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Soft and warm in his arms, she gazed up at him.
“I wasn’t gone long.” He kissed her, savoring it, before he continued. “Zoë, I’m going to stay in Carbrey and sort this out, but I want you to leave. You should go back to London, this morning.”
“You want me to go?” Hurt flickered in her eyes.
“No, not at all. I want you to be safe. If you don’t want to go home yet, you can spend the rest of your visit at my place in Edinburgh.”
She placed her hands flat to his chest. “If you were there, that would be a tempting offer.” She smiled briefly, and then it faded. “I can’t leave. Now I’ve seen the magic it’s got me thinking about something else. When I tried to leave, when I drove to Dundee, I had to fight the urge to come back the whole time. It was like this huge relief when I did get back.”
Damn. He recalled her mentioning it the night before, as they made their escape. “Sounds like a binding spell.”
She sighed deeply. “I can’t get my head around this. I’ve seen it and I’ve been forced to believe it—all of it, even the visions Annabel puts in my head—but I still don’t understand it, and I need to.” She stared up at him. “Grayson, it was so weird when I was with them last night, I had so little control. And when I saw you…and what you did, the magic.” She swallowed then shook her head. “I need to know why you’re different from them.”
He nodded. “The witchcraft that exists here is pagan in origin, pure and positive in intent. For centuries it’s been practiced happily amongst normal folk who live normal lives and use their powers for good. Occasionally, however, a practitioner—a witch—will crave what they perceive to be the greater power that magic opens up to them—the darker path that it also affords.”
“Cain?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Her expression was unfathomable for a moment, and then she responded. “What are we going to do?”
If she wasn’t able to leave, he wasn’t going to let her stray from his side until she could. “First, we’re going to move your stuff into Cornerstone. You’ll be safe there. Then I’ll begin to undo the magic that has been done.”
“You can do that?”
“I need to get advice, but I promise you I will.” Or die trying, he thought himself. “I’ll take you to Abernathy, I can ask the coven there about undoing the binding spell that has been put on you.”
“Will I be able to go there? I’m pulled back…even now I want to be in the village, and we’re barely outside it.”
“It’s not far. As the crow flies, barely a few cliffs separate the two villages.”
She nodded. She was quiet but thoughtful, and he sensed she was mending.
“Do you trust me?”
“I always trusted you. Even when I hadn’t the first clue what you were on about.” She reached for the clothes he’d brought for her. “Call it instinct.”
He watched as she pulled on the clothes, each move she made washing over him like a wish coming true.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you practiced magic, too?” she asked.
“What would you have done, had I mentioned it up front?”
She thought about it for a moment. “Hmm, difficult one. I guess I might have thrown you out?”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you.”
She laughed softly, and rested her hand on his shoulder for a moment, looking up at him with affection in her eyes.
That made him strong.
When they got back to the car, he did a U-turn, driving slowly back toward the village. They passed the short journey in silence and when he pulled the car to a halt at the junction on the seafront, they both stared at the devastation. Signposts had been bent or ripped off their poles. A litter bin had strewn its contents across the road. The harbor was more crowded than it had been before, and the boatyard doors were open.
Crawford Logan was outside the boatyard, watching, waiting, as they drove back onto Shore Lane. He ran over to the car, shouting into Grayson’s open window as he drove by with Zoë in the passenger seat. “It’s only a matter of time, Murdoch. Wheels have been set in motion.”
He had an insufferable grin on his face, and Grayson hit the accelerator, speeding past him.
Zoë’s eyebrows shot up. “Blimey, they think they own me.” She gave a disbelieving laugh.
