Spiritbound Read online

  Declan relaxed back into his chair. ‘Well, my battle training was over in England and I’m a qualified teacher now. I intend to start a small school, teach the young ones fighting skills. My application is being considered by the council.’

  ‘Not to give offence or anything like that, but why do we need to train for battle? I mean, we blend in with humans. We’ve been peaceful with the other folk for five hundred years.’

  ‘You haven’t heard about the dark witch revolt?’

  ‘Yes.’ She shrugged. ‘But that’s in the UK and Europe. The biggest problem we’ve had here is some of our own leaving the coven and making a new one up north, and that was ages ago, before we were born. Seems to me it’s a free world, and if people want to form a new coven they should be able to. I’ve only ever heard rumours of a dark witch in the north, but no real evidence. If she exists, she must be pretty tame.’

  Declan was about to argue, she guessed, but shrugged instead. ‘You know, battle training is not all about fighting wars or battles. It’s about skills—learning new ones, honing them. It works to curb some aggressive tendencies, too. You may not know it but we’ve lost a number of our kind to random violence.’ He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. ‘Out there. On the streets. Being able to protect yourself from harm is a skill every witch or warlock should have.’

  ‘There’s more to it, isn’t there?’

  Twin points of colour grew on his cheeks. ‘No. Forget I mentioned it. Let’s just say it’s good to be prepared.’

  Grace tilted her head, considering his words. She’d not been paying attention to what was going on overseas, but she intended to now. If there was something to be wary of, she wanted to be across it. ‘I see your point. I did hear a rumour that you were rather good.’

  His high cheekbones were accentuated by the blush that spread over his face. ‘My parents are too ready to sing my praises.’

  She chuckled lightly. ‘They love you. You’ve done a lot to make them proud. Nothing to be ashamed of.’

  The waiter came over and took their order. ‘So what do you do with your time? A powerful witch like you, the whole world would be for the taking.’

  Grace lowered her head and stared at her fingers, which she was tying in knots. ‘About that.’

  ‘Do you mean you’re not working for the coven?’

  ‘Yes, well. I…er…help out in the preschool two days a week.’

  ‘What?’ He threw himself back in his seat. His dark eyes studied her face. ‘That’s such a waste.’

  ‘As a volunteer.’ She struggled to maintain eye contact. While she hadn’t relaxed in his presence, there had been a certain rapport. Now, with this line of questioning, uneasiness grew. She fought for a balance in her emotions. She was happy with the status quo. There was no way she would be intimidated by him just because he disagreed.

  He thumped his fist down on the table, making her start. ‘I can’t believe that they could be so stupid, to waste your talent like that. There is so much good you could be doing.’ He balled his hand into a fist. For the first time in nine years, she reached out with her senses, brushing them against his aura gently so that he wouldn’t detect her. It was enough of a contact for her to know he was genuinely upset for her.

  ‘I don’t hold grudges. That day changed—’

  He leaned forward so that she had nowhere else to look but at him. ‘Do you blame me, Grace?’

  She shook her head. ‘Of course not.’ Her denial was instinctive. She had never blamed him. It had been her own stupid fault.

  ‘I ran and tattled on you.’

  ‘My mother would have called the council anyway, reported the incident. You know a ghost cat is not easy to hide. It would have come out.’

  ‘But I never saw you again.’ That comment cut into her heart.

  She swallowed and stared at the table-top. She did not want him to know how much that had hurt. ‘You did the right thing. Please can we not—’ The memory of that day flashed up. Grace squashed it; she didn’t want to relive that day. She’d lost her best friend—him. That was the worst of it. She’d done something miraculous that she’d never regretted, despite it being so wrong. Dark witches raised the dead. Not good ones. But Elena kept her cat. Grace had been punished and learnt later why it was such a terrible thing.

  ‘Please, Grace, let me speak. You don’t understand. I never got a chance to talk to you again, never got the chance to say how sorry I am. I’ve thought about it. It’s been in my mind since I saw you. It was my fault. It wouldn’t have happened but for me.’

