
# MORE THAN A FEELING

THE PREQUEL TO THE CLAIRE WICHE CHRONICLES

Cate Dean

Copyright, 2016

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except for use in any review. This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, locales, and events are either pure invention or used fictitiously, and all incidents come from the author's imagination alone.

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Cover art by Nadica Boskovska

Cover Design by ResplendentMedia.com

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Sign up for Cate's list: <http://catedeanwrites.com/join-my-list/> to learn about new releases.

# Table of Contents

Copyright Page

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

About The Author

Further Reading: Rest For The Wicked

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# ONE

Annie Sullivan stopped when she spotted the store on the other side of Forest Street. One she'd only glanced at before today. Before she acknowledged her growing power; before she found herself alone.

"The Wiche's Broom." She felt a smile coming on--her first in three months. "I bet there's a story behind that one."

At least it would be a distraction. And she badly needed a distraction.

Jaywalking across the two lane street, she opened the glass door, looking up when a bell chimed over her head. Not a headache-inducing screech, like the buzzers she'd set off when walking in other stores. Just enough to alert the sales staff in case they were out of sight of the door.

She stepped inside the store, and immediately felt calm. The scent of lavender soothed her--a nice alternative to the choking amount of patchouli Madame Serena pumped into the air at The Witch's Way. Her store was three times the size of this one, but Annie never seemed to find what she needed.

Three steps in she saw the shelf of crystals.

"Oh--yes." She strode over to the tall shelf, trying to take it all in at once. The crystals were displayed for easy access, some on stands, some spread out across the shelf, the palm size crystals in a shallow basket. And bless whoever did it, they were arranged by type, instead of size. The way Madame Serena had hers marching from smallest up on dark wood shelves gave Annie a headache every time she tried to find a particular one. "Amethyst crystals--where are the amethyst--"

"Third shelf down, on your right." The voice froze her, the kindness in it touching a part of her she thought she managed to bury with her parents. "Is it for a particular use? Or were you wanting something decorative?"

Annie swallowed, forced herself to smile as she turned to face the voice's owner. The smile faded when she looked down--nearly a foot down from her own almost six foot height--and met silver-edged blue eyes.

She blurted out her real reason for coming in before she could stop herself. "It's for--I'm just learning about my powers, now that my--"

A small, warm hand closed over her wrist when she faltered. "It is an exciting, scary time for you, isn't it? How long have you known?"

Annie blinked at her, and to her horror, tears started to fill her eyes.

"I have to go."

That hand tightened on her wrist, incredibly strong for such a petite woman. "Please stay. You need to talk. I can listen, and hopefully, offer you some relief."

Before Annie could refuse, the woman wrapped an arm around her waist and let her through the long, narrow store. A round table sat in the back, on a colorful rug. The woman settled Annie in the closest chair and moved to the chair on the other side of the table. It gave Annie a few seconds to blink her eyes clear, and study her new acquaintance.

A gorgeous face framed those unusual eyes, and a cloud of red brown hair surrounded it, falling almost to her waist. A blue blouse and black trousers enhanced her slender figure. She made Annie, with her jeans, boots and oversized jacket, feel like a plodding giant.

Those feelings faded when she sat, and smiled across the table. "I am Claire."

"Annie."

"Annie Sullivan?" Her heart clenched. She nodded, staring at the table. And jerked in shock when one arm slid over her shoulders. "I am so sorry for your loss, Annie."

The same kindness filled Claire's low voice, and shattered the thin wall Annie managed to build between her and her pain.

"I can't--"

"You can. You need to. Let it go, Annie."

Just like that, all the rigid control disappeared.

Annie cried, like she should have at the funeral, at the cemetery, with her parents' friends. It took a stranger to finally allow her to give in to the overwhelming loss.

When she finally came up for air, feeling like an idiot, Claire handed her a box of tissue.

"Stay put. I'm going to get you some water. Hey," she paused in the doorway of the back room. "Do you happen to like roast beef?" Annie's stomach growled, and she clutched it, embarrassed. Claire smiled. "I'll take that as a yes. I have half of my sandwich left over from lunch. It's yours."

"Why are you doing this?"

Pain flared in the silver blue eyes, disappeared so fast Annie wasn't sure if she imagined it.

"I know what it is to be alone. To lose everything you are, in a moment." She cleared her throat. "So--roast beef and water, coming up. You stay right there."

The words should have sounded bossy. Should have gotten Annie's back up. She hated the holier-than-thou attitude, the "I know what's good for you" speeches disguised as concern.

But Claire's words were--real. And Annie was more than a little curious about the woman who effortlessly broke through, when even her closest friends had been shut out.

Claire swept back in, set down a real plate, with--oh, God love her--one of the roast beef sandwiches from Lily's takeout just down the street. Annie's taste buds were already doing a happy dance.

"I think I love you." The words jumped out of her mouth before she could stop them. Claire's laughter had her blushing.

"Lily is a genius with food. I've been addicted since my first bite. Please, Annie--eat. You look like you haven't had a good meal in a while. I know how grief can chip away at you."

"Claire." The other woman smiled at her. She looked--ageless. Not a line on her face, but Annie knew, somehow, Claire's real age was not showing on her face. "Thank you, for--everything."

"It was my greatest pleasure." She leaned down, set a heart-shaped amethyst on the table next to Annie's hand. "And this is a gift. I hope it will help to ease some of the pain you carry." Annie looked up, saw the gorgeous amethyst point Claire wore on a silver chain. She obviously favored them. "Take your time--I'll be up front if you need anything."

Feeling lighter than she had in months, Annie took her first bite of the roast beef, and sank into food nirvana. Claire's laughter echoed from the front of the store, and Annie relaxed in the chair, closing her free hand over the amethyst heart.

The part of her that had pushed down her power, her need, knew the moment she touched it. She had come home.

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# TWO

Claire waited for Annie to make the next move. While she did, she assisted customers, and planned the next addition to the Halloween display in her window, glancing every so often toward the back.

The young woman's grief was almost visible, a wall she put between herself and the rest of the world. Claire had watched her for a few minutes before approaching her, wanting to ease the ache that showed in every movement.

She had not planned to open the well.

Getting close to--anyone, was not an option for her. As a shopkeeper, in a beach town that lured visitors from around the world, Claire had all the socializing she could ever want. But something about the tall blonde sitting at her table reached in past her solid defenses. That something could be dangerous for both of them.

The bell over the door chimed, and Claire looked up, letting out a mental sigh when her least favorite customer toddled in. She forced an easy smile and walked around the counter.

"Good afternoon, Mildred. How can I help you today?"

The old woman blinked at her, wringing her hands. That was not a good sign with Mildred.

"I need your help, Claire." She sounded spooked, instead of her usual borderline rude.

Claire took her hands, surprised by her icy skin. "Tell me what happened."

"I went to visit Harold, like I do every week. Leaves are the worst this time of year, and he's resting right under a tree. That was his idea, of course." She sniffed. "I told him I'd be the one dealing with his bad decision--"

"What happened next?" Claire knew if she didn't gently prod, the old woman would ramble on endlessly.

"I just finished whisking off the top of his headstone and--I saw it," she whispered, her voice wavering more than usual. Claire wrapped one arm around her shoulders when she started shaking. "A ghost, staring at me like he wants to--possess me." She shuddered, clutching at Claire's hand. "I nearly fainted dead away right then and there."

"Are you certain it wasn't another visitor?"

Mildred raised both eyebrows. "Quite. I could see through him." She lost all pretense of fear, her voice changing to the high-pitched, excited voice that always had Claire stepping back. She did so now, because Mildred also started waving her free hand around. "He practically swooped down on me, like an avenging angel, or--a demon."

Claire gave herself points for not flinching. "Can you describe him? Aside from the swooping."

"Tall, dark hair to his shoulders. He had on a black coat, one that went all the way to his ankles. Like Heathcliff." Mildred sighed, the sound more suited to a teenager than a seventy eight year old woman.

"More like Sutherland." Annie stepped around the tall shelf, arms crossed. "Daniel Sutherland, the local legend. You haven't heard about him?" Claire shook her head. "He was one of the original founders of Santa Luna, but it wasn't called that when they first built the town. The town was originally named after his fiancee, Juliet."

Claire studied her. "Why haven't I heard this before?"

"Because you run a woo woo store?" Annie smiled. "It's not something the local Chamber of Commerce likes getting around. According to what I read--before the book was yanked out of the library--Daniel killed his fiancee and committed suicide. On Halloween."

*

Mildred refused to return to the cemetery with them, so Claire let her go, slipping a quartz crystal in her hand.

"It will help calm you, Mildred, and it's free of charge. I'll talk to you soon."

She guided the old woman out of the shop, watched her toddle down the sidewalk, yelling at the two local kids who were foolish enough to step in her path. Claire smiled, knowing she would be just fine. When she stepped back inside, Annie waited for her, hands on her hips.

"You're not thinking of going there."

"Do you know anything about ghosts, Annie?"

The young woman looked surprised by the question. "I--not really."

"They can become trapped, doomed to wander where their soul has been bound. Do you believe this Daniel Sutherland committed murder?"

"I--"

"Don't think, just answer."

"No." Annie sighed, and lowered her hands. "Their story was one of the most romantic I've ever read. If Daniel's diary entries are accurate, he loved Juliet more than life."

"Where is she buried?"

"The family graveyard. The Sutherland family graveyard."

"Interesting." Claire moved behind the counter and pulled out her personal stash of crystals and potions. "Since Mildred saw Daniel in the town cemetery, I am going to guess he is buried there. Away from his family, away from his love. Though someone had enough influence for him to be buried in consecrated ground, if the story of suicide is true."

"That part was pretty official, according to what I read. He was found not far from his mansion, the day after the murder." Annie leaned over the counter, her nose all but buried in the padded bag. "What's this--wow. Is that, like, your witch kit?"

Claire smiled. "Something like that. Are you coming?"

"You're going--right now?"

"I can close the shop a few minutes early. I'd like to reach the cemetery before dark, to give myself time to set up. I could use an extra pair of hands." And the power Annie had no idea she radiated.

Claire opened her laptop and typed in Daniel Sutherland. The summoning would be easier with an image. Several popped up in the results, and her eyes widened. He had been a striking man, and he looked familiar. Too familiar. She studied the strongest photo of him, and her unease grew.

Dark hair fell to his broad shoulders, framing an angular, patrician face. He had been tall, if the chair he stood next to was of normal height. Claire realized she was staring, and sent the image to the printer.

He won't recognize you, not now.

She brought up a couple of bios, which confirmed her suspicion. The man she met would never have killed his fiancee. All she had to do now was summon him--and find a way to break him out of the cemetery.

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# THREE

Despite every warning she could think of running through her mind, Annie followed Claire to the Santa Luna cemetery. Damn, she wanted to be part of this. Today was the first time since her parents died that she felt something beyond crushing grief. She knew the woman driving the car in front of her was the reason.

Who knew walking into the cleverly named Wicca store would end up with her heading for the cemetery to summon the ghost of a murderer?

"Alleged murderer," she muttered, turning on to the street that ran alongside the cemetery. "I always thought he was too hot to do what he was accused of." Not that looks should have been a measurement of guilt or innocence, but any woman would be crazy to cheat on someone so easy on the eyes. The sun was already setting, and that only added a whole new level of creepy to this whole idea. "Just play back up, Annie. It's not like anything's actually going to happen."

That made her feel better, and by the time she stopped behind Claire and got out of the car, she was calmer, and almost ready for the adventure.

Claire waited for her at the iron side gate, the small black bag in her hand, the breeze tugging at her black leather jacket. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah--I guess."

"You'll be fine, Annie." Claire smiled at her before she pushed open the gate. It squealed like a banshee. "Appropriate."

Annie burst out laughing. "I like you, Claire."

