Cassie, horrified.
“What of Conall?” Duncan asked Grim. “Does he know of this?”
“’Twas he who sent me,” Grim said. “Rebekah nears her time, and he will not leave her. He bade me ask that you accompany me in his stead.” He glanced at Cassie and cleared his throat. “The captain informs me that you have long haunted these woods and hills, and know them exceedingly well. ’Tis his thought that your many sojourns here in pursuit of a certain . . . quarry . . . may be of use.”
“The captain is nothing if not astute,” Duncan said, giving Cassie a look rife with sensual promise. “Very well, brother. Let us be about it. I am eager to see the thing done and hie me home.”
Toby pushed back from the table. “I’ll come with you. If this rogue’s anywhere about, I’ll smell him.”
“I thank you,” Duncan said to him, “but I would have you remain here, an you would.”
Cassie put her hands on her hips. “To keep an eye on me, you mean.”
“To keep you safe, my hornet. You are the dearest thing in life to me.”
Duncan pulled her close and kissed her right there, in front of the others. A few days ago, Cassie would have slapped him silly for manhandling her in such a fashion, but today, she didn’t mind at all.
“That’s sweet, Duncan, and I appreciate it, but I’m a big sorceress and can take care of myself.” Pressing her palms against his hard chest, she smiled up at him. “Toby’s right. He has a nose for supers. The faster you find Taryn and Gryff, the faster you come home to me.”
Duncan’s eyes flared. “Cassandra? Are you saying . . .? Dare I hope that you—”
“Yes.” Cassie blushed. “I tried to tell you this morning, but we were interrupted.”
“Cassandra. My heart.” Blip. Duncan whisked her out of the kitchen and into the hall, away from the others. He pressed her against the wall. “Say it, my love. I would hear you say it ere I leave.”
This was it. Time to step off the ledge and fly . . . or go splat.
“I . . .” Cassie’s throat tightened, and her heart jerked against her ribs. She tried again. “Duncan, I . . .”
But try as she might, the words wouldn’t come. Cheeks burning, she exhaled in frustration. What was the matter with her? Why couldn’t she say it? This was ridiculous. She gave it another try. “I care about you, Duncan,” she managed at last after a titanic struggle, “and I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Lame, but better than nothing, right?
The squeam made a gagging noise. Not even close. Miss Lucy was right. There’s no accounting for stupid.
Duncan stood motionless, silent. The awkward hush stretched and stretched. Unable to bear the tension, Cassie lifted her gaze to his face. Disappointment, she expected. Fury would not have surprised her. Instead, she found him gazing at her with such an expression of tender amusement that Cassie’s breath caught.
“’Twas not what I hoped for,” he said, pressing a hard kiss upon her lips, “but ’tis a vast improvement upon ‘Go away, Duncan, ere I shoot you with my gun.’ ”
Releasing her, he stuck his head through the open kitchen door. “Let us away, my boon companions.”
Grim strode into the hall with Toby behind him in dog form. The back door opened, and they were gone. Cassie ran after them, watching through the glass as they crossed the lawn and melted into the trees.
Cassie swallowed, her throat thick with tears. She should have told him. Why the hell was she still so afraid?
She stood looking out the door a long time, then turned back toward the kitchen. As she went down the hall, the telephone rang.
She picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“Miss Ferguson?” a woman whispered in a frantic tone. “You got to unwhammy me. I can’t take being a love goddess no more. Me and Frodo’s run out of places to hide. I ain’t et or slept in days.”
Oh, good Lord, she’d forgotten about Nicole.
“Where are you?” Cassie asked.
“In the back of Webb’s Hardware. Me and Frodo snuck in to use the construction phone in the storeroom. We’s hiding behind a bin of nails. Went back to Miss Evie’s, and them crazy men was waiting for us. Squatting on the roof like a bunch of birds. Mr. Ansgar runned ’em off, but we couldn’t stay.” Nicole began to cry. “Yesterday, a bunch of them fools chased me up a sycamore tree. I’m a retired pole dancer, Miss Ferguson. I ain’t no Zacchaeus. I’d be up there still, sitting on a limb like a dang squirrel, if my Precious hadn’t runned them off.” She gasped. “Somebody’s coming. If they got a penis, I’m done for. Take this spell off’n me, Miss Ferguson. Please. I can’t take it no more.”