  ‘No, that’s not—’

  He squeezed her hand. It was as if he had shocked her with a bolt of electricity. She froze, breath still in her lungs, until he moved his hand away again. And then, like the breath was running out of her, she sagged.

  ‘I was annoyed at Elena. She kept clinging to Fel and I wanted her to play tennis with me. I grabbed the cat off her, scared it so it ran onto the road straight in front of a passing motorcycle. I caused her beloved pet to die.’

  Grace narrowed her eyelids. She couldn’t believe this. He’d been harbouring guilt all this time. She’d never suspected his part in it. ‘Elena never said anything. I don’t know what to—’

  ‘I’m just as much at fault as you. I knew Elena loved Fel; that she was still adjusting to her new life with your family. I knew, knew how much you loved her.’

  ‘You knew everything about me.’ There, she’d said it. Alluded to their bond.

  ‘Yes, Grace. I did. I remember all of it.’

  The coffees arrived. Grace’s emotions churned. Anger, hurt and regret jumbled together. These were feelings she wanted to avoid. She was in the café to hide from it all, not confront it. The past. The future. Yet, she couldn’t escape. Declan Mallory was here, tossing it at her as if he were tossing stones in a deep pond. He was guilty? Give her a break. He didn’t reach through the veil of death and bring a spirit back. He hadn’t known she could do that. No one had. What right did he have to feel guilty about that day? He’d done the right thing. If only…if only…he hadn’t gone away, but that wasn’t his choice, was it?

  Her coffee spilled when she stood up abruptly. ‘I’m going. Something has come up.’ She fumbled for coins in her pocket and tossed them on the table. Tugging her bag onto her shoulder, she angled around the tables. Near running, she made it to the street and then jogged along until she found another boutique to hide in.

  Once inside, colours assaulted her. She flicked through the clothes blindly, just for something to do. Why had he bailed her up? Why had he brought up the past? The past she had to live with every day. A few deep breaths and calm returned. He must have thought she was a nut, running out like that.

  It was all too hard to put straight. Declan messed with her head. No, it was her heart. He was a beacon of energy that her spirit craved. Had been since that day when they had melded their minds, their spirits and their essences. Declan had experienced the very core of her. He was a bright, warm essence that bathed and penetrated her. Later, Declan had said that not many of the folk could make such a connection. It was a rare thing. Something only the ancient texts talked about. They shared a bond. A bond now severed. She’d never let herself get that close to anyone again. She doubted they could do it again if they tried. That melding had happened because they were young and innocent. There were no barriers; no built-up hurt or mistrust to prevent it.

  Someone was watching her. Her head came up and the vibration tickled the back of her tongue. It was a witch. Surreptitiously she angled around, checking the mirror. It was Danila. Although she was ostensibly examining a dress, Grace could feel the bad vibe leaking from the other woman. Had she seen her with Declan or was it general dislike? Grace remembered the woman’s slight from the other night. Right now, Grace couldn’t deal with petty distain. She had other more pressing issues on her mind.

  Slipping through the other customers, she made for the door. A wave of magic rippled around her—a spell of some k
ind. She was almost at the door. The door alarm went off. Then suddenly, Declan loomed in front of her.

  Dumbfounded, Grace hesitated near the door. She backed up as Declan came into the store. ‘What?’

  Declan looked at her shoulder bag. Following the direction of his gaze, she saw that there was a blouse sticking out of the opening. The shop assistant came bounding up. ‘Miss? Are you going to pay for that?’

  ‘I…er…’ Grace threw her glance around the store. Danila. That cow. Where did she get to? A change room curtain rippled at the back of the shop.

  She swung back around, remembering Declan was there. Why did he have to see this embarrassing incident? Would he even believe she was innocent?’

  ‘Darling,’ he began with a tender smile. ‘Let me see that blouse.’ He tugged it from her shoulder bag. ‘So nice of you to bring it over for me to have a look at. I’m sorry I had to slip out for a sec.’ He turned to the shop assistant. ‘I’m sorry we set the alarm off.’