"Good, because I like you, Annie Sullivan." She looked--surprised. "The summoning is simple. I wrote it down for you." She pulled a slip of paper out of her jacket pocket and handed it over. "All we need to do is light candles, then read that three times, together."

Annie held the paper up to the stylized light that topped the gate post. "That's--short. I expected--"

"A long, complicated spell?" Claire smiled. "Sometimes simple works best. Let's go."

Fog crawled across the ground as they moved deeper into the cemetery, toward the older headstones. Some of them were like mini mausoleums, huge monuments to whoever was buried in the ground. One of the biggest belonged to Daniel Sutherland.

Claire set the bag down and opened it, pulling out white candles. A lot of white candles. She started handing them to Annie. "Place them around the headstone. Here's a lighter. You can light the candles as you go."

"Got it." Annie set one on each corner of the absurdly huge headstone, lighting each one before she moved around to the back. She picked up more from the growing cache on the ground, and after a minute, the glow of candlelight was almost as bright as a streetlamp. "Did you want them anywhere else?"

"No, this will do." Claire lit the last candle, flipped the lighter closed, and slipped it in her jacket pocket. "Ready?"

Annie swallowed; focusing on the prep had taken her mind off the reason they were here. "Yeah."

"Come, take my hand, and we'll speak the summoning together."

Annie took her outstretched hand, surprised to find her skin warm, even with the cool, fog shrouded night. With shaking fingers, she pulled the paper out of her pocket and nodded. Claire faced the headstone, squeezed Annie's hand, and started speaking.

"Shadows lurking in the night,

I summon you,

come to us tonight."

Annie joined her in the middle of the first round, and they spoke together this time.

"Shadows lurking in the night,

I summon--"

"What do you want?"

Annie stumbled backward as the tall figure materialized, looking far too solid to be a ghost. If she hadn't just seen him appear out of thin air, she'd swear he had been hiding behind one of the tall headstones.

Instead of looking scared, Claire crossed her arms, like she had expected him to appear.

"You terrified a friend of mine. I came to find out why."

"I am a bloody ghost." He strode across the space separating them, fog curling around his legs, and loomed over Claire. She didn't even blink. "I terrify by existing. Though you do not seem to be affected..." His eyes narrowed. "You are familiar to me. Do I--"

"No." Claire retreated, and Annie finally saw fear on her face.

Daniel Sutherland paced her. Oh, yeah, Annie recognized him, the candlelight flickering over his handsome face. And he became more solid with every step, until she couldn't see the flickering candles through him.

That's not possible--he's a ghost--

"Who are you?" Daniel's deep voice interrupted her denial. "You are a witch. I recognized that immediately. But there is something--you are far more, though you hide it well." He kept going until he'd trapped Claire against the side of his headstone. "How do I know you?"

"You don't." She lifted her chin, which barely reached his chest, and met his narrowed eyes. "But I know you are in pain, Daniel Sutherland. I am here to help you."

"Help me?" He let out a hollow laugh that chilled Annie. "There is nothing you can do to help me, witch. Now leave--leave me to my solitude."

"I can break the cycle, Daniel."

Claire touched his wrist. She didn't go through his wrist like she should have--she touched his wrist. What the hell was going on?

"What are you saying, witch?" The rage in his voice blasted Annie, sent her stumbling back. She expected to find at least a bruise, somewhere, in the aftermath. It felt like he'd punched her. She forgot the pain when Daniel trapped Claire against the headstone. "What are you saying?"

She never flinched, not even when the ugly bruise appeared on her cheek.

"I can free Juliet."

He moved--so fast he was a blur. Annie tripped when he appeared in front of her, and let out a surprised cry when he picked her up, his hands cold on her arms.

"Tell me the truth. Why are you here?"

"We are telling you the truth." Annie lost her fear when she looked into his eyes. Dark blue eyes, the grief in them so deep it called to her own. "We came here to help you."

"Why?"

"Because--I know what it's like to be separated from the people you love most in the world."

To her horror, tears stung her eyes, refusing to go away this time. They slipped down her cheeks as she stared into the eyes of the man who shouldn't be able to touch her, never mind make her--feel. She wasn't ready to feel, not yet.

His thumb wiped at her tears, his solid touch startling not only because it was solid, but because it wasn't as cold as it should have been.

"Let her go." Claire's voice whipped out, low and furious. "Or I walk away, and you are stuck here. For eternity."

Daniel dropped his hands and swung around. "I am already in Hell. How can you possibly make my existence worse?"

"By giving you a glimpse of hope, and leaving you with only that. I want to help you, Daniel Sutherland. But I will walk away, right now, if you do not keep your hands off my friend."

Annie stared at her. She was like a mama bear, protecting her cub. It surprised Annie, that Claire claimed her as a friend so soon, but for the first time since her parents died, she didn't feel so alone.

After endless seconds, he finally answered her. "Tell me, witch."

"We start by breaking you out of here."

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# FOUR

Claire could have told Daniel that just by acknowledging his presence, he was free to leave the cemetery. But he was so strong; stronger than she had suspected. He nearly recognized her, and did recognize the part of her she could never completely hide.

She needed to have control, which meant lying to him. Enough for him to depend on her. That he could see her past the barrier she kept between herself and--

Claire cut off the useless thought, and straightened her shoulders.

"I need you to close your eyes, Daniel, and trust me."

Both eyebrows rose at that. "Trust a witch? I hardly think--"

"I am trusting a suspected murderer. How is that different?"

Amusement flashed in his dark blue eyes. "Very well. It is not as if you could kill me again."

He closed his eyes, and Claire laid her hand on his chest. His solid chest. She had heard of this phenomenon--ghosts with enough power to completely manifest. But she had never seen one able to keep themselves so completely in the living world.

She whispered some Latin nonsense under her breath, then stepped back. "You will be able to walk free now, Daniel."

"Ah." A wry smile crossed his face. "That I have always been able to do." Shock jolted her. "What I cannot do, witch, is keep my Juliet from reliving her murder. A murder I did not commit."

"How do we know that?" Annie stalked over to him, her face still pale, but anger flashing in her eyes. "I want to believe you, but every piece of evidence points to you as her killer."

"I have the perfect alibi. I was killed the night she died. Before she died. I was on my way to her when I was attacked."

"Your death was ruled a suicide."

"You think me unaware of that slander? I watched those fools publicly denounce me, watched my own mother beg and bribe to see me buried here, rather than in an unmarked grave."

Claire stepped forward, taking Annie's hand. "Did you ever see who killed you?"

Daniel shook his head. "The bloody coward jumped me. They also ripped apart my reputation by framing me for Juliet's death. Because of that accusation, and the fact that I was not found until after her murder, no other suspect was ever considered. Because of that," he moved again, a blur that materialized at Claire's side. "Juliet has suffered for nearly two hundred years. I am unable to stop her murder, unable to get closer to her than arm's length. Even then, I cannot see the face of her murderer. Tell me, witch, that you can break her out of her personal Hell."

"My name is Claire, and I can try, Daniel. How long do I have?"

"She was murdered just before midnight, on All Hallows' Eve."

Claire swallowed, fear creeping in.

Halloween was tomorrow.

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# FIVE

Daniel agreed to meet them at The Wiche's Broom, a name he recognized from his nightly wanderings of Santa Luna.

Once the two women left him, he allowed himself to fade, his strength all but depleted. He seldom manifested completely, preferring near invisibility to hysterical screaming. The modern world had forgotten how thin the wall between life and death could be, that the spirits of those they loved, and hated, were close, often watching them for years before they finally lost the will to hold on to this world and faded away.

Juliet kept him here; her agony tied him as securely as physical ropes, and he would not leave her until she was free. He owed her that much, when he had not been there to protect her.

The image of her filled his mind, as it had every night since his death, wrapping around his heart, torturing him. Clear blue eyes that had been able to look straight into his soul, a heart-shaped face, dark brown curls, their silky feel against his fingers as clear as if he had touched them yesterday. Her smile, her warm laugh, the scent of lavender that had always clung to her soft skin--every detail drove into him, left him aching and laid bare.

"Forgive me, my love," he whispered, his voice quieter than the fog sliding over the damp grass. "I will find a way to free you this time, even if I must sacrifice myself and the witch to do so."

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# SIX

"You can't trust him, Claire." Annie paced the front of the narrow store, her hands still shaking. Good God--she'd talked to a ghost. It took the drive back here to get the rest of her to stop shaking. "Even if he didn't kill his fiancee, he'll do anything to free her."

"I am aware, Annie." Claire sorted through a box on the counter, looking far too calm. "I plan to help him do so."

"How?"

With a sigh, Claire looked at her. "I don't know." She pushed some of the red brown hair off her cheek, as damp as Annie's from the fog that had cloaked the cemetery by the time they left. Annie's curls had become an uncontrollable mess. "But I have a couple sources I want to check. I've never dealt with a ghost before."

"Could have fooled me."

Claire's smile helped calm the last of her nerves. "I looked up our Daniel Sutherland before we left. My takeaway was that he would respect confidence, so that is what I gave him."

"You weren't scared?"

"Terrified, actually. Especially when he became as substantial as any living man."

"What the hell? I didn't even know ghosts could do that."

"We can if we have been here for a good length of time." Daniel appeared next to the door, and Annie cursed as she tripped to avoid running into him. Or through him this time. He was more transparent than visible. "I did not mean to startle you. There are few ways I can appear and not have that effect."

"We should have expected you, Daniel, since I asked you to meet us here." Claire waved Annie over to the counter, and pulled what looked like a thousand year old book out of the box. "Ah. I was hoping I still had this." She opened the book, and Annie swore moths fell out of it. Claire swiped the counter before she could be sure. "It's my mentor's grimoire."

"Grimoire--you mean, like a spell book." Annie rubbed her arms, staring at the book. "Aren't those for black magic?"

"Many witches keep grimoires." Claire looked at her, amusement in her silver blue eyes. "My mentor was Wicca, Annie. No black magic allowed."

"Okay." She wanted to crumple in relief, but she figured that would be rude. "You're looking through it tonight?"

"I wanted to make certain I still had it. Most of the spells in here are those I use frequently, so I haven't had need of the book for dec--years." She avoided looking at Daniel or Annie, and carefully closed the grimoire. "I was afraid I might have lost it when I moved here." She picked up the book and walked around the counter. "Why don't you go home, get some sleep? We can meet early tomorrow, and look through the grimoire when we're fresh."

Annie raised an eyebrow. "You're going to look at it as soon as I leave, aren't you?"

Guilt flashed across Claire's face. "You're exhausted--"

"And younger than you. I'll go hit Billie's Pub for a late dinner and her strongest coffee. You do drink coffee?"

"I do. Annie--"

"No argument. We're in this together, Claire."

"I was going to say thank you."

"Oh."

"I will phone ahead and order dinner. My treat, Annie, since I will be the one keeping you up late. Steak dinner?"

"Yeah." She moved to the door while Claire punched in Billie's number and looked up at Daniel. "You're not going to be jealous or anything, watching us eat?"

"I have forgotten the taste of food, Annie Sullivan." A smile flashed across his face. "But thank you, for your concern."

"You really stayed here, all this time, for Juliet?"

He swallowed, and Annie saw the helpless grief. She recognized it, knew her own intimately.

"I love her," he whispered. "I have always loved her, more than life."

Annie tilted her head, studying him. "You said love, present tense."

"Do you not still love your parents, even though they are gone?"

"What?" She felt the color drain out of her face, and she flinched away from him. "How do you--"

"I was there, when you said goodbye to them. Your grief drew me, so raw, so deep. I am sorry for your loss."

She looked at him, tears filling her eyes. "Thank you."

Claire's voice pulled her out of the moment. "It will be ready by the time you get there... Annie?"

She met Claire's worried gaze. "I'm okay. Daniel and I are just--bonding." She stopped at the door, and met Claire's eyes. "I'm glad I walked into your store today."

"So am I, Annie."

She unlocked the door and stepped outside, knowing that no matter what happened, she would never regret stepping through this door.

