Chapter Twenty
“Harry, we have to work fast,” Dailey said, the instant he stepped into his brother’s office. “Did you or Sloane come up with an antidote to break Mother’s spell?”
“No, but Flo and Brelenia may have.”
“Tripp’s mother was here?”
“She showed up after you left earlier.”
He shook his head slowly, trying to wrap his mind around a goddess he didn’t know showing up on his behalf. “Why?”
“She was in league with Hermes. Apparently, her husband felt bad and wanted to make sure she didn’t leave you to fend for yourself.” Harrison walked to the sideboard and poured a drink for both of them. Returning, he handed off a whiskey. “You’re going to need this.”
“I hate the sound of that.”
“Yeah, so did I when Rand and Brelenia showed up on my doorstep.”
Harrison’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, making Dailey worry about what went down.
“You said ‘may have.’ What’s the risk, Harry?”
“You’re quick. I’ll give you that.” After finishing off his drink, his brother crossed to the bookshelf and revealed his ceremony room. “Come on. This needs privacy.”
Once they were safely tucked away from prying eyes, Harrison said, “From what Brelenia could tell, it appears whatever has attached itself to Mother is singularly focused on our family. Whether good or bad, she couldn’t quite determine which.”
Rage bubbled up, trying to cloud Dailey’s mind, but he shoved it back down, knowing what would happen if he lost control again.
“How do we break it? The amulets?”
“No, but we can use those for protection after the fact.” Harrison flipped open his grimoire and tapped a page. “We unravel it in stages.”
“Why not cut it off and be done?”
“If we rush it, the backlash could snap your tether back in place.”
“Tether?” Dailey’s stomach churned. His brother made it sound like he’d been leashed like a savage junkyard dog.
“I’m sorry, D.”
His brother’s eyes held sympathy for Dailey’s cause.
“It’s not your fault, Harry.” Running an impatient hand through his hair, he said, “Tell me about this process.”
“As I said, it has to happen in stages. The quickest we can manage will be three days.”
The way he abandoned Payton on the beach rose up in his mind, and Dailey felt sick again.
She’d seen his intent, recognized it. But if he didn’t become his own man, free of outside influence, he would never be the person she deserved.
He’d hoped it was a simple matter of countering his mother’s handiwork, but it wasn’t.
“I don’t have that kind of time.”
“Any sooner, and it could fail, D. Most likely it will.”
“Fuck!” He was feeling savage, wanting to tear the heads off teddy bears and kick over lemonade stands. “There will be withdrawal. There always is,” he said grimly. “Tell me what you know.”
“Headaches and anger on day one, as clarity hits.”
“Sounds about right. Day two?”
“Emotional spikes as memories and feelings align properly.”
Dailey grimaced. “And finally?”
“Hopefully, you’re free of her. But we’ll need to have a failsafe in place in case it doesn’t work.”
“How long will it take to make what we need and perform the ceremony?”
Harrison shrugged. “An hour. Two at the most.”
“Can you do that while I write Payton a letter?”
His brother frowned.
“I have to say goodbye, Harry. In case this goes sideways. Cobb power is at the root of Witchmere, and she draws her strength here.” Indeed, the Cobbs were the founders of Witchmere, and because of her family heritage, Mary-Alice Cobb had refused to take her husband’s name, insisting he take hers.
“It will take a Christmas miracle if this goes well.”
Sloane entered on his last comment. “Witchmere has never been shy of those, D. We have our own Make-A-Dream-Happen crew.”
He snorted. “For tourists, not for the residents.”
She gave a careless shrug, reminding him of Payton with that action.
“You and Harry collect what we need and prep the room. I’ll only be fifteen minutes.”
Leaving them, Dailey used Harrison’s desk to pour out his heart, what was left of it, on paper. When he was done, he checked his watch. Five minutes was plenty of time to find Archer and return.
He arrived at the cabin to find the gargoyle clan gathered outside.
“Why aren’t you inside where it’s warm?” he asked.
Cecil pointed skyward. “We don’t trust them. If they have us all in one building…”
“Ah.” No words would reassure them that the dragons wouldn’t torch the house, so Dailey remained quiet on the subject. “Roche, can I see you for a minute?”
They walked a short distance away, and he held out the envelope. “Will you give this to Payton? She’ll return here soon. I can feel it. And when she does, tell her I’m sorry.”
“You should deliver it yourself, Cobb.”
“I can’t. I’m not able to get close without…” Heat crept up his neck. “I’m not able to get close.”
“Will she bring down the world when she reads this?” Archer asked, eyeing the letter with a frown.
“I don’t think so. She’s not the one with a meteor problem,” he replied with a wry, self-mocking smile.
“Call it instinct, but I don’t feel right about this.”
“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important, Archer,” he said, appealing to the man’s softer side.
With a nod, the protector tucked it into his coat pocket. “My people will need to rest in a few hours. Twelve on, twelve off, remember?”
“Yes. I’m going to send Harry and Sloane to create a ward when I’m done there.”
“Done? What are you planning?”
“Nothing to bring the town to its knees. Stay calm,” Dailey advised.