  He held the blouse up. It was hideous. He hoped he didn’t make her buy it. ‘It’s not your colour.’ He leaned over and kissed her on the check. Grace shut down her senses. He could not see into her; she would not let him in. That was an intimacy only children could afford.

  He passed the garment back to the shop assistant. ‘I saw a much better one in a shop down the road. Come on.’

  He linked arms with her and led her out of the shop. Grace’s heart thumped. Her head span. When they were out on the street, he angled her out of the pedestrian flow. ‘Oh goddess. What are you doing?’ She drew back her arm. ‘Were you following me?’

  ‘Yes, I was.’

  Grace gaped and clicked her mouth shut. ‘The nerve of you.’

  His glared in the direction of the shop. ‘Are you going to report her?’

  ‘What?’

  He brought those dark eyes of his back to her face. She saw that he had green flecks around his irises. His eyes were hazel, not brown. ‘Are you going to report Danila What’s-Her-Face for what she did?’

  Grace lowered her eyebrows and stepped around him. He followed close behind. Damn, why wouldn’t he leave her alone? She swung about around, confronted him. ‘What’s the point in that? It won’t change anything. Retaliation only makes it worse.’

  She hitched her bag higher and turned to go. After two steps, his hand was on her shoulder.

  ‘But what she did was wrong.’ He spun her around so they faced each and then leaned in. ‘It could have gotten messy in there. You have to fight back.’ They were almost nose-to-nose.

  Grace shook her head. ‘I can deal with it. I was distracted. Normally…’

  ‘I upset you, didn’t I?’

  She dropped her gaze. ‘Not at all.’

  ‘At least do me the courtesy of being truthful.’

  He tugged her out of the path of a bunch of schoolkids. Leaning in close, he spoke into her ear. ‘I didn’t set out to make you feel bad—’

  ‘I didn’t think you would.’

  ‘Please let me finish, Grace. I had to get that off my chest, that little secret I’ve carried all these years. It took a load off my mind—’

  ‘That’s great for you.’ Now he was making her angry.

  ‘Please, Grace. I didn’t think that it would hurt—’

  ‘What do you know about it? Oh, precious son returned from triumph. What could you possibly know about my life?’

  ‘Grace, I’m sorry. Forgive me; I’m a stupid prick. I—’

  ‘I’ve got to go.’

  She put some distance between them but he followed her with long strides, dodging other pedestrians. He caught her in the car park. ‘Grace, wait.’ He grabbed her arm and swung her around.

  ‘Please stay away from me. Just pick one of the numerous witches dying to have your baby and stay out of my life.’ She took a few steps, keeping her back to him when he spoke.

  ‘Grace. That’s not fair. You’ve got to give me a chance.’

  She swung around. ‘No, I don’t. You had your chance and you blew it.’

  Declan snorted. ‘I was bloody fifteen, Grace. Give me a break. You say you can deal with it, have dealt with it, but you’re still that thirteen-year-old girl, too ignorant to see what she’s doing.’

  ‘Bugger. Off!’

  ‘No. I won’t. I was a child. I deserve—no, I demand a second chance.’

  Grace clenched her jaw and stormed away. After a few angry steps, she readjusted her shoulder bag, hauling it onto her shoulder, and ran.

  The house was empty when she arrived home. She stood in the hallway, realising her mother and Elena were still out. She took great satisfaction in slamming the front door, then she threw up the house wards and stomped into her room. She tossed her bag at the wall and then flopped down on the bed. After banging her head against the mattress a few times, she dragged a pillow under her and let the tears flow. All those hurtful things he’d said were like lashes across her heart. He was wrong. She’d grown up from that young girl who had idolised him. She saw him now for the conceited bastard he was. Let all the single witches in the coven hound him to the ground. Let him mate with every single one. He probably had the stamina. As a bystander, she’d have a crack-up time laughing at them all.

  Chapter Three

  ‘All right then,’ Grace said, then clapped her hands when the children didn’t look to her. ‘We are making scones with a little something extra in them.’ She caught one young boy’s attention. ‘Earl, what are we putting in the scones today?’