*

Daniel's presence turned out to be more useful than Claire had expected. Not only was he able to decipher Meredith's appalling handwriting, he was able to fill in blanks--and point out mistakes.

"This," he said, his finger hovering over another list. "Working through this list will only waste your time. It was a fad, more than a hundred years ago--"

"Thank you. I'll cross it off." Claire tried to hide her shock at his knowledge. Every time he found something else in the grimoire, he was closer to pinpointing a truth she could not allow to be revealed.

When Annie yawned for the third time in ten minutes, Claire decided to trust her enough to move the party to her house. She was less certain of Daniel, but she knew they couldn't do this without his input. As long as she kept him occupied, and steered him away from information that would reveal too much, she could get through this. After tomorrow night--now tonight, since it was long past midnight--she would no longer need to worry about him.

She cleared her throat. "I live at the end of the alley, just off the parking lot behind the shop. Let's continue this there."

"Convenient." Annie covered her mouth when she yawned again. "Sorry."

"Perhaps you should--"

"If the rest of that sentence is sending me home, you can stop there. I'm in this all the way, Claire. I just need more coffee."

"We can make some at my house."

"Best invitation I've had in a long time. And don't question that, either of you."

Daniel snorted, and Claire bit back a smile. "I wouldn't think of it."

Annie raised an eyebrow when she looked at Daniel, and he raised both hands.

"I am a gentleman first, Annie Sullivan."

"Right. Lead the way, Claire."

She led them through the shop and into the back room, not missing the huge yawn Annie tried to hide. Once they reached her house, she would switch the coffee for decaf, or tea, then find a way to get Annie to sleep for a bit. Claire didn't need much sleep, and she was determined to find the spell she was certain lay inside the grimoire.

Her mentor, Meredith, had been a bit of a fanatic about the spirit world, and everything that interested her was recorded in this grimoire. Daniel could shorten the search by discounting what he knew didn't work.

It was a short walk down the back alley to her small house. Annie nearly bumped into her when she halted at the bottom of the back porch.

"Oops. Sorry." Annie gave her a tired grin. "Not paying attention."

"Why don't you rest for a bit, while Daniel and I attempt to read more of Meredith's indecipherable handwriting."

"Meredith. Sounds so--ordinary."

"She was a housewife, and a kitchen witch, and had a deep belief in the power that only women carry. I learned so much from her." Claire swallowed, climbing the two steps to her back door. The grief of Meredith's death still tugged at her, even after all this time.

"When did she die?"

"Before I moved here." It was mostly true. She led Annie into the house, and down the hall that led to the bedrooms. "I have a spare room, and the bed is already made up. I'll wake you if I find anything."

"I wanted to--ˮ Another yawn interrupted her. "I guess I'll be useless if I can't even keep my eyes open."

"Yes, you will."

Annie let out a tired laugh, then shocked Claire by wrapping one arm around her shoulders and hugging her. "Point me to that bed, so I can fall face first. Keep him out here."

Daniel leaned against the wall at the end of the corridor, both eyebrows raised. "Your privacy is assured, Annie Sullivan."

Once Annie was undressed enough to be comfortable, falling asleep before Claire finished closing the door, Claire grabbed the grimoire off the small table by the back door and headed for the living room. She checked all the blinds, pulled the curtains across for good measure. She did not want to explain any strange light to a night owl who happened to pass by.

"Stay out of the way, Daniel." She opened the book and set it on the coffee table. "All right, Meredith. Show me those spirit spells you were always so fond of writing."

She raised both hands, and let familiar power flow through her. White-gold light spread between her hands, over the grimoire, and she focused, forming a silent request before she sent her power into the ragged pages.

The light pulsed, but the pages lay still, unmoving. Claire was about to retreat and try a different method when the first page flipped over. A moment later they started turning, back and forth, so fast the air around her churned, lifting her hair off her shoulders. She was half afraid the grimoire would tear itself apart before finding what she sought.

It flew straight up, spinning around as the pages flipped, furiously now. Claire stood, ready to withdraw the spell, when the grimoire slapped the coffee table, the pages finally settling. She lowered herself to the floor and bent over the page.

"To Break the Loop of a Suffering Spirit, in the Case of Murder or Mysterious Death. Oh, Meredith," she whispered. "I knew you would come through for me."

"May I approach now?"

She looked up, smiling at Daniel's frustrated voice. "Please. I think I won the jackpot."

"You have impressive skills, witch, for one so young."

"I'm a fast learner." She slid the book across the coffee table, needing to distract him from his current train of thought. "Come and tell me what you think of this."

They read the information, which covered at least thirty pages. Daniel stopped at several places and pointed out small inconsistencies, spells Meredith claimed would work that were no longer effective. By the time they finished, Claire sat back, her hands shaking when she understood what she would need to do. What she couldn't possibly do.

"Claire?" Annie's scratchy voice had her standing.

"You should be asleep."

"I'm good. Are you okay?" She moved forward, took Claire's hand. "You look like you just got a death sentence. What--is it the spell?"

"Not the spell." Claire cleared her throat, forced herself to meet Annie's eyes. "What the caster needs to do. I can't," she whispered. "I can't do what is asked in the spell."

"You're not the only one here."

"No." She pulled free of Annie's grip and backed away. "You will not--I can't ask you to be part of this, now that I know what is demanded."

"Tell me, Claire, before you dismiss me and whatever raw talent I have."

There was more than even Annie suspected. Claire swallowed, staring at the open pages. "The caster must bare their soul to Heaven, to prove they are worthy to speak for the tortured ghost. I can't do this."

"Then I'll do it. Don't let no be the next word out of your mouth." She looked over at Daniel, still kneeling next to the coffee table. "I have to help him, Claire. I have to. He carries the same grief, and I've only dealt with it for three months. He's carried his for almost two centuries. I can't even imagine how that feels, and I can't walk away without at least trying to help." Tears edged her voice by the time she finished.

Claire took her hands. "What you want to do is admirable, and I understand your reason. I want you to read the information first, before you make a decision. I will accept whatever you want to do--after you understand just what you are agreeing to do."

"Okay."

Claire led her to the coffee table, turned to the first page of the passage, and moved away while Annie bent her head and read the mixture of Meredith's neatest writing, and Claire's quickly scribbled notes. Daniel stepped away, giving her room.

She headed for the kitchen, and filled the electric kettle, plugging it in. A quick rummage through her refrigerator told her she needed to do some serious grocery shopping soon, but she scrounged enough cheese and fruit for a snack. After adding some crackers, she set everything on a tray and carried it to the living room. Annie was still absorbed in the grimoire, a frown creasing her forehead. Claire left the tray on the end of the coffee table and went back for the hot water and tea bags.

By the time she returned to the living room, Annie was waiting, her face pale. "I don't know if I can do this--God, Claire, what kind of masochist wrote this spell?"

"There is a reason Meredith buried the spell. She knew it would take desperation, or a deep need to help, for a witch to even attempt it."

Daniel moved away from the wall near the door, his voice quiet. "Annie Sullivan, I will understand if you cannot--ˮ

"Part of me wants to run away and pretend I never met you, Daniel Sutherland. The other part knows I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did. I don't know if I'm strong enough--ˮ

"You are." Claire held out her hand, and pulled Annie to the sofa. "You are untrained, but your power lights you up, Annie. With some training, you will be a force that would make most of the witches I know think twice before crossing you."

"Whoa. I never--I mean, I knew I was different, and I researched the weird things I could do, even as a little girl. But I didn't think I'd ever be more than average."

"Trust me, even untrained, your power is not average."

"So, I can help them? Free Juliet?"

Claire sighed, and scrubbed at her face, exhaustion pressing down on her. "We can try." She glanced over at Daniel. "It won't be easy, and I fear that we may do more than free Juliet, if we aren't prepared."

Annie frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The spell releases all from their bonds. Including her murderer."

"Damn. Is there a spell in there to send his ass to Hell?"

Laughter burst out of Claire. She shook her head and squeezed Annie's hand. "There probably is, and we will have to be ready for the backlash of a vengeful spirit. Whoever murdered Juliet will not be happy to lose their hold on her."

"So we make sure he or she are on their way downstairs before they can do the whole vengeful thing."

"Exactly. But before we set out to vanquish evil spirits, we are both going to get some sleep, and start fresh in the morning. Unless you have obligations."

"I'm on leave from my job at the yoga studio, so count me in." She stood and stretched, tall, vibrant, too young for the weight Claire saw on her heart. "See you in the morning."

She walked out of the living room, leaving Claire alone with Daniel.

"Daniel, I don't want you near the mansion until just before Juliet's murder. We need time to prepare--"

"The bruise I gave you is gone." She reached up to touch her cheek. "I remember you, Claire Wiche." His words stilled her. "Though you wore another face, and another name." He appeared in front of her, anger and fear in his dark blue eyes. "Who are you?"

"Someone who can help you find peace. That's all I can give you, Daniel. Please don't ask for any more, or this ends now."

After long, tense moments, he nodded. "I will leave you to your secrets, Claire. But if Juliet dies again, we will have words--and I will have your secrets."

He disappeared, and she could tell that he was gone this time, only the cold air that wrapped around her as proof that he had been here. She moved to the sofa and sat before her knees gave out.

For the first time in decades, she was going to touch the veil, on the one night when both the living and the dead could pass through it.

For the first time she would touch the edge of the power she had buried on a rainy night, at the edge of a river.

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# SEVEN

Annie found Claire up and dressed when she wandered out of the bedroom just before sunrise.

"Good morning." Claire pulled a pair of leather boots on over her jeans and stood. "I was just about to wake you. We need to head over to the Sutherland mansion as soon as I have packed up my supplies."

"What? Now?" Annie stared at her. "That place is haunted by more than Juliet. Not even the dumbest kids in the neighborhood go near it."

"Where did you think we were going to free Juliet?"

"Well--there, but not until tonight." She'd braced herself for that, but spending most of the day there? On Halloween? "What if her killer--ˮ

"Reaches out and touches us?" Claire did a bad job of hiding her smile. "According to Daniel, they will not be able to sense us until the exact moment of the murder. I have protection, and we will stay out of their range. I can't go into this blind, Annie. We are both risking too much."

"Okay, got it. You can stop hitting the obvious button." This time Claire's smile flashed across her face. Annie studied her, and noticed that the bruise on her face was gone. "What happened to the bruise Daniel gave you? It was a nasty one."

"I have always been a fast healer, and I have some ointments that help."

Annie let it go. For now. "What kind of protection?"

She almost missed the relief that flashed in Claire's eyes. "We'll go to my shop. It doesn't open until noon on Sunday, and my part time help runs the shop for me on the weekends. I have most of what we need there. If not, a quick trip to The Witch's Way may be in order."

Annie raised both eyebrows. "You shop at your competitor?"

"Madame Serena does have a larger shop, and favors cramming as much as possible into the space."

"Tell me about it."

"At any rate, we have been friendly since I opened, especially after she discovered there are customers enough for both of us. Did you want to go home first, take some time to clean up?"

"Yeah." She felt disheveled and dirty, after sleeping in her shirt, and she knew her hair looked like she'd played with electricity. "I'll meet you at The Wiche's Broom in an hour."

"Knock on the front door. I will watch for you."

She showed Annie out the back door, and Annie jogged down the alley, glad she didn't drive yesterday. The militant parking regulations would have had her car towed and in the public lot a minute after the stores on Forest closed for the night.

Still at a jog, she turned into the narrow street running along the side of Claire's store--and skidded to a halt when a figure stepped out of the wall.

"God--Daniel?" He glided closer, still close to transparent. Annie could see through him to the street. "What are you doing here?"

"Your power is like a light in this dark place, Annie Sullivan. I needed--ˮ He lowered his head, and his grief reached out to her like a physical thing.

