Bewitching the Beast Read online

  “Your disagreements—were they about the whole witch thing?”

  A confused look crossed her mother’s face.

  “You know, Gram believed she was a witch, and you thought she was crazy.”

  “No, Tess. Your grandmother really was a witch”—her mother squirmed in her seat—“and I’m one too.”

  “Whoa.” Ethan sank onto his chair again.

  “You’re a . . . you’re a . . .” Tess fumbled Gram’s book, nearly dropping the large tome. “No, you’re not. I would’ve known. We lived in the same house, remember?”

  “I was careful. Coven rules dictate that no children can know of supernatural activities until they are inducted at thirteen. Remember the bowling league nights. You always wanted to come with me, but I couldn’t let you.”

  Tess stiffened. “What was the name of your team? The Flying Broomsticks?”

  Her mom heaved a tired sigh. “Tess, stop. You know how I hate it when you do that. Be serious.”

  Setting the book onto the coffee table, she stared at her mother, a woman she’d thought she knew. “You’ve kept me in the dark. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

  The smell of cinnamon grew stronger as her mom unwrapped the other half of the Big Red stick and slipped it into her mouth. “The coven is my witch family.”

  “Your witch family? You mean Gram and—”

  “Your grandmother wasn’t a member of my coven.”

  “Why not?”

  “She had issues with our leader, especially regarding coven rules. The thought of keeping magic from our children never sat well. She believed childhood is the only pure time in our lives—a time when we’re open to new things.” Her mom studied her hands knotted tightly in her lap. “We’re never more in touch with the natural world around us than in childhood she’d said.”

  “You sound as if you believe those words.”

  Her mom straightened in her seat. “My coven is headed by a woman who’s sensitive about her reputation. You saw how the town treated your grandmother. They gave her a wide berth because she was different.”

  “Gram got along with everyone. She never spoke badly of anyone, well, except . . . Oh. My. Lord.” Tess’s jaw dropped open, and a loud “Ha” erupted from her mouth. “Beverly Newstead is your coven leader?”

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed.

  Tess glared back. “You turned away from Gram, your own mother, to join a coven led by Beverly Newstead?” When her mom didn’t confirm or deny it, she reasoned it out on her own. “She’s the only one Gram grumbled about. And of course, as the town’s sacred cow, Beverly wouldn’t want her pristine reputation tarnished. If she couldn’t turn herself into a goddess, I guess the next best thing would be a high fashion priestess. All hail Beverly Newstead with her fancy house, designer clothes, and froufrou dog, Yipes.”

  “Her dog isn’t named Yipes.” Her mother chewed faster.

  “It should be. That’s all it says. Yipes, yipes, yipes.” She glanced at Ethan, who hid a smile behind his gloved hand. When she turned to her mom, a piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “Oh, I get it. It’s a classic case of peer pressure. Beverly’s daughter sucked you into the coven.”

  “Caroline didn’t talk me into anything. We’re good friends. That’s true.” Her mother began to straighten the piles of magazines and unread mail scattered on the coffee table. She stopped when she came to Gram’s book. “Your grandmother had a gift. She believed all power comes from the earth. She felt it, but I never could. The coven taught me how to strengthen my powers by focusing on spells and by combining my energy with my covenmates.”

  “At least Gram gave you the chance to learn. I suppose your coven convinced you it would be best to skip my training.”

  The gum chewing stopped. “Yes, we all agreed.”

  Tess scowled. “And you believed them over your own mother? Your real family?”

  Now that the junk on the coffee table lay in neat stacks, her mother clenched her hands together. “I prayed every night and cast protection spells to keep you safe.”

  “Well, it wasn’t enough.”

  With an irritated frown, her mom drew in a long, slow breath—her yoga training at work. “I did everything I could. For some reason the Goddess didn’t grant my requests.”

  “The Goddess? I thought you were Catholic. Or are you starting a grassroots movement?”

  “I’m both Catholic and Wiccan. I asked for the help of the Goddess Aradia to protect you.”