The phone went dead.
Cassie returned the receiver to its cradle. Going to the hall tree, she selected an ash staff from the stand and went out onto the front porch. She stood there quietly for a moment, listening to the steady slosh of the river, calming her thoughts and gathering her will.
Carefully, methodically, she recreated the repelling spell she’d cast on Nicole. It shimmered to life before her, a network of sparkling lines. She could see right away where she’d botched it. Several of the lines at the center of the spell formed a pulsing heart, throbbing with power. This was extremely potent magic. Thank goodness for Frodo. If not for the nasty little dog, Nicole might have been torn apart by her “admirers.”
Cassie was appalled. This was sloppy work, the mistake of a neophyte, not a seasoned wizard. She hadn’t made a mistake like this since . . . well, since ever. She examined the beating heart at the center of the spell. Projecting, no doubt about it. She’d been moping over Duncan when she’d cast the spell, and her unresolved, unacknowledged feelings had gotten woven into the incantation.
Rifling through her mistakes over the past few months, she had an epiphany. She hadn’t lost her touch. She’d been in denial, stuffing her feelings for Duncan, refusing to recognize them, and it had screwed with her magic, big-time. But that was in the past. She’d faced her feelings for Duncan and accepted them.
Oh, yeah? Guess that’s why you told the guy you love him.
Okay, she had a little more work to do in the own-your-feelings department, but she was making progress.
Now to make things right for poor Nicole.
Focusing on Nicole and her happiness and well-being, she carefully deconstructed the spell in her mind. The force filled her until she thought she might fly apart.
Pointing the staff at the shining spell, she muttered, “Erasus.”
The spell unraveled and disappeared with a pop.
“There,” Cassie said, pleased. “That should do nicely.” She left the porch and returned the staff to the stand in the hall, then climbed the stairs to the sickroom.
Verbena looked up from her reading and greeted her with a smile. “They’re feeling much better,” she said, waving the book in the direction of the patients.
Cassie had witnessed the windflowers’ magic with her own eyes. Nonetheless, she was amazed at the difference in mother and daughter. It was extraordinary. With her color returned and her vitality restored, the mother was a handsome woman, with thick brown locks and large brown eyes. The little girl was sitting up in bed eating grapes, and she, too, was vastly improved. Her eyes were no longer clouded with pain and fever, and the terrible sores that had riddled her body had almost faded away. Even her molting hair looked healthier, though the bald patches remained.
She looked up when Cassie came in. “Thank you for the grapes, Miss Cassie,” she said, offering her a shy smile. “I feel lots better.”
“I’m so glad, Blaze.” Cassie turned to the mother. “I’m happy to see that you’re both feeling better.”
The mother rose. “I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness, miss. Blaze and I had no place else to go.”
“Cassie,” she reminded her. “I’m sorry. I forgot to ask your name.”
“Laura.” The woman blushed. “I should have introduced myself before. Too upset to remember my manners.”
“Of course you were upset,” Cassie said. “Perfectly understandable, given the circumstances.”
Laura looked away, shamefaced. “We’ve been shunned. The pack wouldn’t even let us back in our house to get our things.”
“I heard,” Cassie said with a rush of sympathy for the woman. “What Zeb did was cruel and heartless.”
Not to mention abusive, she thought, angrily remembering the vicious blow the alpha had given Laura.
“Zeb,” Laura spat. “He got what he deserved.”
“What do you mean?” Cassie asked. “Is he dead?”
“No. Shunned by the pack, same as me and Blaze. The Randalls got a new alpha now.”
“Shunned? Why?”