"We're going to help you, Daniel. You were there half the night, you know Claire has a plan--"

"Do you trust her?" He studied her, impressive even as a barely-there spirit. In life, he must have been at least six foot three. Annie had to look up to meet his eyes. She had been so overwhelmed at the cemetery, she didn't notice his height--or anything beyond the fact that he actually existed.

"With my life." Something about Claire had Annie trusting her from the beginning. "She won't walk away, Daniel. Neither of us will."

He bowed to her. "You have my deepest gratitude, Annie Sullivan."

"Annie will do. Now, if what I read last night is correct, you're expending energy. So get out of here, and save it for tonight. You'll need it."

His eyes narrowed. "You are going to my home now. I would accompany you."

She sighed, rubbing at her forehead. Three hours of sleep did not give her brain enough downtime to keep up in an argument with a stubborn ghost. "It's not like I can stop you, but if we need you on tonight, and you can't bring it to the table, none of us may see November 1st."

"I will, as you say, bring it to the table. For my Juliet, I will sacrifice all that I am."

He said it with such depth, his feelings for her raw on his face, that Annie couldn't say no to him. "Just be ready for a lecture if you do show."

"A lecture from Claire Wiche, I am presuming."

"You are presuming correctly."

A smile tugged at his mouth. "I find myself enjoying this banter with you, Annie. For too long I have wandered, invisible to those around me, and heard nothing but inane conversations on those cell phones you seem so bound to."

"You're not wrong," she muttered, though she'd been turning her phone off lately, to keep from seeing all the well-meaning texts. "I have to go, since I'm meeting Claire soon. If you want to be part of this, don't show yourself until we're at your mansion."

"Very well. Until then, Annie Sullivan."

Before she could say anything he disappeared, leaving a cold spot where he had been. Odd--he had felt cold when he was solid, but the air around him had been the normal October chill, unlike every ghost encounter she'd ever read.

"You're a mystery, Daniel Sutherland."

She would help him past his grief, if she could. No one deserved what he had suffered for two centuries.

With only half an hour before she had to be back here, Annie sprinted to her apartment, using the time to decide whether or not she should tell Claire about her encounter with Daniel. She had a feeling Claire would try to stop him somehow, while Annie thought his insight might be what put them one step ahead in the game.

"Deal with it if he shows, Annie."

Good advice--he may not even appear. If he did--she'd worry about Claire's reaction if and when.

*

Even rushing, Annie was still late, and sheepishly tapped on the glass door of The Wiche's Broom.

"I was starting to worry," Claire said as she let Annie in. "I know you got too little sleep."

"Enough. Sorry, I was delayed on my way home. What can I do?" She steered the conversation away from her delay as fast as possible. Damn--she didn't even mean to mention it. Brain fry never allowed for good decisions. "Did you have everything we need for the--what do we call it? Not an exorcism."

"Break the loop, pull her out of the moment of her murder. What happens after that, we won't know until it happens. Which means we have to be prepared for several possible scenarios."

"Let me guess--you have a list."

Claire flashed her a smile, color creeping into her cheeks. "I do. Lists help keep me organized."

"Hey, no need to justify yourself to me. I think lists are great--they just make me feel guilty for all the stuff I haven't done yet."

Claire took her arm and headed to the back of the store. "You have been using lists all wrong if that is the result. We can work on it." She stopped at the round table, which was covered with piles, each one neatly labeled. "This what I've gathered so far. We are missing a few components, which will mean a stop at The Witch's Way."

"Can I take some aspirin now? Her patchouli addiction gives me a headache every time I go in there."

Claire's laughter made her smile. "It is a bit much, I agree. Her over scented shop is one of the reasons I chose simple lavender for mine."

"Good choice. I felt calm the second I walked in. Can we go now and get it over with? I know she opens early on Sundays, probably because you don't."

"After two years of sitting alone in the shop on Sunday mornings, I found that opening early did not suit my business plan."

"Don't ever repeat that in front of Madame Serena."

Claire winked at her. "Never. I enjoy my good hearing."

It was Annie's turn to laugh. Madame Serena had a loud voice, and a temper that could send even Mildred scurrying for the door.

"If you have your list ready, let's get this over with, so I have time to recover before we head to the Sutherland mansion."

"Is there something I'm missing here, Annie?"

"Not really. I just--well," Annie picked at the edge of the tablecloth. "Last time I was there I criticized one of her displays, not aware that she stood right behind me."

"Ouch. You can wait outside, if you like."

"No--I'll go in, face the dragon."

"I admire that. You are braver than I would be in the same circumstance."

Annie looked up, meeting Claire's eyes. "I've never met anyone who keeps so calm in the middle of a crisis. When Daniel showed up like that--if I'd been alone, I would have run screaming like a little girl."

"Thank you." She stood, looking flustered. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah." Annie followed her to the front of the store, and touched her shoulder when they reached the counter. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"I'm afraid I don't have much--experience with compliments. I have lived a solitary life, and--I am not trying to make excuses, simply explain why I may be uncomfortable if you do offer me such a thing."

"That thing was the truth, Claire. Get used to it, because I have a lousy poker face, and I'm a worse liar."

Claire looked up at her, amusement in those unique, silver blue eyes. "I will remember that." She picked up the black bag and swung the strap over her shoulder. "Thank you, for your honest speaking. I find it refreshing, especially after days of dealing with customers like Mildred."

Annie rolled her eyes and followed Claire out of the store. "That woman is going to set herself on fire someday, then come in and blame you for selling her the candle she used for the spell."

"I would worry, if she had enough power to set herself on fire. I am afraid the only way she would manage that would be to fall on the candle."

"Oh, God--don't tell me she has any power."

"A touch, most likely passed down to her from her Irish ancestors. Not enough for her to do anything, thank the heavens."

Annie pressed one hand to her chest. "You nearly gave me heart failure. That woman, with power--I'd be leaving the state."

Claire's laughter was like a gift, especially now that Annie knew she didn't do it that often. That was going to change, because as far as Annie was concerned, Claire just found her first friend in Santa Luna.

They reached The Witch's Way, and Annie took a deep breath of fresh air before following Claire inside. Patchouli assaulted her, worse than she remembered. Hopefully, what they needed was near the front of the store, and easy to find.

All hope fizzled when Madame Serena came stalking around the corner.

"Claire Wiche, what are you doing here? Oh, that's right, you open later on Sunday."

Before Madame Serena could throw insults, Claire smiled at her. "I am in need of a few items. Things I don't normally carry, and I am hoping you have them in stock."

"What?" Madame Serena looked suspicious, arms crossed over her impressive cleavage.

"Here you are." Claire handed her a list, and waited politely while she studied it, her face scrunched up. "Anything you might have will be greatly appreciated."

"What--so you can hike the price and sell them in your precious little shop? I don't think so." She balled up the list and threw it at Claire--who caught it mid-air, without even looking at it. Madame Serena stepped back, her eyes wide. "Get out, Wiche, before I call the police and have you hauled out."

"I would ask one question before I go. What have I done to deserve your animosity?"

Madame Serena crowded her against the wall, her bulk practically smothering Claire's slender frame. "You came out of nowhere, and opened that--place, and you think I wouldn't be bitter? You stole my customers!"

Those customers had started gathering, drawn by her screeching. Annie moved to Madame Serena, using her superior height to her advantage. "Step back, or you'll be the one hauled in for assault. I have my high school sweetheart, and now police lieutenant, on speed dial." She waved her phone. "Give me a reason, Agatha."

Madame Serena's face reddened when Annie used her real name, a little tidbit she learned from her former sweetheart after Madame Serena, AKA Agatha Mosheim, lodged an overblown complaint with the police. One that put her on their problem citizen list.

"Get out of my store. And don't you dare come back. Get out!"

Annie grabbed Claire's arm and pulled her to the door. She recognized the look on Claire's face--a quiet fury that would probably explode with only a little more finger poking. It was better to drag her out before that explosion happened.

Once they were outside, she let go and backed away, not sure how Claire would react. After a few deep breaths, Claire pushed hair off her still flushed face and met Annie's eyes.

"Thank you. I was about to lose control in there."

"Got that. Why the hell did she snap like that?"

"I'm afraid the street fair this past August may have tipped her." Claire pinched the bridge of her nose. "I was very selective with the items I sold at my booth, and they turned out to be quite popular."

"Wait--you had those crystal pendants that everyone was raving about, didn't you? I didn't go." She was too busy sleeping through the days, after burying her parents. "But several of the instructors at the yoga studio did, and all they could talk about was the cute booth with the amazing pendants and charms. That was you."

"Madame Serena crammed every surface of her booth, and I watched many of her potential customers walk away, frustrated because they couldn't find anything. Unfortunately, we were right across from each other, so she witnessed my successful sales firsthand."

"She's been the reigning queen of the supernatural for so long, having you quietly show up and outshine her would sting."

"It was never meant that way."

"Hey, I know that." She slung her arm over Claire's hunched shoulders. "You're a class act, Claire Wiche. Any idiot can see that."

"Thank you, I think." She took another deep breath, and stepped back. "Let's head over to the mansion."

"We're in this together, Claire. Got that?"

"I believe it's sinking in." She flashed a smile and headed for the coast road. "I think it's better if we walk over."

"And leave no suspicious car out front."

"Nice to know we're on the same page."

They talked about everything from favorite foods to horror stories of past apartments, and sooner than Annie expected, they stood in front of the Sutherland mansion.

No one had lived here since the last Sutherland died, more than thirty years ago. Whoever inherited the mansion had left it to sit, probably with the least amount of maintenance they could get away with and not be fined. So it was standing, and the landscaping looked surprisingly well tended, but it had to have decades of dust everywhere. And decades of bugs.

"Ready?" Claire looked over at her.

Annie seemed to be answering that question a lot lately. Maybe it was time to be ready, to start living her life again. Mom and Dad would blister her ears if they knew she'd been hiding away from the world because of them.

She took a deep breath. "Ready."

They walked up the long, wide sidewalk, and Annie stared down at the beautiful, huge stone pavers. They were chipped in places, but otherwise, they looked like they had been as well maintained as the landscape. She looked up, discovering she had fallen behind, and rushed to join Claire at the bottom of the porch.

Cold air slapped her, and she understood why Claire had stopped.

"Daniel." Claire did not sound happy. She climbed the steps to the porch. "I told you to stay away until tonight."

He glided out of the shadows, the black double doors visible through him. "I had to see her. It has been so many years, too many to count, since I have seen her before she was murdered."

"Why haven't you come before now?"

"The way was closed to me. But you, Claire, you have opened it, by acknowledging me, by stepping across the line drawn by her suffering."

"You can't be here, not until the time of her murder--"

"I have watched her die, over and over, every year since her murder, and I cannot bear to watch her suffer again. Will you help me?"

"How is it that you have never seen her killer's face?"

"The coward wears a cloak, and a deep hood conceals their face."

"Claire." Annie joined her on the porch. "If Daniel's seen the murder every year since she was killed--"

"The murderer died before the next Halloween. We can look that up, narrow the possible list of suspects we may face. But first," she turned back to Daniel. "I want to see the crime scene."

"This way."

He turned, and raised his hand. Annie jumped when the double doors swung open, her heart still pounding as she followed Claire inside.

The mansion was more beautiful than she expected, the furniture and floors dust free.

"How--"

"I suspect the last cleaning was recent," Claire whispered. She kept her gaze on Daniel. "It's the two hundred year anniversary of the murder."

"God--I hope that doesn't give our killer ghost some kind of power boost."

"Annie." Claire stopped, her face so serious that Annie knew it was bad news. "Every time this murder played out, it has made the ghost stronger."

"Shit." She ran one hand through her hair. "Holy shit."

"Exactly."

They started walking through the spacious foyer, until Daniel froze in front of the portrait that hung above a narrow, obviously expensive table. The woman looked like she was in her early thirties, with a heart-shaped face, and a tumble of dark brown curls that fell to her narrow waist. She wore a simple gown, and was breathtaking.

