Evicted Witch (Jagged Grove Book 3) Page 4

  Chapter Four

  The downtown area of Jagged Grove is quiet, but then it usually is unless there’s an event like the mayor’s party or game night at the Salty Hog. It’s the only real bar in town, and as we pass it I wonder if we’re going to stop there. Jones keeps going, though.

  Besides, maybe we’ll find Bilda today. She has to be somewhere; I just don’t think I’ll be able to get to her before Angelo does. He’s got teams of men all over the island. I’ve got a randy werewolf and a besotted teenager. The odds aren’t great that I’ll get to her first, and that worries me.

  We walk toward the docks, but then veer off through a park that I haven’t really noticed before. A few swings and a slide sit in the center, and a sign declares that we are entering The Pirate Place. A couple of picnic tables dot the area closer to the beach. It’s a little more run down than Killswallow Park in town, but that might simply be because the ocean air is not kind to metal surfaces. The paint is chipped on the equipment, and the sandbox in the far corner even looks a little ruffled. “Do kids play here?” I ask Jones.

  “Not really. They can, of course, but they seem to prefer Killswallow. Adults come here to think, more than anything, since it’s away from the residential areas.”

  I imagine some woman hiding out here to get away from her kids for an hour. Kids are hard work, if the twins are any indication, so I understand completely.

  We follow Jones to the corner of the park nearest the beach and then beyond, into a thick stand of trees. It immediately feels colder when they block out the sun. I shiver, then spot a path leading deeper into the woods.

  It looks...really dark. “Is this safe?” I ask.

  His shrug from up ahead isn’t reassuring. “We’re going to the colony. Nothing about that place is safe.

  “Jones, we have Rain with us. I want her to be safe.”

  Beside me, Rain snorts. “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah - until something eats you.”

  “Nothing is going to eat her. I’m here.” I can’t see his face, but he sounds impatient.

  Rain sighs happily. I roll my eyes.

  The path is simply dirt, a thin trail that squeezes through the trees. It’s dark in here, and the farther we get from town, the more odd noises I hear. “Jones?”

  “We’re fine,” he says, still walking. I think he even speeds up a little.

  “Jones, wait for us.”

  He stops, and I hurry to catch up, dragging Rain along by the arm. When we’re almost there, I happen to see movement right where my foot is about to land. I screech as a thin green snake slithers off into the underbrush. “That was a snake.”

  “Yeah, we have those,” he says drily.

  I want to just turn around and go home now, but this is the only other way too the colony. “Can we please hurry?”

  A weird cricket looking thing lands on the back of my hand and I shake it off. Rain laughs as I scratch the spot where it was. “Do things bite here?” I ask.

  “Uhh...yeah,” Rain says. “We’re in the woods.”

  “I don’t like the woods.”

  “I would never have guessed,” Jones deadpans. He’s moving again.

  “Don’t be an ass,” I mutter, upset that he and Rain seem to be taking this little adventure in stride, while I feel like having a small panic attack. The deeper we get into the forest, the more ominous it feels. “You’ve been here before, and I haven’t.”

  “Try to trust me, Trinket. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

  The trail is following the ocean, and when we come around one of the points I spot something farther back in the trees. “Is that a tent?” I ask, pausing. “Should we go check it out?”

  “No.” Jones stops and turns around. “Someone lives there. Leave it alone.”

  His face is so full of tension that I don’t ask any more questions, even though I wonder who would live permanently in a tent on purpose. Jagged Grove residents are provided housing when they come here. I make sure Rain is close and keep going.

  Something bites me on the back of the neck and I swat at it. “Ow.”

  “It’s just a mosquito,” Jones says without turning around. “Keep going.”

  I glare at the back of his head, but keep walking, kicking my way through undergrowth that threatens to wrap around my ankles and trip me.

  After what feels like forever, my feet are tired, even though I’m wearing sneakers. “How much farther is it?” I ask, scanning the woods around us for any more signs of human activity. If Bilda is hiding here and we walked past her without even knowing it, I would be mad at myself. And Jones. Mostly Jones.