“Zeb’s crazy as a loon, and the pack got tired of his mess, I reckon,” Laura said. “My cousin Gina slipped into the woods to speak to me. Our mothers were sisters, and we grew up close.” A spasm of grief crossed her face. Pressing her lips together, she continued, “Gina says Zeb got a bunch of the pack killed going after that stupid stone, and it was the last straw. The pack chased him off. Too little, too late, as far as I’m concerned. My Mac’s dead and it’s Zeb’s fault, may he rot in hell.”
“I want Mac,” Blaze said, and began to cry.
“Shh,” Laura said, comforting the child.
“Shunned,” Cassie repeated, unnerved.
Zeb was out there, unmoored and unhinged, a powerful werewolf with nothing to lose, and Duncan was unaware. A terrifying premonition seized Cassie that she’d never see him again. Dread seeped into her bones, stealing her breath and robbing her of strength.
She should have told Duncan when she’d had the chance. She should’ve—
“What’s that?” Verbena looked up from her reading. “Sounds like a dog in pain.”
“Toby?” Cassie’s heart pounded. “He went into the woods with Duncan and Grim to look for the rogue.”
“That ain’t Toby.” Verbena dropped her book and jumped to her feet. “That’s Bo-Bo, and he’s in trouble.” She darted out of the room, quick as a hummingbird.
“Verbena, wait,” Cassie cried, running after her.
But Verbena was too fast. Cassie caught a flash of movement and heard the back door slam. Cassie dashed downstairs and flung open the door in time to see Joby Ray step out of the trees at the edge of the lawn, looking as shabby and disreputable as ever.
Verbena streaked across the lawn, her feet skimming the ground. “Don’t you hurt him, Joby Ray. You turn Bo-Bo loose, or so help me, you’ll be sorry.”
He held up a nondescript orange mutt by the scruff. “Come and get him, Beenie, if’n you want him so bad.”
He thrust out his arm, and the dog jerked and howled as though it had been pressed against an electric fence.
No, not electric—a magical fence. The spell line Cassie had erected shimmered in the sun. Superimposed on her wards was a network of glistening threads. Duncan had strengthened the wards, and the repelling spell he’d cast was unable to differentiate between man and animal. To the shield, a Skinner was a Skinner. The poor dog was being tortured.
“Stop it,” Verbena shrieked, running closer. “You’s hurting him.”
Joby Ray grinned and waited but made no move to step out on the lawn.
With horrifying clarity, Cassandra realized his game.
“Verbena, stop.” Cassie jumped off the porch and sprinted after the girl. “Don’t go near the wards. It’s what he wants.”
The girl paid no heed, sobbing as she ran.
“That’s right,” Joby Ray crooned, holding the yowling dog against the wards. “You gon’ have to come right up to me if’n you wants him.”
“Verbena, stop,” Cassie shouted again. “Don’t go any closer.”
Verbena ignored her. Running to the edge of the lawn, she reached through the shield and snatched the dog from Joby Ray. Sparks sizzled at the contact. Verbena’s hands closed around the dog, and she jerked him through. The animal went limp in her arms, head lolling and tongue hanging out.
“Bo-Bo?” Verbena sank to the grass with the dog in her lap. “Please don’t be dead.”
Shooting Joby Ray a glare of dislike, Cassie ran up. “You’d better leave, Skinner, before Duncan catches you.”
“Oh, he ain’t gon’ catch me.” Joby Ray smirked, his fingers flicking deftly over the wards. “Saw him take off into the woods with a dog and another big son of a bitch. I’ll be long gone afore he gets back.”
Cassie tugged on Verbena’s arm. “Come away from the spell line, Verbena. It’s a trick.”
“Got it,” Joby Ray said with a crow of delight. “Thankee, Beenie, for the boost. Good to know I ain’t lost my touch.”
Cassie stepped in front of Verbena. “Go away, Joby Ray. This is your last warning.”
“Shut your yap, bitch.” Joby Ray stepped through the shield. “I’ve had about enough of your sass.”
His arm jerked up. Too late, Cassie saw the billy club. The club came down and the world went black.