"Is this Juliet?" Annie's whisper echoed around them.

Daniel closed his eyes, briefly, pain radiating off him. "Yes. It was painted just after we were engaged."

He swept past them and stalked deeper into the mansion.

Claire followed after him, and Annie ran to catch up. No way would she be alone in this place, not with a murdering ghost who could do only God knew what at this point. Hopefully, he or she only showed right before the murder.

They reached the doorway to a huge room, and Daniel halted. "It was here," he whispered, anguish edging his voice. "I can go no farther. Not until right before she--"

He turned away and disappeared, blasting them with cold air.

"Annie." Claire held out her hand, and Annie took it, glad for the human contact. "If something happens, I want you to get out. Don't wait for me, just run."

"Okay." She wasn't going to argue.

They moved into what was obviously the library, with shelves lining every wall. A second story balcony ran the perimeter of the room, with more shelves. Thousands of books filled those shelves, more than Annie had ever seen in a private collection.

The room was dusty, like whoever cleaned the rest of the mansion avoided it as much as possible. Dusty, Annie noticed, except for a spot in the middle of the floor, where the rug had been taken up. A dark stain marked the hardwood floor.

Claire let go of her hand. "Stay here." She moved to the stain and crouched, her hand hovering over it.

Annie watched her, startled to see a white-gold glow around her hand, and her eyes widened when she realized it was Claire's power. Heart pounding, she stared as it surrounded the dark stain. Claire let out a harsh gasp when the glow recoiled--and she flew across the room, colliding with a wing chair.

"Claire--"

"Get out of here, Annie!" She pushed to her feet and raised her hand. More white-gold light shot out of her palm. "Now!"

Annie sprinted toward the door, and stumbled to a halt when she glanced over her shoulder. Claire's power slammed up against a barrier. An invisible, human shaped barrier.

"Oh, God."

"Annie--" Claire sounded more desperate, her voice strained. "Go--"

"I'm not leaving--"

"Daniel--"

Icy, invisible fingers closed around Annie's wrist and jerked her out of the room. The door slammed before she could break free.

"Let go of me--" She nearly fell when he did, and caught herself against the door. "Claire!" The knob refused to turn. "Claire--can you hear me?" She spun, searching for Daniel. He appeared next to her, the biting cold warning her a second before he materialized. "Get this door open. I can't leave her in there--"

"I cannot. I am sorry. Until tonight, I am powerless beyond this point."

"Damn it. Claire!"

"I'm all right, Annie." Claire's voice came through the door, faint and muffled. "I need you to check the front doors for me."

"What the--ˮ

"Just do it, Annie."

She sprinted through the mansion, making a couple wrong turns before she found the wide foyer. The ornate knobs wouldn't budge. Annie checked the deadbolt, then tried again. Nothing. Cursing the entire way, she ran back to the library.

"Claire! The doors won't open."

"Try the library door. You should be able to enter now."

The knob turned, and Annie flung the door open. Her heart nearly jumped into her throat when she saw the cloaked figure in front of Claire.

"What the hell--ˮ

"We are guests of our mystery host, and won't try to leave again." After a short nod, the figure faded, leaving the room ice cold. Claire held up her hand, waited a few seconds, then strode over to Annie, grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the library. "Not a word," she muttered, "until I tell you it's safe."

They moved deeper into the mansion, Daniel gliding after them. Claire finally stopped in an outrageously masculine room, the scent of cigars still lingering. She freed Annie and sank to the closest leather chair, her face shock pale.

"Claire--ˮ

"I'm all right. I just need to catch my breath." Her hands shook against the arms of the chair, and Annie saw sweat slip down her face. She was definitely not all right.

"What happened in there?"

Claire took a few more deep breaths, then glanced over Annie's shoulder before she answered. "I just met Juliet's killer. And I have good reason to believe it is a woman."

'Who?" Daniel lunged forward, moving through Annie. She gasped and jerked sideways. It felt like ice water had been injected into her. "Tell me who--ˮ

"Daniel." Claire held up her hand, and he halted, crouching in front of her.

"You fear this woman."

"Yes," she whispered. They looked at each other for a long time, until Daniel finally nodded. "I don't know who she is, yet. But we will have to find out, and quickly."

Claire finally met Annie's eyes, and Annie saw the fear Daniel mentioned, her heart pounding. If the ghost scared someone like Claire--God, they were in trouble.

"What happened in there?"

Claire took a deep, not so steady breath. "We just became unwelcome guests, and our host destroyed all the supplies I brought with us."

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# EIGHT

Claire wanted to do nothing more than stretch out on the floor and sleep. Touching the barrier over her buried power took more strength than she expected--and protecting herself from the angry power radiating off the spirit cost more than it should have.

But because she had underestimated their opponent, they were trapped, with no supplies, no way to help Juliet. Worse, the closer they got to the time of the murder, the stronger the spirit would become.

She pushed to her feet, taking a moment to steady herself. Annie caught her arm, concern in the warm brown eyes. Thank God for her; Claire could not have done this alone.

"Daniel." She eased out of Annie's grip and turned to him. He held out his hands, concern for her in his dark blue eyes. He was becoming substantial again, most likely able to draw on the power that pulsed through the mansion. "Did Juliet have any journals, or diaries? Even letters might help."

Annie moved to her side. "Why do you think it's a woman?"

"Small clues, and the sense of rage coming from the spirit felt--feminine."

"You mean spiteful and bitchy."

Claire smiled. "Something like that, yes. I also got the sense that they knew each other, well enough for Juliet to allow her close enough. She was stabbed from behind, wasn't she?"

Daniel closed his eyes, and Claire took his now solid hand, his fingers cool against her too hot skin. "Yes," he whispered. "She turned her back, and the murdering coward trapped her, stabbing her through the heart."

He freed his hand and strode out of the lounge, one Claire had chosen because she had a distinct feeling that it was a no women allowed sanctuary. She caught Annie's hand and followed, running to keep up with his long stride.

Whoever held them would have control over areas they had been in, but their power didn't stretch to what they did not know. Meredith had been quite clear about that in the grimoire, and Daniel had agreed, offering personal experience. Claire touched the grimoire, tucked in her jacket pocket; thankfully, she had kept it separate from the now destroyed black bag.

Daniel waited for them at the top of the main staircase, impatiently tapping the curved balustrade. "Juliet's room is this way," he said when they joined him, heading to the left. "Once we were engaged, she moved in, with her Aunt Beatrice as chaperone. I refused to allow her to stay one moment longer with her overbearing jackass of a father."

Claire looked over at Annie. "Tell us more about him."

"He considered them chess pieces, pawns to be sacrificed to his business. Before Juliet had even reached sixteen, she was aimed at some ancient banker, a man who had already buried two wives, and known for his perversions. All Juliet's father cared was that marrying Juliet to him would mean more money in his bank account."

"Disgusting," Annie said. She moved to Daniel's side, her long legs making it easy for her to keep up with him. "You said them. Did Juliet have sisters?"

"One. A younger sister. She had already been dead for years when I met Juliet. Emily died in childbirth." He halted in front of the door at the end of the long corridor, and a smile tugged at him mouth. "Juliet swore she could feel Emily with her, watching over her."

"Have you ever seen her?"

Daniel looked over at Claire, surprise on his face. "I have not--when I realized I could not reach Juliet, I did not spend much time here, except on the night of her murder. Every year, I try to stop it. Every year, I fail her."

"If Emily is still here, we might have another ally."

He shook his head. "Juliet told me that Emily was a frail, timid thing."

"Love can be stronger than hate, Daniel. Especially the love of a sister. Were they close?"

"Yes." For the first time, Claire saw hope ease some of the despair that was a constant in his eyes. "You believe she may still be here?"

"We can find out. Open the door, and we'll start here."

He led them inside.

The bedroom would have easily fit Claire's living room and kitchen. It was enormous, but felt cozy, with overstuffed furniture that had been taken care of, like most of the furnishings she had seen in the mansion.

"Whoever looks after this place obviously cares about it."

Daniel looked up from the worn armchair in front of the beautiful, carved marble fireplace. "He is the descendent of my butler. They have passed down the duty, from one generation to the next. I have always been humbled by the regard they still hold for me, despite the mark on my reputation." He shook his head and moved to a small but exquisite secretary. "Juliet kept any important papers in here."

"May I?" He nodded to Claire and moved away, touching pieces of Juliet's life, his grief palpable.

Annie joined her, rubbing her arms. "It's cold in here, and I don't think it's coming from Daniel. Not now that he's solid."

"You noticed that as well." Annie continued to impress her. For someone so young, she had a maturity that gave her a strong sense of self. It would serve her well, if she decided to pursue her power. "If Emily is here, she'll know we are on Juliet's side and hopefully show herself."

Claire sat in front of the secretary and started searching. The faint scent of lavender floated up from the lined drawers. She picked up a piece of flowery stationery and sniffed. Yes, it was coming from there, as well as from the delicately flowered lining. Claire recognized the pattern--a new one, which meant someone had replaced old lining, or added this to brighten, and protect the wood.

A cold chill struck her a moment before the voice.

"She would not approve you rummaging through her private papers."

Annie's gasp told Claire before she looked up just what she would see. Or rather, who she would see.

A small, delicately beautiful woman stood at the end of the bed, her arms crossed. Whatever age she may have carried in life had been erased in death, and she looked like a younger version of Juliet, with the same heart-shaped face and tumble of dark brown curls.

"Hello, Emily." The ghost started, her mouth dropping open. "Daniel told us about you, and that Juliet believed you had been watching over her."

"I was," Emily whispered. She looked past them, and Claire followed her gaze to Daniel, who stared at Emily, his body stiff. "But I could do nothing to save her that night. I am so sorry, Daniel. I was trapped in this room by some kind of barrier, and I heard her scream, unable to do anything..."

She covered her face with both hands, quiet sobs shaking her. Daniel strode across the room and gathered her into his arms. Even solid, he didn't slip through her like a living person would have. Emily buried her face against his shoulder and cried.

Annie watched them, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pain stark in her tear-bright eyes.

Claire touched Annie's hand as she stood, and moved to the adjoining room, a small sitting room, with another carved fireplace, and a faded floral settee.

"Sit, Annie." She took Annie's hands, not surprised that she was so affected by Emily's grief. "Don't be embarrassed. Your own grief is still new, and crying can often be the only way to help ease the weight of it."

"I--miss them so much."

Claire pulled her in, rubbed her back as she shook. Her choked sobs finally broke free, and she held on to Claire. When the tears eased, she lifted her head--and choked again, in laughter this time. Claire turned around to find Daniel and Emily in the doorway.

Annie caught her breath, wiping her eyes. "Come in. I'm already far past embarrassment at this point."

Emily glided to her, one hand hovering near her cheek. "Your loss is new. There is no reason to feel ashamed of your grief."

"Thanks."

"You are here for Juliet."

"Yeah, but we're trapped here by whoever killed her, without anything we need to help stop the murder."

Emily stood, her hands clasped at her waist. "Daniel told me why you are here, and I believe I can assist. Everything that was in the mansion when Juliet and Daniel died remains, including a rather extensive collection of oddities that belonged to our aunt. She was a great believer in the spiritual."

Claire stood, hope pushing up through the helpless anger. "By any chance, did she collect crystals?"

Emily smiled. "We could have opened a business with the number of crystals she hoarded. Come, I will show you."

She glided out of the sitting room, and Claire reached for Annie's hand.

"That's good news, isn't it?"

Claire nodded, following after the ghosts. "If she has the kind of collection I hope she has, we may have a chance, Annie."

*

Annie felt tired after her outburst, but clearheaded, and ready to help. Emily led them through the huge mansion, to a narrow staircase leading up.

"The attic," Emily said. "When Juliet inherited Aunt Lara's collection, she kept it up here, rather than risk ridicule from her friends. Aunt Lara was a bit eccentric. I have never been there, so I cannot follow you, but Daniel knows where it is kept."