  “We still have some ground to cover. Remember when I told you that the path was the long way around?”

  I do remember. He mentioned it on the night he took me to his special spot on the mountain. At the time it was a sweet, almost romantic gesture, but I ruined it by telling him we could only be friends. Still, I’ve been there a few times since then, because it’s a wonderful place to sit and think, and I need to do that a lot these days.

  Also, it’s got a bird’s eye view of the island. I have a better chance of spotting Bilda from there.

  We walk in silence for almost another hour before the thick trees start to thin out a little and I can see glimpses of dusky sky again. It will be dark very soon, and I don’t know how we’ll be able to find Bilda in the dark. “Shouldn’t we go home and come back in the daytime?” I ask, even though another trip through the trees is not high on my list of fun things to do right now.

  “We’ll stay the night with some friends of mine and start looking in the morning.”

  “What friends?” I feel panic rising again. “Shifters? Are we going to get eaten, Jones?”

  He stops. Turns around. Sighs loudly. “Trinket.”

  “What?” I stop, too, because I can feel his frustration from ten feet back.

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’m not going to feed you to my friends.”

  “So they are shifters.”

  He ignores me. “I promise that we will be just fine, and that you will get home in one piece.”

  “Yeah, but is it going to be a ragged, bloody piece with teeth marks?”

  “Shut up.”

  “I trust him,” Rain says, putting a small hand on Jones’s arm.

  “Of course you do,” I mutter. “Let’s go. I want to get out of these woods.”

  “Stop complaining,” Rain says.

  “Something bit me, and it feels like things are watching us through the trees. I’ll complain if I feel like it.”

  She sticks her tongue out at me and walks the rest of the way to the colony with Jones.

  I follow and worry that Bilda is lost somewhere in these woods, and that I’ll never see her again.

  It’s full dark when Jones leads us through the last of the trees and into the colony. I squint against the sudden brightness of the streetlights and look around. I’m surprised again at how much it looks like Jagged Grove. Even the streets seem to be laid out in the same small grid. The only difference is the atmosphere. Just like the last time I was here, a heavy sort of gloom fills the air. It’s like Jagged Grove with depression.

  The colony doesn’t have a name, as far as I know. According to Angelo, people who live here are people who don’t want to live in Jagged Grove, either because they were dragged here against their will like me, or because they just don’t like it on that end of the island. More worrisome is his implication that less...nice...supernaturals live over here - the kind who don’t play well with others.

  I’m worried that Bilda is here and in trouble. At least one coven of wicked witches resides here, and who knows how many shifters. At least there aren’t vampires, too - Angelo told me that Blakely was the only one on the island.

  Or did he say the only one in Jagged Grove? I’m not sure, and that scares me.

  “Where should we start?” I ask.

  “Tula.” Jones starts walking and I follow.
r />   “Uh...no?”

  He doesn’t even turn around. He says, “Do you want to find Bilda or not?”

  “Of course. But Tula attacked me, remember?”

  “She was hurting. Give her a break.”

  “Who’s Tula?” Rain asks. “And why did she attack you?”

  “Aries’s daughter. She thinks Mom killed Aries.”

  “Oh. That makes sense, if Bilda had actually done it.” She slows down a little, until I’m beside her. Her voice drops. “We do know that Bilda didn’t do it, right? I mean, she’s like our savior, but I don’t guess that means she-.”

  “She’s innocent.” I hope.

  “Good.”

  Jones stops in front of a small cottage with its porch light on, illuminating a tiny patch of lawn and a weather-beaten front stoop. I can see lights on in the windows. He steps up onto the stoop and knocks, making me wince at the sharp sound. It seems that the colony is as quiet as Jagged Grove after nightfall.

  When the door finally opens, it isn’t Tula. Instead, a man with a pot belly and ripped blue jeans is there. The jeans are unbuttoned at the waist. “Help ya?” he grunts, not opening the screen door.

  “Is Tula home?” Jones asks.

