Bewitched (Betwixt & Between #2) - Darynda Jones Page 0,34

stop me. “What is all of this really about?”

I couldn’t decipher exactly what I’d seen in my dreams, but I knew it was bad. I also knew I had to tell her. It was bound to come out, so why not now? Glancing over my shoulder, I worried about Annette’s take on what I was about to say.

“Defiance,” Ruthie said.

I turned back to her. “Something tried to get me while I was”—I waved toward where I’d been suspended above the bed—“out.”

Annette stilled.

“And before you try to convince me I was only dreaming—”

“What kind of something?” Concern knit Ruthie’s graceful brows.

“A dark kind of something searching for me, and I had to hide.” I shifted on the bed. “I think Percy kept it at bay. I think he fought it off.”

She put a hand over her mouth. “No wonder he wouldn’t let any of us in.”

“Not even you?” I asked her.

After a soft shake of her head, she dropped her palm to the bed. “He was probably focusing all of his energies on keeping you safe. On keeping the warlock out.”

A cold dread crept across my skin. “It was a warlock?”

“It had to be.” She stood and paced, her jaw jutting out in anger. “Those sons of bitches.”

I’d never heard her curse, but I liked it. Based on Annette’s struggle to keep a grin in check, she did too.

“Did they find me?” I wilted at the thought. “The spell we did? It didn’t work?”

“It worked. It worked like a charm, for lack of a better phrase. They did, however, find you in the dream world and tried to glean information as to your physical location. But they obviously have no idea who you are or where you are, or they’d already be here. They don’t know you’re my granddaughter. They don’t know to look here. So clearly, they didn’t get much.” She looked up at the vines. “Thank you, Percival.” Then she turned back to me. “And you. Clever girl.”

“Damn straight, she is,” Annette said.

I shook my head, adamant they were wrong. “I didn’t do anything but hide.”

“That was all you could’ve done.” Finished pacing, she sat beside me again. “I don’t know how you managed to keep them away for so long, Defiance, but . . .” She tucked my hair behind my ear. “Is that why?”

I bristled. Not at the hair tucking. That was sort of nice. “Is what why?”

“Is that why you’re insisting you’ve lost your powers?”

“I’m insisting I’ve lost my powers because I’ve lost my powers.”

“And why you’re leaving?” she continued, completely ignoring what I’d said.

I decided to study my boots in great detail. After a long moment, I said aloud what I’d been afraid to even contemplate. “They’re coming for me.”

She squeezed my arm. “I know, sweetheart. I also know that if you leave, you’ll be a thousand times more vulnerable.”

Samuel came in and sat on the bed, right beside an oblivious psychic, and tried to pet Ink again.

Ruthie melted and put a hand over her heart. “He is adorable.”

He struggled to get a good grip on Ink, who twisted and turned right out of his hold. It was like watching a wrestling match where the underdog never even had a chance. Poor kid.

“Samuel, when you asked me to open the witch bottle, was it because someone was inside?” Because along with the warlock—or seven—after me, I had a malevolent being—or seven—from the witch bottle attached to me. For all eternity. And I was feeling a little overcommitted.

Samuel nodded.

It was interesting that while he seemed to understand everything I said to him, he didn’t talk much, his verbal communication skills clearly still emerging. “Samuel, who was inside?”

“Sir,” he said, before scrambling after Ink, who’d gotten fed up and raced off.

“Hold up there, mister.” I rushed around the bed before the boy vanished again. “There was only one man inside the bottle?”

Giggling at my audacity, he stopped short. “Mm-hm. Sir.”

How bad could one malevolent being be? Even if his name was Sir. “Did Sir tell you to have me open it? The bottle?”

Samuel nodded, feigned to the left, then rushed around to my right.

I tried to grab him, genius that I was, but he disappeared through the wall, genius that he was. “Holy cow, he’s fast.”

“The little boy?” Annette asked, looking on longingly. “I want to see him.”

“Well, as soon as I get that supernatural camera I ordered off Amazon, I’ll set up a photo shoot pronto.”

Annette shot me a fake glare. “At least you haven’t lost