Chapter 11
Cece didn’t look up when Briggs joined her in the living room. She stared at her computer screen, pretending she didn’t notice the giant polar bear shifter standing next to the couch.
The minutes ticked by until she couldn’t stand the silence and the tension. She stared at him. “Can I help you?”
“I chopped more wood and stacked it against the house beside the door,” Briggs said. “It’ll last you the winter, assuming your furnace doesn’t completely shit the bed.”
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. “I appreciate it, but you didn’t have to spend the entire morning chopping wood. You’re my bodyguard, not my…”
“Not your what?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said. She would eat hot nails before she admitted she was about to say boyfriend. What was wrong with her? Briggs was a giant jerk, and she hated him.
Yeah, well, that giant jerk just saved you hours of chopping wood, so maybe you could stop being such a dick to him?
Her inner voice was right, and she tried to give Briggs a more natural smile. “Thank you for doing that.”
He shrugged and dropped onto the sectional, keeping plenty of space between them. “What are you doing?”
She stared at her laptop screen. “Looking for a spell or a potion to break this conduit thing.”
A low growl escaped his mouth, and without looking at him, she said, “Why are you growling at me?”
“I’m not,” he said.
“That was a growl,” she said.
“I thought you said it couldn’t be broken.”
Now it was her turn to shrug. “Maybe I’m wrong. There’s a lot about magic that’s unknown. It doesn’t hurt to do some research.”
She glanced at him. He had a look on his face that she couldn’t decipher, but before she could ask him about it, his phone buzzed.
He pulled it from his pocket and studied the screen. “Mal and Willow would like to stop by and chat with you.”
“Oh, um, sure,” she said.
He texted a reply and got an immediate answer. “They’ll be here in about five minutes.”
“Okay.” She closed her laptop and set it on the coffee table before unwrapping the blankets around her. Leaving Briggs in the living room, she left the warm room and walked to the kitchen. She was already shivering, but she opened the back door and peeked outside.
“Holy shit,” she said. “He wasn’t kidding.”
The stack of wood was huge. Forget lasting the winter. It would last three winters.
She shut the door, making a soft scream when she turned, and Briggs was nearly on top of her. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” she said, scrubbing her hands over her thighs. “I was just… “
It was hard to remember how annoying and arrogant Briggs was when he was standing this close. He wasn’t touching her, but if she reached out even a little, she could brush her hand across that broad, muscular chest that looked very… firm.
Lust washed over her, and her magic pulsed in her veins.
Take him. Claim him.
Briggs inhaled deeply before a growl rumbled from his chest, and his blue eyes turned dark.
“You were just what?” Briggs’s voice had gone low, and she felt it deep in her belly like a shot of warm whiskey.
He rested one big hand on the door beside her head, his gaze arrowing in on her mouth when she licked her suddenly dry lips. He made a soft growl. “Answer me, little witch.”
“I was… you have… a lot of wood.”
His perfect lips curled into a smile. “I do have a lot of wood, sweetheart. Probably more than you can handle.”
“You have no idea what I can handle,” she said.
He leaned down, his mouth only inches from hers. “Maybe we should find out.”
Her lips parted, and he growled again, his breath warm on her mouth. “Do you want this, little witch?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I want -”
Briggs’s phone buzzed, the sound loud and intrusive in the quiet kitchen. Briggs grimaced and took a step back. “Fuck, what am I doing?”
His gaze cleared, that warm lust disappearing to be replaced with annoyance. She skittered past him to the counter and turned on the coffee maker.
“I’ll make some coffee. Do they like cookies? I have some cookies I could put out if they like cookies. Do you know if they like cookies?”
Her voice was too high and too shrill, and she made herself take a deep breath as Briggs’s phone buzzed again.
“They’re here,” he said.
“Okay, great. Do you mind letting them in?” She didn’t turn around.
“Sure.”
She waited until she heard him leave the kitchen before slumping against the counter.
What the hell was wrong with her? She’d spent all morning being annoyed with Briggs and searching for a way to break their conduit bond, and then he gets a little close to her, and in less than thirty seconds, she’s nearly begging him for his dick.
Get it together, Cece!
She took a few deep breaths, turning and smiling at Willow and Mal when they stepped into the kitchen with Briggs. “Hi there.”
“Hi, Cece. How are you?” Willow said.
“I’m good,” Cece said. “I’m making coffee, but I have some tea I can brew as well.”
Willow made a face. “Yay tea.”
Despite her lingering embarrassment, Cece couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s peppermint tea, if that makes it any better?”
Willow brightened. “Actually, it does. Thanks, Cece.”
Ten minutes later, the four of them were sitting at the table with steaming cups of coffee and tea, and a plate of cookies.
Willow was snuggled up to Mal, and Cece gave them an apologetic smile. “Sorry that it’s so cold in here. My furnace isn’t working that well.”
“It’s no problem,” Willow said.
“I wanted to chat with you about a protection spell on some of the employees at the firm,” Mal said. “It wouldn’t be many. Just any of the ones who will be providing security for you.”
Feeling weirdly uneasy, Cece said, “I, um, thought Briggs was my security person.”
“He is,” Mal said with a glance at Briggs. “But he’ll take scheduled time off, and we’ll need to bring in other employees to cover for him.”