  Earl was five years old with a mass of dark ringlets. He tilted his head. ‘Love!’

  Grace nodded. ‘Yes, love.’

  ‘Esme? What kind of love are we adding to our mixture?’

  Esme did a hair toss. She was six and the oldest of this group. ‘Familial love.’ She looked down at Earl. ‘So our families will feel our love through our food.’

  Grace nodded. ‘Yes, it’s a simple basic spell. What are our rules with spells?’

  A hand shot up. ‘Yes, Wade.’

  ‘Only for family. No humans.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. None of the scones are for non-folk, because that wouldn’t be right.’

  The children combined their ingredients and she came around and helped them add the essential ingredient, the spell that would activate it. Technically, if a human ate the scone they would be no more affected than one of the folk. It was a basic potion spell, with very little effect. The children would earn extra cuddles and the family would have a warm, tender evening. It was part of the coven’s curriculum for the children in the coven. She paused by Madison’s desk. The young girl, with her hair slicked into a bun, chewed her lips thoughtfully. ‘Is there something wrong?’

  The young girl’s hazel eyes turned to her. ‘I think I did it wrong.’

  ‘Let me see.’ Grace knelt down and probed the pile of dough with her senses. ‘Mmm. An extra portion of orange blossom in there is amplifying the spell bindings. Don’t worry. We can start afresh.’

  Madison pouted prettily. ‘But Miss Grace…’

  ‘It won’t take long, promise.’

  Grace disposed of the dough, zapping it quickly as it hit the bin. Soon after, she had her young pupil mixing up a new batch and assisted her with the spell. Madison’s smile made what she was doing so satisfying. The coven may be wary of her, but Grace loved working with the children.

  A loud bang made her start. ‘What the…?’

  She walked over to the full-length windows that looked out over the playground. Wham, a ball headed straight at her, then diverted at the last second. Grace had jumped back and her pupils laughed.

  ‘That was entertaining, wasn’t it?’ She turned her back on the goings on outside and faced her class. ‘Now, are our ovens at the right temperature?’ She walked along, checking the temperature gauges, and adjusted one or two.

  Through the window she saw the older kids forming lines. The ball was obviously forgotten. She wondered what they were up to, but had to conc
entrate on getting everyone’s scones in the oven.

  While the scones were baking, the pupils put away their things and cleaned all the utensils while Grace locked up the potion ingredients in the cupboard. The children outside were growing rowdy. There was high-pitched cheering over the deeper male voice. The intermediate grade had a new teacher, obviously.

  The goings on outside gradually distracted her pupils. Grace sighed as she watched them filter away from their tables. Grace clapped her hands again when all her pupils were lined up along the windows watching what was going on outside. ‘Come on, you lot. Have a look in the oven. There’re some lovely scones there.’

  Only a few of the children peeled away from the windows. ‘Only a few more minutes until break. Who wants to miss out on seeing what’s going on outside?’

  A few heads turned. ‘Come on, see to your scones and then you can go outside to play.’

  Most of her class went to check their ovens and the aroma of freshly-baked scones filled the air. A few straggler boys needed extra prompting.

  ‘Now wrap them all up in your damp tea towels.’

  ‘Can we use magic to do that?’ Esme asked.

  ‘Of course, if you can manage it.’

  Grace scratched her chin and studied the ceiling while Esme attempted to tie the tea towel in an elaborate bow. It was never going to work. It wasn’t that Esme didn’t have the talent, but due to the tea towel not having enough material. Eventually Esme worked it out, picking up the cloth and examining it. With a nod to herself, she tried again, making a neat knot. Sometimes children had to learn through trial and error rather than being told. Within reason, of course. Dangerous activities should be carefully explained to avoid disasters. Grace had learned the hard way about that.

  ‘Outside, the lot of you.’ Grace chuckled as she watched them race to the doorway and squeeze themselves through five at a time. Only experience would teach them. Grace kept an eye out for shoving or injuries, but after a few minutes, they’d sorted themselves out into an orderly line and charged outside, yelling and screaming with joy at being set free.