Chapter 11 #2
Behind them, the wards shimmered faintly around the cottage, catching the candlelight like a halo.
The flames seemed to dance higher, feeding off their laughter, and the air hummed with gentle magic.
Everyone simply belonged. Freya felt it sink deep into her chest, as if the house itself sighed in contentment.
Later that night, Devon and Freya were curled up in front of their fireplace, mesmerized by the dancing flames surrounding their yule log.
A lot had happened in a year. Devon and Freya had bought a fixer-upper down the street from Brianna and Esther.
They were hand-fasted as well as legally married after Devon had returned to America for good.
While studying American finance law, he became a home renovation MVP.
Freya lifted her head from Devon’s shoulder. “There’s something I wanted to tell you, but I promised I wouldn’t until later.”
He straightened and leaned back slightly, so he could see her face. “Later? Are you late?”
She chuckled. “No. Nothing like that. Our birth control is working fine.”
“Ah. Well, now my curiosity is piqued, so you’d better tell me what it is.”
She ran her finger over his leg, absently, adding a little magic to his previously healed suture line. “Do you remember the time your great aunt Elspeth wanted to talk with me alone?”
“You mean when you borrowed my phone and carried it into the ladies’ room to keep some kind of family secret from me?”
She chuckled. “Well, yes, but it wasn’t exactly a family secret.”
“What was it, then?”
“She said we were pretty much destined to be together. That our souls had found each other over many lifetimes. She didn’t want you to be influenced by that knowledge and asked me to let love grow, naturally.”
He let that sink in, then looked puzzled. “Why didn’t she think you’d be influenced?”
Freya shrugged. “I’m not sure. She said I was a healer in many of my past lives, and I often healed you. Maybe she thought I was already halfway there.”
He rose and used the fire poker to adjust the Yule log so it burned more evenly. “Maybe it’s because this time we healed each other.”
Freya smiled and nodded. “That we did.”
Devon set the poker down amongst the other fireplace tools and returned to his spot on the sofa. He was just about to kiss Freya, when someone started pounding on their front door. He groaned.
“I’ll get it. You just sat down.” Freya jumped up and strode to the door while the pounding continued. Through the glass pane, she recognized Brianna and opened the door wide. “What the...”
“Oh, thank the Goddess you’re home!” Brianna ran inside their living room and seated herself in the rocking chair before Freya could close and lock the door. “Oh, hi, Devon.”
“Are you okay?” Devon asked, eyebrows up.
“I’m not sure. The weirdest thing just happened.”
Devon deadpanned, “Welcome to Weird Central.”
“No. Listen… This old woman in a long green robe came to our door. She said she’s part of a supernatural coven that recruits witches with rare abilities. She said I was the one who opened the time portal last year.”
Both Devon and Freya sat up straighter. Neither interrupted.
“She wants me to join them. Said they live in some big mansion on Long Island. She told me I’d be a huge help. And they’d pay me more than Bill Gates makes in a month.”
Freya narrowed her eyes. “You’re not seriously considering this, are you?”
Brianna jumped to her feet and started pacing. “I don’t know what to think! The only thing I do know is—don’t tell Grandma.”
“Why not?” Freya asked.
“She’d worry. Then I’d worry about her worrying. It’s a spiral.”
“True,” Freya admitted. “But she wouldn’t hold you back. And if you want this, you shouldn’t hold yourself back, either. We’ve got her, if she needs anything.”
Devon chimed in. “You’ll want to research this coven first. Assuming you want to know more, when you’re not freaking out.”
“I—”
“Deep breaths,” Devon said. “Before you faint, and we have to explain that to Esther.”
Brianna deflated like a pierced bouncy castle. “What would you do if someone showed up with this kind of news? I mean, we always wondered how the portal opened. Grandma and I were literally talking about the Salem Witch Trials, wishing we were able to help stop it, and then ‘poof’, we were there!”
“Yeah, that was a bit of a red flag moment in hindsight,” Freya muttered.
Devon leaned forward. “Did you tell anyone about it? How would this woman know?”
“No one. We agreed not to. And who’d believe us anyway?”
“Did she at least give you a name?” Freya asked.
“Something like... Bass? Bast?”
Freya’s frown deepened. “I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I,” Brianna said. “But if it’s not a hoax, I guess I’ll find out more when she comes back. She said she’d return after I’ve had time to think about it.”
“Text us when she does,” Devon said. “We’ll be there in nanoseconds.”
“I will. And sorry for the interruption.” She grinned. “I thought I might be walking in on some rated-R holiday cheer.”
“You were,” Devon said flatly.
Brianna snorted. “Well, I’d better get back to Grandma before she wakes up and asks questions.”
“Text us when you get home,” Freya called as Brianna stepped out into the cold.
Freya closed the door, turned back to Devon, and sighed. “Well, that was a twist.”
“She really might have opened that portal, huh?”
“It would explain a lot.”
He paused. “You don’t think... Bast? As in...”
They locked eyes, then simultaneously sprinted toward the office.
Seconds later, the glow of Freya’s laptop screen lit up the darkened room. She was already typing. “Egyptian gods and goddesses. Go!”
Devon scratched his head. “Let’s see who—or what—just knocked on her door.”
Bas returned three nights later. Not by car. But by appearing in Brianna’s kitchen at ten o’clock at night. The teakettle screamed like it had spotted death itself.
Brianna yelped and nearly flung her mug across the room. Tea splashed over her hand.
“Ow! Son of a—”
“Sorry,” the woman in green said calmly. “You startled before I could announce myself.”
“You think?”
Bas stood near the refrigerator as though materializing inside strangers’ homes was perfectly normal etiquette.
Her long white braid hung over one shoulder tonight, threaded with tiny gold charms that shimmered faintly whenever she moved.
The heavy green cloak from before was gone, replaced by an elegant black coat over what looked suspiciously like green silk pajamas.
Of course supernatural witch recruiters wore silk pajamas. Brianna pressed a hand against her chest. “You can’t just appear in people’s kitchens!”
Bas tilted her head slightly. “Technically, I can.”
“That is not the point.”
The older witch glanced toward Esther’s bedroom door. “Your grandmother is asleep?”
“Yes. And if you wake her, she’ll hit you with a frying pan before asking questions.”
“Good instincts.”
Brianna narrowed her eyes. “You joke a lot for someone who offered me a job that sounds like supernatural human trafficking.”
That earned the faintest smile.
“Sit,” Bas said.
Oddly, Brianna did.
Not because of magic. At least she didn’t think so. There was simply something about Bas that filled a room with authority vibes.
Bas moved to the stove and shut off the screaming kettle herself. “You researched me,” she said.
Brianna folded her arms. “You expected me not to?”
“No. I hoped you would.”
“Well, congratulations. Freya and Devon are currently spiraling through Egyptian mythology websites because your name apparently belongs to a cat goddess.”
“Close enough.”
“So what are you really?” Brianna blurted.