  The man grunts again. “Nope. Ain’t been home for a couple of days now. You see her, tell her I’m gettin’ impatient.”

  He’s disgusting. “Impatient for what?” I ask, stepping closer to Jones so that I can stand on the stoop, too.

  He looks me up and down. “She’ll know,” he says. “Unless you want to take her place.”

  I step back down and turn away. The door closes, not quite cutting off his laughter.

  I didn’t get a really good look at Tula before she came after me that day, but the impression I got was of a younger, prettier girl who deserved better than that Neanderthal.

  “Where is she? And why would she be with this guy?” I ask Jones.

  “I think he’s her dad,” Jones answers. “Let’s go.”

  Stunned, I follow along. If this man is Tula’s dad, then he’s probably Aries’s husband. Well, was Aries’s husband. At some point. But Aries was a business owner and a teacher, and from what I could see a confident, put-together woman. Why would she be with him? It didn’t make sense.

  Jones steps back onto the street and then stands there, like he’s trying to decide what to do next. I watch him for a moment, then veer off down the sidewalk in a different direction than he’s looking. Rain stops, not sure who to follow. Jones turns. “Where are you going?” he half whispers.

  “Dravo. I’m sure he knows something about this,” I half whisper back at him. “Why are we whispering?”

  Rain says to Jones, “It’s as good a place to start as any. This place real.ly is creepy.”

  I don’t care what they do. I head for Dravo’s big house. I’m relieved when they follow, though.

  I haven’t spoken to him since the day Aries was killed, and I still can’t think of him as Dad, even though the evidence is pretty clear that that’s who he is. I have other surprise family members here, too, including at least one aunt, maybe two, and a sister. Well, half-sister. OK, dead half-sister ghost who tried to kill me.

  Anyway, I’m suddenly swamped with family, when before it was just me, Aunt Louise, and Bilda. I thought we were alone in the world.

  “Why are we going to Dravo’s again?” Jones asks. He’s beside me now, keeping up. Rain is trailing a little behind, probably staring at his butt.

  “Because Bilda doesn’t know anyone over here, so who else would she trust to help her?”

  I doubt she trusts him, either, but at least she knows him. I’m fairly certain that my father’s pinky finger is with the rest of Mom’s stuff, wherever that is now. That’s a story I want to hear someday. Not.

  I make my way slowly down the street, remembering the way as I go. We pass a few couples and one louder group of people on the way. They all seem harmless enough, but they give off a weird vibe. It’s a mix between leave-me-alone and come-be-my-supper. On one corner, we have to skirt around two witches having a screeching match over a bag of pennyroyal. One jerks it from the other’s hand, but then spills some of it onto the sidewalk before she gets a good grip. I look away.

  Dravo’s house is more like a mansion, spanning almost a full city block. It looks as intimidating as the man who owns it. I pause and see that there are lights on in the front windows and people moving around inside.

  I turn to Jones. “Lett me go talk to him. You guys wait here, and -.”

  “Why?” Rain asks, planting her hands on her hips. “We came all the way over here just to stand on the sidewalk?”

  “No. Sorry. I’ll be right back, I promise.”

  “You may all come inside.”

  All three of us jump. I turn to see Dravo standing near the door. “Trinket, you aren’t good at hiding - I saw you the moment you stepped onto my property. Why aren’t you using a cloaking spell?”

  I feel like a little kid - caught. He’s just as imposing as he was the first - and last - time I met him. “I-I wasn’t trying to hide. I just didn’t want to barge in on you if you were busy.” I ignore the cloaking spell remark. I don’t know how to do one of those, but according to Rachel he thinks I’m some powerful witch.

  I’m about to disappoint him.

  He sighs and opens the door, holding it wide. Light spills out onto the walkway. “Come inside. All of you.”

  We file past him and find ourselves standing in a small hall that leads to what smells like the kitchen. “Pot roast,” Rain whispers, inhaling deeply.

  “Hush.” I nudge her with my elbow.

  “No. I haven’t had a decent meal in days.” She stares pointedly at me.