“Oh, right,” Cece said. She glanced at Briggs, expecting him to protest and tell his boss that he wasn’t letting anyone else protect Cece.
He returned her look but didn’t say anything. The silence spun out, and Mal studied them both before saying, “Is this not working? Do you want to be reassigned, Briggs?”
“No,” he said without looking away from Cece.
Her face hot despite the chill of the kitchen, Cece took a sip of coffee. What was wrong with her? This was a job for Briggs and nothing more. Lust was turning her brain to oatmeal.
“So, what do you think, Cece?” Mal asked.
She blinked at him. “About what?”
“Doing a protection spell on a few of the employees,” Mal said.
“You want me to do the spell?”
“Yes,” Mal said.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” she said. “I’m not powerful enough to do that. Another witch could easily break any protection spell I tried to do.”
“What about doing one on yourself?” Willow asked. “Would it be stronger because it’s on yourself?”
“Maybe a little,” Cece said. “But it still wouldn’t be all that powerful.
I’ve been practicing witchcraft for less than a year, and my specialty is creating potions for healing and harmony, that sort of thing.
I’ve done very little spell casting. Even if I had, any blood witch could break an apprentice witch’s spell. ”
“You’re a blood witch,” Willow reminded her gently.
Cece grimaced. “I am, but blood witches have different power levels, and I’m on the low end.”
“How do you know that?” Mal asked.
“If I were a powerful blood witch, my magic would have been more apparent before now. It’s only in the last few weeks that my magic has been more, um, noticeable, and I think it was set off by, uh… an event.”
She glanced at Briggs, but if he was remembering their first meeting like she was, it didn’t show on his face.
“Okay, that’s no problem,” Mal said. “I’ll put out some feelers for another witch or warlock to do the protection spell. I’m guessing you wouldn’t be able to perform the same amnesia spell that your aunt and mother did then?”
“No,” she said quickly. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. I won’t use dark magic.”
Tension made her shoulders stiff and her neck ache. Just the thought of using dark magic scared the shit out of her. If she were caught, the Witches and Warlock Council would put her in prison. She’d die all alone in a magic suppressed cell, and she’d never -
“Little witch, take a breath.”
Briggs’s deep voice washed over her, and she stared blankly at him. He studied her hands, and she followed his gaze. Both hands were squeezing her coffee mug, and her knuckles were glowing a soft green.
She sucked in a breath, trying to release some of the tension in her body. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Willow said
“I won’t use dark magic,” Cece repeated.
“We don’t want you to,” Willow said. “Right, Mal?”
“That’s right,” Mal said.
“Okay.” Cece took another big breath and released it.
She could see her breath, and it felt like the temperature in the kitchen had dropped another ten degrees.
“Willow?” Mal said.
“She’s here,” Willow said. “Honey, can you and Briggs give us a few minutes?”
Mal nodded and stood, glancing at Briggs when the big man didn’t move. Briggs stared at Cece, and she gave him a quick nod. “I’m good.”
He and Mal left the kitchen as Willow reached out and took Cece’s cold hand. “Your aunt wants to tell you something, honey. If that’s okay?”
“Yes,” Cece said, her voice cracking a little.
Willow squeezed her hand before bowing her head and listening quietly. After a minute or so, she smiled at Cece. “Your aunt is sorry for lying to you, but she wants you to know that she and your mom believed it was the right thing to do. They were afraid and just wanted to keep you safe.”
Tears streamed down Cece’s face, and she swiped them away with her free hand as Willow fell silent for another minute.
“She was going to tell you the truth about your father and who you really were. She was going to tell you everything, and she’s so sorry that she didn’t get the chance. She hates that you’re alone and afraid, and she wishes she could stay, wishes that she could continue to keep you safe.”
“I wish you were here too, Aunt Sybil,” Cece said in a low voice. “I miss you so much. I’m sorry our last conversation was a fight.”
Willow listened before squeezing Cece’s hand.
“She doesn’t want you to think of that. She’s sorry for the fight, too, but she wants you to remember all the good moments, okay?
She wants you to remember your trip to the Grand Canyon, your Friday night movie nights, and your walks by the river. Will you do that for her?”
Cece nodded, and Willow smiled. “I wish you could see her face, honey. You’ve made her so happy.”
“I love you, Aunt Sybil,” Cece said as a soft sob tore from her chest. “Thank you for looking after me, for being the mom I needed when I lost mine.”
Tears sliding down her face, Willow said, “She wants you to know that raising you with your mom was the greatest privilege of her life. She wouldn’t change a single minute of it, and she hopes you know how proud she is of you and how much she loves you.”
Willow squeezed her hand again. “You were the best part of her life, and she will always love you. When you’re missing her, she wants you to sit by the river and remember how much she loves you.”
“I will,” Cece sobbed. “I promise. I love you, Aunt Sybil.”
Willow pushed a tissue into her hand, and Cece wiped her face and blew her nose before staring at Willow. She could no longer see her breath, and her voice wavering, Cece said, “She’s gone forever now, isn’t she?”
Willow nodded. “Yes. She’s transitioned to the light.”
Cece started to cry again and didn’t object when Willow moved close and put her arms around her. She buried her face in Willow’s shoulder and sobbed as Willow rubbed her back and rocked her gently.