at the time. I know I should have listened more closely. I guess she was trying to keep my butt covered in case the witch hunters tried to grab me again. Thank the gods for an overprotective cousin.”
Redgrave House was an old sprawling manse dating back to the 1800s. It had been built by an ancestor of theirs named Captain Isaac Redgrave, and he’d been one of the most prominent men in the town during his lifetime. Needless to say, the house was filled with antiquities and looked as if it suited life a few centuries ago better than it did this ultra-modern age.
“Don’t you have a family spell book anywhere? I’m sure that would be filled with loads of spells that could help you protect yourself from the sons of bitches outside.”
“It would be in the library, but to be honest with you, I’m pretty hopeless when it comes to spells. I’m a pretty hopeless witch actually, and I am more woman than witch when I think about it.”
Depression welled inside her. It was true—compared to Anya she was like a murky mirror. Anya shone with brilliance, a brilliance Dallas could never hope to achieve. The only three things she could do well made her life a living hell. She’d only opened one time portal in her lifetime and that had been with her mother’s careful supervision. Even then they’d only opened a portal to travel back five minutes in time.
As for her premonitions, those cursed things hit her clear out of the blue like a lightning bolt. Well, she could do without those, as they wreaked hell on her emotionally and physically.
And her touchy-feely talent only made her a town pariah no one wanted to get close to, fearing what she’d make them see when she touched them. They didn’t understand that she’d make them see bad things only if she were mad at them. The one shining thing about her visions was that if she could get close enough to an adversary, she could make them relive something terrible from the past or future.
As a child, she’d done that to a bully of her brother’s after said bully had gotten his mates to gang up on her brother and beat him bloody. When she’d touched the bully, he’d gone ashen, and by the smell that had engulfed him, she was fairly certain she’d scared him not only witless but shitless. His mates had quickly abandoned him, screaming “witch” and “mommy” as they fled.
From that day on, her brother had not been beaten up and she, in turn, had not touched anyone at school since no one dared come near her. It had made finding dates to school dances and, of course, to the prom, a little tricky to say the least.
She dragged herself to her feet and made her way to the library. She entered, closed the door, and pushed over a sofa to block anyone who might try to cross the threshold. The couch would only slow them down, not keep them out. Still, the small gesture made her feel a bit better about her current situation.
“I do believe they are going to invade Redgrave House shortly, Dallas. Just keep calm and search for that kit Anya left you. If you don’t find it, you’ll really be in trouble.”
Keep calm? Was he out of his freaking-mad mind? How could she keep calm when thoughts of what they wanted to do to her kept rioting through her head? She sped past the library wall filled with her ancestors’ portraits, stopping briefly to stare at the portrait of her parents commissioned over thirty years ago. They’d been so young. Neither had been prepared for what had awaited them—they’d thought their marriage would last forever. Instead it had been shattered, and along with it, the rest of their lives had been irrevocably changed for the worse.
Her mother’s smiling face, curly strawberry-blonde hair and sparkling sea-blue eyes, and the pronounced dimple she had in her right cheek made Dallas feel a little better, while her father’s strong, stalwart visage put that steel in her veins. His dark eyes, dark hair and large build were a complete contrast to Bryony’s elfishly delicate look.
Bryony Hyde and Ashley Redgrave had been polar opposites when they’d met, but sparks had flown and soon Ashley was head over heels for the quietly reserved Bryony, the daughter of his family’s lawyer. If her father knew witch hunters were attempting to invade his home, he would put