He kissed Emily's cheek, then led the way up the stairs. "I always thought of her collection as a box of useless rocks, but now," he opened the door and waved at a kerosene lamp. A flame lit the wick, and the lamp floated over to his hand. "Now, I believe Juliet's aunt may very well be our salvation."

Flickering light danced off piles of old furniture, a dress dummy wearing the ugliest gown Annie had ever laid eyes on, and boxes. Hundreds of boxes.

"I hope you know where this box of rocks is, or we could be here for the next century."

He smiled at Annie. "Most of my things were packed up after my death, and nothing has been touched since that time. Juliet had her own space up here, and she would have stored Lara's collection with the rest of her belongings." He moved around a shredded sofa, smiling down at it. "My dog, Cooper, managed to sneak into the house. He thoroughly enjoyed the front room sofa before he was discovered. I never heard the end of it." His smile faded. "Juliet's things are just back here, on the shelf."

Annie let Claire go first, since she would know what she was looking for. When she joined them, Claire already had a deep wooden box open, and was sorting through what looked like hundreds of crystals.

"I only need one type," Claire muttered. "I think I can break the cycle with it, and plenty of luck...ah." She held up a huge hunk of shiny black rock, along with other, smaller rocks. "Daniel, do you know if Lara left any jewelry to Juliet?"

"It would be here as well. Lara had what Juliet called garish taste. Here." He pulled a second box off the shelf and opened it. "If you are looking for a piece of jewelry with that stone, I know Lara had a ring. She wore it every time we met. I expected her to be buried with it, but she bequeathed it to Juliet. It should be in here."

He pulled out a silver ring, with an oval of the same stone, surrounded by smaller black stones.

"Thank you." Claire took it, slipping it on her right index finger. "This will work, as will all of these."

"That's all you need?" Annie frowned at the small pile of rocks. "Those look like something their gardener dug out of the flower beds."

"This is black obsidian, Annie. More than I had in my shop. If we only find this one stone, it will be enough." She looked up at Daniel. "I do need salt if you have it. As much salt as you can find." Daniel nodded, set the kerosene lamp on the shelf, and headed for the door. "Daniel--don't touch it. Just let us know where it is."

He raised one eyebrow, but nodded before he disappeared. Literally.

Annie shook her head. "Salt, and black rocks. You had piles of supplies in that bag."

"I know." Claire leaned against the shelf and looked at Annie. "I wanted to cover every contingency. I will bring the box with us, but Lara knew her way around crystals. This ring was worn as a protective shield." She touched the oval, so long it covered the joint of her finger. "I have a feeling Aunt Lara wasn't as crazy as she seemed."

Annie's eyes widened as the answer struck her. "You think she saw ghosts."

"A fact she would have kept to herself." Claire closed the box in her hands and pushed off the shelf. "Let's get downstairs. We need to create a control zone before sunset. I'm just hoping we have that long."

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# NINE

Claire led the way down the stairs, her fingers brushing the obsidian oval of the ring she wore. She felt safer, knowing it was there. The other pieces in her jacket pocket added to that feeling, and hopefully, would help pull Juliet out of her nightmare. She had to consult Meredith's grimoire.

Annie's voice brought her back to the present. "Any idea when we'll be able to work in the library?"

"Daniel told me it gets the afternoon sun, which should protect us, but it doesn't give us much time. As soon as it starts getting dark, we'll lose any advantage."

"This murdering asshat won't show up again while we're there?"

Claire raised one eyebrow, fighting a smile. "The asshat is hopefully still recovering from our last encounter. She draws strength from darkness. It is when she killed, and I'm guessing when she died."

"How do you know so much about this?"

Claire held up the grimoire. "Daniel and I did some light reading while you were asleep last night. Meredith was a little obsessed about ghosts, and I found an incredible amount of information, far more than what you read. Daniel was able to help narrow down what was accurate, and what was hearsay."

"I hope he's right about this, because we're betting our lives on it."

"I trusted Meredith with everything." Almost everything. There were secrets Claire could never give away, no matter how much she trusted someone. "And we need to trust Daniel now. He has much at stake, so I can't see him leading us in the wrong direction."

The first thing Claire did when they reached the ground floor was check all the doors. Still locked--a fact that left her more than a bit unsettled. That meant the spirit's power over objects, like the door locks, held even when she was not present.

They found the kitchen, after several wrong turns. The floor plan of the mansion wasn't conducive to easy navigation. Claire would have to become more familiar with it before tonight.

They separated, and started searching the huge kitchen for salt.

"Yes!" Annie appeared in the doorway of the butler's pantry, holding a ten pound bag of salt. "The cupboard door was wide open, with this inside. I'm guessing that's courtesy of Daniel."

"Good. Now we need to find other containers, make it portable."

Claire opened drawers, and pulled out a supply of storage bags. She set them on the table and they started transferring the salt into bags.

After a long silence, Annie spoke. "Do you think--" She glanced up at Claire, then down at the table, but not quickly enough for Claire to miss the fear in her eyes. "Can we actually defeat this asshat?"

"I believe so."

"But we're still locked in--"

"Annie." She reached across the scarred kitchen table and took Annie's hand. "I didn't want to say anything--"

"Thanks for thinking of me, but I'd really rather know the hard truth up front. You don't need to protect me, Claire."

"I know, but this time, I want you to stand behind me. We are dealing with a spirit who has been growing stronger for two hundred years. I seriously underestimated her already, and I will not do so again." She let go of Annie's hand and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry I put you in this position."

"Well, I'm not. My life needed shaking up, and this sure did that. Now--I'm going to finish making salt bombs, and then we're going to get ready to kick some ghost ass. You with me?"

Claire couldn't help herself; she burst out laughing.

"Yes, Annie. I'm with you."

*

The short amount of time Claire allowed for them to prepare flew by, too fast for Annie. She was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that they'd be fighting a ghost. One that was able to keep them locked up tight in a mansion, and not even be here.

Claire had her lay a line of salt across every doorway and on every windowsill in the library, and the rooms surrounding it, in case the ghost managed to escape the library. Annie also put down a thick line in strategic spots along the corridors. They'd have to open a way for Daniel and Emily, if Claire even wanted them here when the murder happened. Two more emotional ghosts might be too many to handle.

She sat on the convenient chair next to the end of the corridor, her knees threatening to give out as the enormity of what they were about to do crashed in on her.

"Oh, God," she whispered.

"Annie." Daniel's deep voice filtered down the corridor. He stood on the opposite side of the line of salt, and even from halfway down the corridor, she could feel his barely suppressed anger. "Is this to prevent me from reaching Juliet?"

"No." She didn't think so. "It's for the asshat we're going to have to face tonight."

"Ass what?" He raised his eyebrows, clearly amused.

"I'm sure you've heard the expression before. Haven't you been hanging around for the last two hundred years?"

"In the wrong places, apparently. May I please--"

"No." Claire's voice made Annie jump. "I can't have you here, Daniel."

Fury poured off him. "You liar--" He moved forward, and slammed into an invisible barrier, hissing in pain. "You promised I would be able to save her--"

"I told you I would try to break her free of her murderer. I never promised that you would be part of it."

"Claire." Shock at the flat, uncaring tone in her voice had Annie staring at her. Why was she lying? "What--"

"Come into the library, Annie. That's more than enough salt to protect us for now."

Daniel cursed at them as they stepped inside, his shouts echoing through the mansion.

"What the hell?" Annie jerked away when Claire tried to touch her. "Why are you turning on him like that? I was there when you promised to help, and you told him that you needed his help to stop her murder."

"I did." Claire sounded exhausted now, and a closer look revealed fear in her silver blue eyes. "And I will allow him to join us, if he can explain this."

She held out a folded piece of heavy paper, scented with lavender. It must be one of Juliet's notes. There had been a pile in her desk, all of them now sitting on the library desk.

Annie took it, half afraid to read what was inside. She opened the note, and found only two sentences in neat, beautiful handwriting.

Oh, Emily, I wish you were here, as I have no one else to turn to. Daniel is so angry with me, since I told him we can never marry, and I am frightened that he may harm me.

"Damn. She called off the engagement?"

"Look at the date."

Annie missed it the first time through--it was printed up in the left corner, so small, but absolutely condemning.

October 30, 1815.

"Daniel told us he died that day--"

"There is no proof, Annie. He was found the day after Halloween, and there was no way to tell how long he had been dead. He could have killed Juliet in a rage, and died himself not long after."

"How's he supposed to prove himself to you? And besides, you told me you thought the killer was a woman."

"I could have been wrong, about all of this. Who has been with us all this time, Annie, since we have been locked inside the mansion?"

Annie lowered herself to one of the big wing chairs, not wanting to believe the evidence Claire was laying out.

"Daniel," she whispered. "But he seemed to heartbroken, and so desperate to get here, to free Juliet--"

"Heartbroken, or guilty? I don't know what to believe anymore." Claire sat on the footstool in front of the chair. "But there is one way to find out. The only problem is that it will take energy I need for tonight."

"And if Daniel is the killer, you won't really need it."

"A dilemma. If he's innocent, I may not have the strength to face the real killer. If he isn't, I won't need it, because we can trap him here before the murder. But I won't find the truth if I don't--"

"Expend it. Can I help?" Claire stared at her. "You said I had power. Can you use it for this--whatever it is that will clear Daniel or mark him as the killer?"

"Annie, I don't--damn it," she whispered, lowering her head. "Yes. Your help will make all the difference."

"Okay." She stood, and pressed her hands against her thighs to keep them from shaking. "Tell me what to do."

*

Annie took a deep breath, then stepped out of the library.

Daniel was pacing in front of the salt line. He spotted her, and his fury almost knocked her against the wall.

"Do not keep me from Juliet! I will not--"

"I'm coming to let you pass, but you have to promise not to hurt me, or Claire. She threatened to take you out if you so much as singe a hair on my head."

He calmed, the fury fading away as he nodded. "I agree. Now let me pass."

Annie moved forward, and used her foot to break the salt line. Daniel appeared next to her before she could blink.

"God--"

"I would know the reason for this betrayal."

"Follow me."

The last thing she wanted to do was turn her back on an angry ghost. An angry, solid ghost. But Claire had told her to act unconcerned, so she would act like her life depended on it.

Daniel followed her--so close his wool coat brushed her fingers. If he still breathed, Annie would have felt it on her neck. By the time they reached the doorway to the library she was shaking.

She stepped aside and let him enter first--then grabbed the bag of salt hidden behind a chair and spread it across the threshold.

Daniel whirled, his dark blue eyes narrowed. "What is this? A trap?"

"An interrogation." Claire stepped into sight, carrying one of the fireplace tools. "This poker is iron, and I assure you, I will use it if you provoke me. Sit, Daniel. It is time we talked."

The desk chair sat in the middle of the floor, next to the dark stain, and almost surrounded by a thick ring of salt. Claire had left enough room for him to step through.

"You threaten me, mean to trap me? What have I done to earn this mistrust?"

"That is what we're going to talk about. Now sit, or I will banish you from this mansion. For good."

He stared at her, his fists clenched, for endless seconds. Finally, he stepped inside the salt ring and sat in the chair. Claire pulled a salt shaker out of her pocket, twisted the cap off, and completed the circle. With her inside.

"Claire--"

"You will stay out of this, Annie."

"I was going to--"

"Offer your power. I know, and you have no idea how much I appreciate you for it. But I need to do this on my own."

Annie watched them face off inside the circle of salt, ghost and witch. She had never been so scared in her life.

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# TEN

"I found a note, from Juliet. One she wrote to her dead sister. The day before she died."

Daniel looked confused. Claire wasn't certain whether to be happy about that or not.

"Is that why I am here, surrounded by this foul salt? Because of a note?"

"Juliet broke off your engagement."