  Tess gave a blank look, then shook her head. “Nope. Still don’t get it.”

  “Tess, casting a spell doesn’t work like in the movies. You can’t whisper a few words and in a puff of smoke conjure whatever you desire. Spells are, in essence, prayers to God. In the Wiccan faith, God has both male and female elements, the gods and goddesses. Like in all religions, sometimes your prayers aren’t answered.”

  “I thought witches had their own power.”

  “Power? No. Attuned to the energy surrounding us, yes. But when dealing with gods and goddesses, we are at their mercy. Perhaps Aradia knows something I don’t.”

  “This witchcraft stuff doesn’t sound very reliable.”

  Her mother pursed her lips and looked up—to her goddess? “Come home with me, where I can protect you.”

  “Gee, I don’t know if I should. Maybe you have some other dark secret that’s going to scare the hell out of me. Like maybe Dad’s the Devil.” Tess’s stomach sank a few inches. “Dad isn’t a witch, is he?”

  “Ah, no. Your dad was never excited about marrying into a family of witches, but bless his heart, he’s always stood by me.” She brushed a stray lock of hair out of Tess’s eyes. “You’d be safer at home.”

  Ethan leaned forward in his seat. “She can’t go. Not without me.” His voice was soft, but firm.

  “I beg your pardon?” Her mother rose from the couch.

  He faced her mother with regret in his eyes. “You’re right. Tess is surrounded by danger, because of me.”

  He shouldn’t sound so guilty. What happened wasn’t entirely his doing. Worse, in the eyes of her mother, he’d just condemned himself. “It wasn’t Ethan’s fault. I’ll have a piece of gum now, thank you.” Maybe it would calm her nerves.

  Her mother glanced between them. She offered a stick of gum to Tess, then settled her sights on Ethan. “What are you talking about?”

  “The Beast—it absorbed the positive energy in Tess that shields her from misfortune. I’m the only one who can protect her. Unless . . . Can you replace the energy she’s lost with a spell?”

  Tess chomped down on the hot cinnamon strip. “I have Gram’s necklace now, remember?” She tugged the turquoise pendant from under her shirt.

  “I know that amulet.” Her mother reached out to touch the stone. “Very powerful. It’s been in our family since the eighteen hundreds.”

  Ethan frowned. “It’s not enough. Tess hasn’t regenerated all of her positive energy yet. I would feel it if she had.”

  “I can’t do any more about her energy than what’s already been done.” Her mother swiped a hand in Tess’s direction. “Three generations came together to make that amulet.”

  “How about the negative energy? Can you eliminate what she’s built up?”

  “That amulet does it for her.”

  “Good,” Tess murmured. One less thing to worry about.

  Ethan stood. “If you can’t reverse what The Beast has done, she still needs to stay with me.”

  Her mother faced him as if ready to do battle. “She doesn’t need you. I can protect her.”

  “No. You don’t understand what you’re up against.”

  Tess threw her hands into the air. “Hold on. Don’t I have a say in this?”

  B
oth ignored her. Tess chewed like hell.

  “You’re one of them.” Her mother stood her ground. “I’m not going to trust you with my daughter.”

  “You don’t have a choice.” Ethan towered over her, his arms crossed. “Without me, she could die.”

  Nope. Nothing. The gum was a failure. Tess glanced at Ethan, then her mom. “Everyone wants to protect me. Why is it only Gram thought I should be able to protect myself? She’s given me the opportunity to learn, and I’m going to take it.” She hadn’t planned to say that, but now that the words were out, they made more sense than anyone else around here.

  Tess stood, and pain blasted through the back of her thigh, her muscles spasming. “Oh! Leg cramp! Leg cramp,” she yelped, first hopping on one foot, then trying to stretch the offending muscles as she leaned on the couch.

  “Do you have clove oil?” her mother asked.

  “Clove what?” Was that something you cooked with?

  Her mother stepped closer, hovering. “How about blackstrap molasses?”