Archer narrowed his all-seeing eyes. “But something.”
“I intend to sever my mother’s hold over me. She put it in place long ago.”
“I suspected as much,” the protector said grimly.
He appeared uncomfortable, prompting Dailey’s suspicions.
Trying to keep the dawning horror from his voice, he asked, “Did my family bind you to this place?”
The answer was in Archer’s direct stare.
“Christ!” The hits kept coming! “The only thing strong enough to hold you would be blood magic, Roche. Is that what they used? Do you know?”
“It was a long time ago, and I’ve made peace with it.”
“No. No, no, no.” Dailey released a string of savage curses. “I’m going to reverse this. Count on it.”
“You can’t.”
“Why?” he demanded.
“It will kill my line. The first Cobb made it foolproof.”
“We have gods and Titans, Roche. Surely they are stronger than an ancient warlock who’s been dead for half a century.”
“Go do what you must to break your mother’s spell, Dailey. We’ll discuss this after your drama’s done. I promise.”
Feeling oddly sentimental, he hugged the bear of a man. Archer Roche was the only guy who made him feel both small and yet as if his opinion mattered. “Thank you for your service to Witchmere and for helping Payton. I owe you, and I’ll do whatever I can to free you.”
With a nod, the gargoyle laird strode away.
Closing his eyes, Dailey visualized his brother’s office, returning in time to find his mother snooping about.
“What are you doing here?” he asked coldly.
She turned with a gasp. “Dailey!”
Her guilt stained her cheeks for a brief instant before she pasted on her standard arrogance.
“I asked you a question, Mother.”
Smiling, she approached and reached out, but he snapped his fingers, encasing himself in a protective shield he used when confronting the shadier characters in town. With a vampire-like hiss, she drew back, sensing before touching that she’d receive a nasty shock.
“What are you doing?” she asked with an offended look.
“I think you know.”
“It’s that girl again, isn’t it? She’s gotten into your head.” Expression ugly, she balled her fists. “When are you going to learn, Dailey? She’s no good!”
A green mist rose from the skin of her exposed hands, drifting toward him. When it encountered his shield, it split and slithered along either side, seeking an opening.
“Mother!” Sloane’s reprimand was the single snapped word.
The smoke evaporated as if it never existed, and Mary-Alice Cobb looked like she’d taken a hammer to the head. Her surprise was too convincing, leaving Dailey wondering whether her influence was intentional or the unintended result of her desperate need to control.
“Mother,” he said softly, catching her attention. “Did you see the mist?”
“Mist? What mist?” She frowned as if he’d lost his mind. Either she was the best actor he’d ever seen, or she wasn’t aware it existed. “Stop playing games, Dailey. What is going on, and why did you use a repellent against me?”
“It is a shield against evil, Mother,” he replied slowly, watching her closely for signs of artifice. There were none, and he was forced to reevaluate her part in his control. If not her, then who? And had that witch or warlock purposefully used her as a tool?
“I’m not evil! How dare you!”
Across the distance, he met Sloane’s bemused stare. She’d seen it, too, and her confusion was great.
“Mother, I think you should sit down. We have a story to tell you, and you’re at the heart of it.”
Harrison entered through the hallway door, as their sister had, and Dailey could only assume there was a secret passage, allowing him to protect the ceremony room from discovery in situations like this.
“Careful, Dailey,” he warned.
Thinking back on their entire lives, he couldn’t recall witnessing her do anything truly horrendous.
Yes, she was controlling, but was she any different from any other helicopter parent?
When she believed no one was looking, she slipped strays food, then doubled down on her efforts to ensure they found a home.
Many times, she’d visited residents, ensuring they had enough food in tight times.
She’d secretly met with their employers to press them into giving bonuses and raises.
Surely she wasn’t all bad, right? Or was it the enchantment swaying him to see what she wanted him to? How was he to know for certain?
“Mother, I know you put a spell on me. I want you to voluntarily remove it.”
“Dailey James Cobb! What in the Goddess’s name are you talking about? This had better not be another one of that Hawthorne girl’s flights of fancy.”
He shared a glance with his siblings. Both appeared as confused as he was, and it served to make him feel better.
Harrison approached and squatted in front of her. “Mom. We know there’s a spell on him. Others have smelled it. Tripp deflected it earlier today when you tried to control Dailey. If you know anything about this, you need to come clean.”
Her horror wasn’t feigned as she shifted her gaze from Harrison to him. Relief made Dailey’s knees feel like jelly.
“She didn’t know, Harry,” he said. “She didn’t know.”
“How could she not?” Sloane argued. “Tripp deflected it.”
“I don’t have an answer. But I deal with people every day and wade through their lies. I can promise you, she’s telling the truth.”
“Of course, I am!” Mary-Alice’s indignation was in fine form.
“When have I ever lied to you children? Never! You may not wish to hear the unvarnished truth, but I give it to you anyway. How else are you to make the appropriate decisions in life?” As she warmed to her rant, the green mist rose from her skin.
“Fuck!” Dailey raised a hand, encapsulating his mother in a bubble. “It’s built into her self-righteousness. She’s not aware of influencing others.”