I tried for a laugh. “I’d tell you…but I wouldn’t want to scare you.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “I write murder mysteries for a living. You can’t frighten me.”
“Maybe I scare me,” I said. “I didn’t expect things to move so quickly between us. I’d feel more comfortable if we took our time, getting to know one another.”
Wyatt nodded. “I can handle that.”
I blew out a long breath in relief. “Okay.” I nodded. “Good.”
Wyatt suddenly stood and began buttoning his shirt. “I think it’s time I head home.” He started for the door.
“Wyatt.”
He stopped with his hand on the doorknob.
“Thank you for dinner and the talk,” I said.
“Thanks for the wine.” He held open the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I rose to my feet and walked over to him. I went up on my toes to give him a soft kiss on the lips. “Goodnight, Wyatt.”
“Magnolia.” He kissed me again, nodded, and left.
I locked the door after him and remembered to engage the security system. I went around the room, turning off the lights one by one. I headed for bed, but sleep eluded me. I lay staring at the ceiling for a long time wondering about Wyatt Hastings.
I hadn’t come to William’s Ford looking for a romance, and yet I found myself teetering on the brink of one anyway.
***
After careful consideration I decided not to talk to Thomas about Leilah crashing the wedding reception at all. I did seek out Julian the next day and found him in his home office. I wasn’t at all surprised to see that he was once again dressed impeccably.
While Willow was occupied romping around the new herb gardens with Nina, I shared everything I’d learned with my cousin. Julian, in turn, proceeded to fill in the gaps on what I didn’t know. He explained some of the more ‘colorful’ Drake history with me…and it sounded damn-near medieval.
Seemed like my mama had inherited her penchant for dark magick from her daddy’s side of the family. According to Julian, his grandfather, Silas Drake had been a very ruthless man. His determination to keep the male-dominated side of the magickal family tree going had consumed him. He’d practically forced a young Thomas into an arranged marriage with what he’d considered a suitable bride, and after she’d produced a male heir, Silas considered her unnecessary. The marriage fell apart and Thomas was left to raise Julian on his own.
Silas Drake had ignored his own daughter, Rebecca, and when she’d married a mundane he’d overlooked it because his only concern had been the unbroken line of power that had passed from father to son. But when Rebecca had a son of her own—Duncan—and when he’d shown talent, then Silas had been interested…in his grandson…but not his daughter.
His callous treatment of Rebecca had caused more damage than anyone knew, and it had driven the woman power-mad. In her pursuit of a grimoire, she’d manipulated Julian, until he’d broken. When Julian explained to me how bad it had been, and what he’d been forced into doing while under her magickal influence, it made me cry for him.
“Save your sympathy,” he said. “Aunt Rebecca played on my weakness and my vanity. It was a hard lesson for me to learn. But it was a vital one.”
“I’m beginning to understand what Nina meant when she’d said that you’d walked a long dark road to find yourself again.”
“I got off easy,” Julian insisted.
“How’s that?” I asked.
“Rebecca literally murdered other Witches and mundanes who’d been in her way.” Julian folded his hands on his desk. “Including her husband—Duncan’s father. It was all in her pursuit of a dark magickal object: The Blood Moon Grimoire.”
“God almighty!” I gasped over the revelation.
He proceeded to explain that while he’d been away recovering from all the psychic damage his aunt had inflicted—hence the ‘rehab’ story to cover it up—she’d next turned her maleficence onto her own son. She’d stripped Duncan of his free will, practically making him a puppet. The woman had become unstable and deadly dangerous in her pursuit of power.
“Is that ‘pursuit of power’ why she attacked Lexie Bishop?” I asked. “I saw an article online from the local paper.”
“Rebecca had gone after the grimoire,” Julian explained. “Parts of it had been hidden in the Bishop house, and she broke in and stole them. Lexie defended herself and Morgan, who was an infant at the time.” Julian paused, sitting back in his chair. “Truthfully, there was only one person who could have stopped my aunt, really.”
“Who?” I demanded, on the edge of my seat. “Who stopped her?”
“Faye Bishop did her best, and it cost her.”
“Oh my god.” The article I’d read, I recalled. It’d said that Faye had been hospitalized the night of the fire.
“Next, Autumn burst in to the mansion. Recklessly, trying to help.” Julian shook his head. “It was brave but foolish.”
“Autumn took Rebecca on?” The thought of Autumn facing down that sort of evil made my blood run cold.
“Autumn tried,” Julian said. “She attempted to rescue Faye and when she realized she was outgunned, Autumn did the next best thing. She stalled and waited for help.”
“So what happened?”
Julian sighed over the memory. “Autumn blasted Rebecca with everything she had, and what energy Faye lent her. It bought her a few moments. She tried to get herself and her great-aunt to safety, but in the end she was outgunned. She had her ass handed to her.”
“Oh no.”
“Then my father walked in.”
I swallowed hard. I truly didn’t want to imagine that the man I’d come to care about… who’d gallantly shown up in Louisiana out of the blue when I’d needed him the most…the man who’d saved a young Wyatt and his brother from further injury on the night they’d lost their parents…watching quietly over them as they grew up; had magicked his own sister to death.
I sat silently, as Julian recounted how the battle had gone down. Explaining that Rebecca had fallen by her own hand, and that he’d been the