  Tess grimaced and grunted, the cramp growing even worse. “Nope.”

  “Yellow mustard?”

  “In the fridge,” Tess gritted out.

  Her mother hurried to the kitchen, grabbed the mustard from the refrigerator, and retrieved a spoon from the drawer. She squirted the mustard into the spoon. “Here. Eat this,” she commanded as she rushed back to Tess’s side.

  Uck. Mustard. “Seriously?”

  Her mother held the spoon to Tess’s lips. “Just do it.”

  Fine. She ate the mustard. Bleck.

  Her mother heaved a breath. “Tess, I can help you learn magic if that’s what you want.”

  “I don’t need your help.” Even as she said those words, her cramp began to subside. Okay, maybe the mustard had been a good idea, but that still didn’t make up for all the secrets her mother had kept.

  Muttering an oath, Ethan shook his head. “Don’t be foolish.”

  Tess bristled and straightened to standing. “No. My mother is a witch! A witch! She’s known about Gram’s vision since I was ten and never told me, never trained me to fend for myself.” She spit the worthless gum into its wrapper and tossed it to the table, her leg almost completely recovered. “All this time, and now I find out my mother’s Wednesday bowling league was actually a weekly witch camp.” She turned to her mother. “You were never a good bowler, by the way. I don’t know why I wanted to go with you so badly. I mean who cares about bowling. The only real reason I bugged you about it was because Faith got to go . . . Oh, no.” Tess groaned. “Tell me you didn’t train Faith.”

  “Yes, she was in the coven, but she began training with your grandmother years before the prophesy.”

  “So everyone in the family—you, Dad, Faith, Gram”—Tess cringed, and her chest ached—“you all knew about witchcraft and the vision?” The ache morphed into a sharp pain. “Get out.”

  Ethan stepped closer. “Tess, no. Don’t do this.”

  “What did you just say to me?” Her mother cast a stony stare at Tess. “I had my reasons for what I did, and I stand by them.”

  “Get out!” Betrayal ate away all thought.

  Her mother pointed to Ethan. “If I leave, so does he.”

  Ethan crossed his arms and widened his stance. “Without me, she’ll suffer a lot worse than leg cramps and paper cuts.”

  “He saved my life just last night, Mom. He’s a good person. So, get over it.”

  The glare her mother directed at Ethan softened. “Saved your life? What happened?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it now. Just go.”

  “You have my cell phone number.” Pushing her shoulders back, her mother crossed the room, picked up her luggage, then turned the doorknob. When nothing happened at the first pull, she yanked harder, and the door gave. “Call me when you come to your senses. And get this door fixed.”

  Her mother left, jerking the door shut behind her.

  “You should listen to her.” Ethan grasped Tess’s shoulders.

  She blew out an unsteady breath. “Yeah, I know. I was kind of hoping you could fix the door. My super’s an old guy—”

  “She’s our best chance at beating this thing, Tess.”

  She shrugged off his touch. Guilt and pain pressed in, squeezing her heart in a tight grip. “I never knew Gram and Mom had been fighting over me.” She headed to the kitchen. “We’ll make more progress if I work alone. There’s too much history between us that can’t be resolved overnight.”

  “I’m surprised your mother left. She believes I’m a monster.”

  “She doesn’t believe that, or she wouldn’t have gone.” Searching through the cupboard, she found the dried basil. She unscrewed the lid with fumbling fingers. “She’s always been like that. When the going gets tough, the tough clam up and run away. God forbid she share her anger with me, or any emotion for that matter.” Tess lifted the little plastic jar to her nose and breathed in the sweet leafy aroma.

  “What are you doing?”

  Tess jumped. Ethan’s voice was close, too close. She shut her eyes and breathed deeper, willing the herb to work faster. “It’s one of Gram’s remedies. Basil has the power to soothe and calm.”

  “Is it working?” He didn’t touch her, but she could feel his warmth reaching out to her. Goose bumps trailed down her arms, and she fought the urge to lean into him. She jammed the lid onto the spice jar. “Not with you so close.” Tess stepped away. “Man, I need to go to the museum.”