Daniel closed his eyes, and such pain flashed across his face, it hurt to see. "My mother did not approve of the match, and made it known, publicly. Juliet was afraid that if she married me, I would lose everything." He met Claire's eye. "When I was attacked, I was on my way here to tell her that my mother had no control over me, or my finances, and even if she did, I would still happily marry. With Juliet at my side, I was a rich man, no matter how much money I possessed."

"If you loved her as you say, openly, why did she write this?"

Claire held the note up so Daniel could read it.

"Where did you find this?" His voice was deadly quiet, the rage in it leaving goosebumps on Claire's arms.

"In her secretary."

"This is not Juliet's handwriting."

Claire stepped back. "I compared it--"

"She did not write this. Do you have another sample?"

"I--yes." Claire pulled another folded note out of her pocket. "They are identical--"

"They are close, but this is where the forger made their mistake. Juliet wrote her thoughts in notes, which everyone knew. What only Emily and I knew was that Juliet always signed those notes."

She looked at the second note. "I didn't see a signature when I compared them, and I don't see one now."

Daniel let out an impatient sound. "After the last word, in the second note. She always ended them with a hand drawn sprig of lavender. Sometimes she wove it into the lettering of the last word. Hold up the bloody paper--there, right there." His finger stabbed at the paper. "Check all of her notes, and you will find the same. She did it on all her correspondence, whether it was notes to herself, or a letter to a friend. I found it charming, and clever. Her middle name was Lavender."

He looked at her, defiant and scared. Claire met his eyes, hoping that what he just told her was not some smooth lie. "Annie--please bring me the pile of papers on the desk. Wait until I tell you to hand them to me."

She watched Annie sprint to the desk and gather up all the correspondence she had pulled out of Juliet's secretary, then turned to Daniel. "Move one inch while she is passing the papers to me over the salt, and I will drive this poker straight through you."

"Understood, witch."

It hurt that they were back to the barely contained animosity. Even as she suspected Daniel, she still liked him, wanted him to be innocent. Keeping her gaze on him, the tip of the poker leveled an inch from his chest, she held out her free hand, careful not to cross the salt. Annie laid the papers in her open hand and backed away quickly.

Daniel didn't even blink.

Glancing up at him every couple of seconds, Claire scanned the other correspondence. Every single one had the sprig of lavender, sometimes cleverly worked into her name, other times a small drawing at the end of the note or letter.

"Have I passed your damn fool test, witch?"

"I'm sorry. I had to know, before I left my power wide open." She broke the salt circle with her foot and stepped away from Daniel. He glared at her as he stood, as he walked past her, finally freeing her from that vengeful, powerful gaze. Her next words stopped his furious stride. "Someone was meant to find that note, Daniel."

He swung around--and disappeared, reappearing in front of her, so close she almost stumbled backward. His hand caught her wrist, his icy grip burning into her skin.

"I would seek to learn who wrote it, from one who would know."

He studied Claire, like she already had the answer...

"Oh," she whispered. "You think--"

"I do. Which means she has known, all these years, who murdered my Juliet."

Annie cleared her throat. "Care to let me in on the joke?" Claire held out her hand, and pulled Annie down to whisper in her ear. "Holy sh--" She cut herself off, and met Claire's eyes. "How?"

"Just as we did with Daniel. A trap."

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# ELEVEN

Rage and grief burned through Daniel as he waited for the trap to spring.

How? How could she stand by and watch Juliet walk to her own death?

Her transparent figure appeared in the bedroom doorway, and he watched her drift over to the secretary before he blocked the way out. Behind him, he felt the noxious salt as Claire sealed them in. Neither would leave until he had the truth.

Emily turned, one hand at her throat. "Daniel? Why are you--I thought--"

"That I had been removed from the game? Claire doubted enough to question me first, before she believed that I lied to her, and murdered Juliet."

He shot across the room, so fast Emily did not have time to do more than stare. She tried to disappear, but he was ready for her, and dumped the bag of salt he held, trapping them both in the corner. Even with the bag doubled, the salt still burned him, and he felt heat under his skin for the first time in two hundred years.

"Daniel--what are you--"

"I want the truth, Emily. Neither of us will leave until I am satisfied."

"You would stay, miss the chance to save your beloved Juliet?"

There it was--the anger he had expected. "I know you saw who wrote this note. That your jealousy condemned your own sister."

"She was supposed to marry first! Instead, our father gave into her whining pleas, and I was forced into a marriage with a man I could barely stand to look at." Emily lifted her chin, fire in her blue eyes. "I blamed Juliet, for years. But we reconciled, and when year after year passed with no proposal, I knew she would become a spinster, and an outcast, despite her looks. I died with that knowledge as comfort, stayed to watch her live a solitary life. The years softened my animosity, and I enjoyed spending time with her, listening to her talk about her life, as if she knew I was in the room with her. I did love her, Daniel, before she met you."

"Who wrote the note?" When she kept silent, he leaned in, bracing his hands against the wall. "Do not test me, Emily. I have lost everything that is dear to me, but I will give up my last chance to be with Juliet to condemn her murderer to Hell."

Her eyes widened. "You would not--"

"If you refuse to tell me, I will leave you here, trapped. Tell me, and I will not have Claire send you the way of Juliet's murderer."

Emily stared up at him, silent for so long he nearly gave up. When he began to turn away, she spoke.

"It was Bea."

Surprise left him speechless for several moments. "Juliet's chaperone?"

"Aunt Beatrice has been jealous of Juliet from the beginning. She looked--happy, when she was writing it. I thought nothing of it then."

"How could you not--"

"I thought it was another of her spiteful messages to Juliet! But now, after what you've told me, and that I was trapped here the night of her death, when I had always been able to wander freely--"

"Thank you, Emily. Claire!"

She strode into the bedroom, her power surrounding her like silver-shot gold light. "I heard. We don't have much time. If this aunt has hated Juliet for so many years, that hate will give her more power than I had planned to face."

Fear struck Daniel, hard and fast. "You do not mean to--"

"Walk away? I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. Now, I know what I'm dealing with." She pushed aside the salt trapping them. "Daniel--your hand."

He looked down, and saw that simply holding the bag that contained the salt had left an angry burn on his palm. "It is nothing, Claire. I would rather you expend your energy for Juliet."

"All right. Let's go. I want some time before the main event." She blinked, and looked up at Daniel. "That sounded like Annie."

He could not stop the smile at her surprised expression. "She has influenced you more than you expected."

"It's hard not to like her."

"You sound surprised."

She smiled at him. "I don't make friends. It has never been to my advantage."

"You are an odd woman, Claire Wiche."

"You are an annoying ghost, Daniel Sutherland. And I'm glad I met you."

Another smile crossed his face, surprising him.

"The sentiment is mutual."

"Let's go free your Juliet."

Daniel followed her, and prayed that his trust was well placed. If not, he may lose Juliet forever.

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# TWELVE

Annie watched Claire get ready for the--ejection? Banishing? She wasn't quite sure what to call it, but she'd had too long to think, and now she was beyond scared and moving into terrified.

"--hand me that flashlight. Annie." Claire's voice burst into her oncoming panic attack. "Tell me what's going on in your mind."

"Terror. Panic. Unbelievably vivid images of me, you, dead on the floor."

Claire held out her hand. "None of that is going to happen, not if I can help it. You don't need to be part of this."

"Don't." Annie dropped the flashlight into Claire's hand and crossed her arms. "Don't baby me because I'm freaking out a little. Okay, a lot. I wanted to be part of this. I need to, if I'm going to do more than just acknowledge the fact that I have power."

"More power than you think."

"I--what?"

"It shines around you, Annie. I will be happy to help you train, learn how to control it."

"I--okay." She wandered over to the table that held their hodgepodge of supplies.

Everything Claire asked for, that Daniel knew was in the mansion, was collected on the side table.

Now he stood in the corner, as far from the salt and iron as he could get and still be in the room. He looked appropriately dark and brooding, with his shoulder length hair and long wool coat. Annie definitely saw the appeal--especially to a woman who had probably given up on marrying. Daniel Sutherland was Heathcliff, without all the emotional hang ups.

That distracted her from what Claire said about her power--for a minute.

She had always known she had some kind of--talent. Mom had been terrified that she had a tumor, so Annie tucked away her odd experiences, and became the little girl she thought they wanted.

Soon she forgot about the way she could float her toys across the room, and fell into the role of normal daughter. A role she loved, until she lost her parents, and everything that mattered to her. Walking into Claire's store was the first thing she had done for the person she might have been. The person she wanted to be now.

She just hoped she had the courage for it.

"Midnight is approaching." Daniel pushed away from the wall and stalked forward, looking at Claire. "Are you prepared, witch? The murderer will hold sway sooner than later."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Daniel--I think you should--"

The French doors blasted open and leaves flew into the room.

Daniel stepped in front of Claire and raised his arms, blocking the leaves. An angry shriek cut through the air, and Daniel doubled, falling to his hands and knees.

Annie darted forward. "Daniel--"

"Get--back--"

She ignored his weak order and crouched down next to him, Claire joining her on his other side.

"We'll each take an arm." She hooked her arm around his and pulled. Slowly, with Claire supporting his other side, they got him upright. "What happened?"

"Pain, like I have not felt since my death."

Claire touched his chest. "Where were you stabbed?"

"Here." He pressed his hand over his left ribcage. "I could not breathe, or move once I fell."

"The knife punctured a lung. Is the pain still there?"

"I certainly hope so." A cloaked figure stood at the blasted French doors. "I want your beloved to watch you suffer before she dies. Again."

*

Daniel managed to get in front of Claire before the figure threw them against the far wall, taking the brunt of the blast. Claire caught him around the waist and eased him to the floor.

"Stay here," she whispered. "You've done enough."

"Juliet--ˮ

"I'm not leaving until she is free. I promise." Claire stood and faced the cloaked figure. Black velvet billowed around her, revealing a busty, obviously female form. "You can stop hiding, Beatrice."

A hollow laugh filtered out from under the deep hood. She pushed it back, her round, pretty face as solid as Daniel. "So, the cowardly Emily gave me up. I would have been her chaperone, if Juliet had not whined to her father about wanting to marry for love." Long, smoky black coils spread out from under her cloak, slithering toward Claire, toward Daniel. Claire threw up a shield, aware that it would take more power than she could afford. She didn't dare look for Annie, and betray her presence. "I was hired by my own sister to watch over her, keep her from running off with the first man she decided she was in love with."

"Why did you kill her?"

"She taunted me!" Beatrice took a moment to calm herself, the ugly black trails of her power creeping back across the floor. "I could have married, had a family of my own. I am a good person, a kind person--except with her. She had a way about her that left me shaking with anger every time I was around her. When she boasted of her marriage to him," she pointed at Daniel, "and claimed that I would be a spinster for the rest of my life, I could no longer restrain myself."

"It must have been difficult, living in her shadow. That's why you wrote the note."

"The note--right." That tripped Beatrice up, and Claire knew the story had been a lie.

"You wrote the note, and waited for her here the following night. She would have taken time after all, to decide to kill herself after losing the love of her life."

"No--I--ˮ

"But it didn't go as planned, did it? She fought you, and you were forced to kill her in a way that wouldn't point to suicide. Did you know that Daniel was already dead?"

Beatrice lifted her chin. "Since I am the one who killed him, yes. Minutes before I killed his beloved Juliet."

The angry snarl behind Claire told her she didn't have much time, and she needed to keep Beatrice talking, keep her from marking the time. "Did you tell Juliet, before you attacked her?"

"Of course! What was the point, if she did not know she was alone in the world, and about to follow her precious Daniel? But the foolish girl did not believe, and fought me--ˮ She cut herself off as silver-shot light flared from the obsidian on Claire's ring. Her gaze snapped up to the clock, and she smiled, an ugly smile. "You thought to distract me, until we passed the time for me to kill her. Clever, witch, but not clever enough."

"Once again, Aunt Beatrice, you are wrong."