  “It’s fine,” Dravo says. “You are welcome to stay for supper.”

  He’s every bit as big as I remember from our one and only meeting last week. His frame almost blocks the light, making him seem menacing. He closes the door behind us and drops a hand on my shoulder, making me jump again, but he’s just leading us through to a really fancy kitchen. Beyond that I can see a dining room table that stretches out forever, like a football field. Along the wall I can see through the doorway, a series of life-sized marble sculptures stand on pedestals. Is everything about this man huge? Under different circumstances, I think it would be fun to tour the house. I bet there are lots of beautiful things here.

  “Hello, sir,” I say, looking up at him.

  “Good evening. I take it this isn’t exactly a social visit?”

  “No sir.” I look up into his eyes and see kindness there, and maybe a hint of sorrow. “I was hoping you might know where Bilda is hiding out.”

  His laughter is warm. “My dear, I’m the last person Bilda would seek out.” That’s definitely sadness in his eyes, in spite of the chuckle. It strikes me that he still loves her, but I have no idea if that’s true, or just my overactive and tired imagination. The history between them isn’t what I thought it was, but it’s still a mystery.

  “Have you heard anything at all?”

  “Heard anything?”

  “Rumors, I mean.”

  Jones and Rain are walking past us, on into the house, looking around at the art. I see her nudge him, point to one sculpture, and grin. Jones’s face turns red, and he quickly moves away. From where I’m standing, it looks like a nude.

  Typical teenager.

  “They are making themselves at home,” Dravo says. “Can we talk? Privately?”

  “Of course,” I say, even though I’m scared to death. Now that I’m standing in front of him, I’m glad Jones and Rain came with me.

  I follow him down another hall and up a set of stairs. We’re on the second landing before I realize that Jones is following us. Dravo doesn’t seem to notice, and I don’t say a word. I feel better knowing he’s close.

  But then he leads me into a room, then turns and closes the door behind us. I hear a lock click, and immediately I’m tense again.

  The room is w
hat some folks used to call a parlor, I think, or a sitting room. Leather sofas and club chairs sit strategically around a wall-length fireplace. There is a small fire, in spite of the summer heat outside. I walk to it and see that the mantle is lined with photos.

  They seem to be of Dravo and Rachel, for the most part. One or two of them show him standing with his arm around a woman I don’t know, possibly Rachel’s mom. In a single small picture, I see him sitting and holding a baby. The baby is wearing a frilly dress - obviously a girl. He’s grinning down at her and the love in his eyes is breathtaking. I can’t help but smile.

  Dravo comes to stand beside me. I jump when he puts a hand on my shoulder - again. I’m not used to being touched like this by a man I don’t know. It’s a good indication that he’s not going to kill me and stuff me in the fireplace, though, so that’s something.

  “The baby is you,” he says, nodding toward the last photo.

  I blink and look closer. “Really?”

  The fact that he has a picture of me that I’ve never seen is somehow sweet and creepy all at the same time. I have so many questions for him that I don’t know where to start, but now is not the time. A family reunion will have to wait until I find Bilda - my real family.

  “I was so happy when you were born.” His voice is wistful, which is interesting when it comes from such a big man. “I took you everywhere with me. Barely let poor Bilda hold you.”

  I stare at him, trying to imagine it, and can’t. He seems so reserved and stiff, I just cannot see him playing happily with a small baby, even though the proof is right here in front of me. “Where is my mom in this picture?”

  The square set of his jaw tightens. “I’m not sure,” he says. “It was a long time ago.”

  His demeanor shifts, and suddenly he’s all business. “Please have a seat,” he says, gesturing toward one of the leather chairs. Then he pours us both a drink and sits down across from me.

  “Now, how can I help you?”

  “I need to find Bilda before something happens. I was told that they will arrest her when they find her.”

  He startles. “For what?”

  I lean forward in my chair a little. It feels like the cool, supple leather is swallowing me. “Murder. You said that she didn’t do it. You said you knew that for a fact, which means you know where she was when Aries was killed. I was hoping you know where she is now, too.”