  “You need what?”

  She set the basil into the cupboard and closed the door. “It’s nothing. I go to the American Museum of Natural History when I think my head is going to explode.”

  “Why there?”

  Shrugging, she used a dishcloth to wipe a few crumbs off the counter. “Matt worked there as a security guard.” She glanced up into Ethan’s pity-filled eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s quiet, lots of things to stare at, and no one cares if the dinosaur exhibit makes you tear up.” He reached out a hand as if to soothe her with a touch, and she tossed the dishrag into the sink. “All right, that’s it. I’m going to shower and change. Don’t follow me.”

  She stomped off to the bathroom and shut the door. With a twist of the knob, she turned on the shower, welcoming the loud hiss that filled the room. Leaning back against the wall, she watched the steam rise over the shower curtain and cloud up the mirror. Humidity closed around her, and she gasped for breath as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Chapter 8

  “Make yourself at home.” Ethan tossed the Sunday paper on a table and headed to the bedroom, leaving Tess to wander around his apartment, her mood still sullen after her mother’s visit that morning. He stripped out of his jacket, throwing it onto the bed, along with the shirt he’d worn before his shower at Tess’s place. The afternoon sun bathed the rumpled bedding, and images of Tess in her bathrobe flashed through his mind. He forced the memory away.

  Ethan turned on his police scanner, welcoming the intermittent drone that usually kept him company night and day, then he jerked free the buttons of his borrowed shirt. Damn, he hated wearing Matt’s things. Striding to the closet, he sized up his choices.

  His wardrobe was mostly black. Funny how he’d never noticed before. He supposed it made sense. Since The Beast had made its appearance, black matched his attitude, his view of the future. Which was why he needed to stop looking at Tess the way he did. He ground his palms against his eyes, trying to rub away the sight of her this morning. Her eyes had been puffy and red. He’d wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her it would be all right. No, more than that. Much more.

  He yanked off Matt’s shirt and chucked it in the direction of his jacket. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he smelled leather from his glove. Remember what you are,
dumb ass. He removed the glove and stared at his thick, tapered nails. They glinted black and claw-like in the light of the room.

  Keeled scales covered his hand and crept up his forearm. He touched the dark-blue iridescent skin, the small ridges rough against his fingertips. The scaled skin shivered from the touch, much more sensitive than the rest of his arm.

  “Do you mind if I—”

  Ethan snatched a shirt from its hanger. Covering his arm, he spun around.

  Tess stood by the bedroom door, her eyes rounded. “Ah, sorry. Your door was open, and I . . .” Her gaze slid down to his bare chest. “Um . . . wanted . . .”

  Ethan’s groin tightened, and a strong desire to crush her body against his surged through him.

  A rosy blush flamed her cheeks, and her attention returned to his face. “A drink. Do you mind if I grab a drink from your fridge?”

  Sinking his long claws into the palm of his hand, he took a steadying breath. “Help yourself,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  She turned around and fled to the kitchen.

  He stared at the empty doorway, fighting his body’s response. What was the matter with him? Hadn’t he complicated her life enough? His body didn’t listen. Every muscle seemed to pulse in anticipation.

  Suppressing a groan, he shook his head. She didn’t have to try to be sexy. Hell, she wore a thick sweater and jeans, and still all he could think about was how the denim molded so sweetly to her ass. The attraction had been there from the start, but ever since she’d cuddled up to him while she slept, his body had gone into overdrive.

  If only they could stay here. Memories of Matt were all over her damned apartment. Here, she could be his. A low growl reverberated inside his head, and his heart hammered. The Beast. Shit. His whole attitude shifted because of that demon. His desires magnified until he felt predatory. They were running out of time.

  Ethan slipped on a black button-down shirt and changed his jeans, returning the glove to his hand. He left the bedroom and found Tess staring at photographs he’d hung on the living room wall, a Dr. Pepper in her hand.