Claire understood the flash of light when she saw Juliet in the doorway. A rich silver glow surrounded her, highlighted her delicate, beautiful face.

"Juliet..." Daniel's raw whisper turned her, and the love that filled her clear blue eyes lodged tears in Claire's throat. "My love."

"Daniel. You came for me." She stepped toward him, and stopped, her hands twisted together, as if she needed to force herself to keep from touching him. "I must finish this."

"Not alone." He used the wall to stand, the front of his pristine shirt dark with blood. "I will not leave you this time."

She smiled at him, then turned to face Beatrice. "I was on my way here, as I have done every year since I can remember, always moving toward the library. But this time I was interrupted. This time, my sister Emily stepped in to warn me, wake me from my stupor."

Emily appeared behind her, obviously frightened. But she met Beatrice's furious glare.

Beatrice curled her lip. "You deserved the death you received, Emily. Slipping away like a coward, so you would not have to deal with the responsibility of motherhood."

Emily flinched and stepped back, but Juliet moved to Beatrice, anger radiating from her.

"You have always been bitter, even before Mother asked you to be my chaperone."

"Asked? You honestly believe I was asked? Your mother, my baby sister, ordered me to watch over you, paid me a pittance so I would never have the means to leave, and live the life I should have lived, with a man who could have loved me!"

She disappeared, her screeching voice echoing in the room.

Claire slumped against the wall, exhausted from the effort of keeping Beatrice from touching her mind, her heart. A cool hand closed over her shoulder.

"You did it, Claire." Daniel smiled down at her. "Thank you."

"Juliet had more to do with it than I did, and Emily as well."

Emily moved forward, and Juliet gathered her into her arms. "Thank you, my darling sister." She cradled Emily's cheek. "I want you to go now. Be with your son. He will be waiting for you, missing you."

"Juliet--ˮ

"We will join you soon. Go, Emily. You have earned your place."

Emily kissed Juliet's cheek. "I am sorry I stood by, when I could have tried to warn you. I knew that Beatrice hated you, that the hate was growing, every day that your wedding drew closer."

"Thank you, but you know I wouldn't have heard you. Oh, I knew you were with me. I felt your presence. But most of the time, I convinced myself it was fanciful wishing, because I missed you so much. Go, little sister. Daniel and I will see you there."

Emily stepped back, fading as she was enveloped by a soft, warm gold light.

"Juliet--" Daniel caught the wall, his knees buckling, his right hand pressed to his chest.

"No, Daniel." Juliet moved to him. "We are going together. You need to hold on, my love, for a minute longer--ˮ

An ugly scream cut her off.

"I will take you to Hell with me, first!" Beatrice burst out of thin air and aimed the knife in her hand at Juliet's back. "You will never see him again!"

Before Claire could move Annie sprinted across the library and threw herself in front of the knife.

"Annie!" Claire gathered her power, fear a knot in her throat when she knew she wouldn't make it in time--

The knife arced straight at Annie's heart--and froze, like it had caught itself in a--

Claire looked at Annie's raised hand. She held the hunk of obsidian.

"You're going to Hell all by yourself, you heartless, dried up bitch."

Rage twisted Beatrice's face. "You dare--ˮ

She raised the knife again, and Annie threw the obsidian at her.

The black stone drove into Beatrice's chest. She dropped the knife and clawed at it, black smoke pouring out of the wound.

Annie stumbled backward. Claire caught her around the waist, holding her upright. They both recoiled when Beatrice started screaming. Claire knew what was about to happen; she hauled Annie back and stepped in front of her, just before the clawed hands appeared, reaching up through the floor.

They wrapped around Beatrice and dragged her down, into the floor. Her desperate screams echoed in the library long after she disappeared.

Annie sagged behind her, and Claire turned to catch her before she collapsed.

"What were you thinking?"

Annie met her eyes, so pale Claire expected her to pass out any moment. Instead, she took a few deep breaths.

"I didn't want her to win."

"You could have been killed." The fear Claire had felt when she saw Annie leap in front of that very solid knife swept through her again. "What made you think you wouldn't be hurt?"

"Oh, I knew there was a good chance I'd be hurt. I just believed that the obsidian would do what it was supposed to do, and that good would triumph, blah blah blah."

Claire laughed, helpless to stop herself. "Only you would toss off a near death as blah blah blah."

Annie smiled. "You know me too well already. I guess that means you're stuck with me."

The dread Claire expected didn't appear. "I guess so."

"Good."

The clock struck midnight, and they both turned to Daniel and Juliet. She had her arms  around him, holding him upright, his shaky hand cradling her cheek. He lifted his head, met Claire's eyes.

"Thank you, for believing in me." His hand reached out toward Annie. She moved to him, and hesitated before she took it, letting out a surprised gasp when he pulled her in. "Thank you, Annie Sullivan, for risking all to stand between Juliet and her fate." He tilted her chin and gently kissed her. "Your courage will not be forgotten."

She blushed, and backed away from him. "I--just don't come back and haunt me, okay?"

He smiled. "Okay."

Annie took Claire's hand, her fingers shaking in Claire's grasp.

They watched the lovers reach for each other. As the clock chimed for the last time, their lips met, and they faded, leaving Claire and Annie in the battered library.

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# THIRTEEN

Annie stood in front of Daniel's headstone, the cold, late night wind whipping around her.

"Do you think they made it? That they're together?"

Claire stepped to her side. "Yes, I do."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss him." She pulled the heart-shaped amethyst out of her jacket pocket, and glanced over at Claire. "I hope you don't mind."

"It was a gift, to do with as you wish."

Annie knelt in front of the stone with Daniel's name. "I want you to know," she whispered. "I'm rooting for the happy ending." She laid the amethyst on the ledge, tears stinging her eyes. "For both of us."

She closed her eyes when Claire crouched next to her, one hand rubbing her back, a soothing gesture that reminded Annie of Mom.

"You will find your happy ending, Annie. You're a good person, with a big heart. It's waiting for you, when you are ready to accept it."

"Thanks." She barely got the word out, her tears threatening to overwhelm her.

"I will go, if that's what you want."

Still staring at the headstone, Daniel's name blurred, Annie shook her head. When Claire wrapped one arm around her waist, she gave in to her grief.

Without a word, Claire held her, let her cry herself out. She finally pulled away, more than a little embarrassed.

"I have to go." She stumbled to her feet.

"You know where to find me, Annie, when you're ready." Claire's quiet voice halted her. "I will always be here for you."

Those words squeezed her heart. She wanted to turn around, go back to Claire's store, and open herself to the possibilities of her power. But doubt turned out to be stronger than her want.

She kept going, out of the cemetery, away from the one person who would ever really understand.

*

It took a few days before Annie had the courage to face Claire again.

She knew she had been monumentally stupid, jumping in front of Beatrice. Then, after all they'd been through, rejecting Claire's offer of friendship by running away.

Now she stood in front of The Wiche's Broom, her hands damp, unsure of her welcome. She almost jumped off the sidewalk when the door swung open.

"Are you going to stand out here all day, or are you going to come in?" Claire raised an eyebrow at her, a smile tugging at her mouth.

"Um, come in?"

"Good choice."

Annie followed her inside, expecting to see it full of customers. Instead, only a few people browsed, glancing over at Annie and nodding.

"I thought you'd be busy."

"The weeks between Halloween and Thanksgiving tend to be slow, except for my regulars."

Annie's eyes widened. "Are they--witches?" She recognized some of them.

"There's no need to whisper. They know what they are." With a smile, Claire led her to the front counter. "I have a gift for you, and a question. First, the gift."

She pulled a beautifully wrapped box out from under the counter and handed it to Annie.

"Do I open it now?"

"I'd like that. Part of the pleasure for me is watching someone open what I've given them."

"Right." She carefully untied the ribbons, then opened the box and peeked in. "Oh, my God."

"Your first athame. You will collect more, but I wanted to give you this one. It was my first as well."

Carefully, Annie lifted the silver and amethyst athame out of the box. It was simple, but beautifully made, the amethyst handle a rich, dark purple. "I don't--I don't know what to say."

"Say you will accept my offer to train you." Annie met her eyes, surprise and hope surging through her. "You showed me in the Sutherland mansion just how powerful you are, and you need to learn how to control it, how to become the witch you are meant to be."

"I'd like that," she whispered. The athame blurred, and she realized that she was about to cry. Again. "Damn--ˮ

"Annie." Claire's hand on her wrist stopped her impending escape. "Never be afraid of your emotions. They are tied to your power, and if you don't let yourself feel them, you can seriously affect your ability."

"Okay." She sniffed, and wiped her eyes. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to hide when I want a good cry."

"As long as you have that cry, I'm good with it. Now for my question." Claire looked nervous. She had never looked nervous. "Will you allow me to explore--being a friend?"

Annie bit back a smile. "We're already friends, Claire. You can explore all you want, but as far as I'm concerned, it's a done deal. You haven't really had friends, have you?"

"It is not--my life hasn't been conducive to friends before now."

"I'll be happy to point out your mistakes."

Claire laughed, shaking her head. "I'm certain you will." She gathered up the ribbons, avoiding eye contact. "Would you like to stay for lunch? I can order from Lily's."

"You'll never need to ask, not when roast beef sandwiches are involved. Claire." She waited until Claire looked up, uncertainty in her silver-edged blue eyes. Someday, Annie would have to ask about her heritage; she'd never seen that combination before. "Being friends means that lunch, or dinner, or breakfast, or an ice cream binge, is a given. Got it?"

She took a shaky breath. "Got it. So, lunch?"

Annie smiled. "Sounds great. I'll buy this time." She waved off Claire's protest. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty of chances to pay. Especially when we do steak at Billie's Pub. I'll go grab lunch."

Claire's laughter followed her out of the store, and she nearly danced down the sidewalk to Lily's small takeout. She was going to train as a witch, and spend time with a woman she admired as much as Mom.

Thought of her didn't bring on the squeezing ache of grief. Instead, Annie felt warm, and loved. She looked at the athame, still clutched in her hand, and smiled.

"I'm going to be okay, Mom."

Her life was about to change again. And she had the feeling that Claire Wiche was going to make that life a whole lot of interesting.

~ * ~

Thank you for joining Claire and Annie in their first adventure together! You can read all of them in The Claire Wiche Chronicles.

Want an advance notice of the next release - and be in on some exclusive contests? Then sign up for my list: <http://catedeanwrites.com/join-my-list/>.

--------

Find all my books here: <http://catedeanwrites.com/my-catalog>

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# About The Author

Cate Dean has been writing since she could hold a pen in her hand and put more than two words together on paper.

She grew up losing herself in the wilds of fantasy worlds, and has had some of her own adventures while tromping through the UK, and a few other parts of the world.

A lover of all things supernatural, she infuses that love into her stories, giving them a unique edge.

When she's not writing, she loves cooking, scaring herself silly in the local cemeteries, and reading pretty much anything she can get her hands on.

There - I got the official biography out of the way. I love to write, and yes, I have been doing it most of my life. I've made up stories in my head for as long as I can remember, and I am thrilled to be able to write them down and share them with you.

I love writing different types of stories, and jump from fantasy, to mystery and paranormal, then over to romance and YA. So many genres, so little time...

If you want to be the first to know when the next book is released, or be in on some fun, exclusive contests and giveaways, join my list here: <http://catedeanwrites.com/join-my-list>.

I look forward to meeting you. :)
Did you love _More Than A Feeling_? Then you should read _Rest For The Wicked_ by Cate Dean!

She's running from her past - and running out of time.Claire Wiche is an ordinary woman, running her Wicca shop in an ordinary California beach town.But Claire wasn't always ordinary, and she isn't quite human. She hides a secret, and a past she thought she had put behind her.A past that is about to explode into her present.When it does, and everyone she loves is in danger, Claire must face up to her past - and become what she left behind in order to save them.

Read more at Cate Dean's site.
