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  The sound of Hilda arriving startled Nea. She lay there waiting while she heard the tell-tale signs of an argument. The older witch was winning. She could only hear weak, dull tones from her grandfather. Footsteps on the stairs and the wake of Hilda’s power let her know to expect her.

  The door flung open. Hilda wore black tights, with a longish tunic in a dull purple colour, ending just above her knees. Her light brown Polynesian skin contrasted with her lovely white teeth. With her hands on her hips, she frowned as her gaze swept the room. ‘You too, aye?’ Hilda said in a no-nonsense tone, her talent like a swift breeze as it assessed her.

  ‘I need to pee again.’ Nea couldn’t shrug so she looked pitiful instead. ‘I need help, please.’

  Hilda’s brows drew together and then she located the bedpan, tut-tutting as she assisted. ‘Now that your immediate needs are cared for, I have to have a closer look what Gregor’s done to himself. You, I can tell, aren’t going anywhere.’ Then she went over to the en-suite bathroom and filled a glass. ‘Let me help you drink this, first.’

  Nea drank as much of the water as she could and then sunk back onto the pillow.

  ‘I’ll be back. Best you rest for now, but by the look of you, I’d best fetch my potion-making material and cooking pot. You are probably worse than Gregor estimated. I’ll fix you both up quickly. It’s not a good time to be depleted.’

  Nea smiled weakly and dropped off to sleep, intermittently hearing Hilda’s voice, either chanting, arguing, or talking to herself.

  Around midnight, Hilda came in, a steaming mug in her hands. ‘Now, my girl, time for a serious chat. What have you done to yourself, hey? You’re nearly drained. Gregor said so—a brilliant observation from a warlock who is nearly in the same boat—and I can see that for myself.’

  Nea was too exhausted to speak. With a nod, Hilda brought over a chair and put the mug on the side table. ‘Now I want to help you sit up because you are going to drink this potion, every last drop. You need this so you can be better by morning.’

  Nea fluttered her eyelids, trying to rouse herself. There was not enough energy in her limbs to shuffle up the bed to a sitting position.

  ‘That’s the way of it, hey?’ Hilda leaned over and assisted her into a more upright position, tugging pillows around Nea so she didn’t flop over. The older witch sat on the bed next to her and kept her propped up while she supervised the drinking of the potion.

  Nea opened her mouth, only too willing to be restored to herself, the sooner, the better. The day had been full of the agony of waiting and of feeling helpless. She couldn’t remember feeling this way ever in her life.

  As she sipped, she grimaced. Why do potions taste like boiled slimy frogs and tadpole carcasses? Probably because they are essential ingredients. If Nea hadn’t felt so crap she would have laughed at her own joke. As it was, she was numb and totally unamused.

  Her eyes flicked up to Hilda’s face, noting that her skin was relatively unlined. Like the warlocks, some witches could slow their ageing, and Nea suspected Hilda had this talent. Her hair was dark and naturally curly and her eyes were so brown they looked black. Her complexion was tanned but that was her Polynesian heritage, being a Maori from New Zealand.

  Hilda made eye contact and smiled, bringing a shine to her face and displaying a pair of dimples that Nea had not noticed before. Hilda was rather attractive for her age. She was nicely built, not too thin and not too fat, and with nice curves. Her dress sense was about twenty years behind the times though, more like a hippy than a new-ager. No one could accuse of her of being trendy. Not like Elvira, Elena’s adoptive mother. Nea had never seen a witch of that age look so fine. Elvira may not be able to slow her age as well as Gregor could, but she carried off the elegance so naturally one didn’t notice.

  Hilda fussed over Nea when the potion was done. ‘Let me help you lie down now.’ Not really having much energy to resist being placed gently against the pillow, Nea just blinked slowly and swallowed potion-laden spit. There was some cinnamon in there, elderberry, and something that tasted like grass but wasn’t. The magic imbued into the potion made her tongue tingle and her throat burn, both welcome signals. Nea wasn’t much of a potions study. She’d not had much call for it. She’d focused on her strengths in a lackadaisical way—reading people and hanging about the house, looking after Gregor.

  When she thought about it, she really hadn’t tried very hard to do anything, and look where she was—flat out on her back, nearly drained. As she studied the ceiling, she realised that this was her moment. The time when she changed her life. Did something with it. Something worthwhile.

  ‘I’m going to sit with you during the night, dear. You need more doses of the potion. Gregor has responded well. Another couple of doses and he’ll be better than ever.’ The older witch adjusted her chair and then tugged the sheets to Nea’s chin, straightening out the wrinkles.

  Hilda narrowed her gaze. Nea blushed as she was naked beneath the sheets. ‘Perhaps you’d be more comfortable in a night gown?’ Hilda went to the dresser, hesitated, and then opened the correct drawer.

  ‘What about Grandpa? Won’t you need to look after him?’ Nea was embarrassed to take up so much of the older witch’s time.

  Hilda screwed up her face. ‘I’ll deal with Gregor, don’t you worry.’

  Nea kept her gaze on the woman. There was something she wasn’t saying. ‘Will he be all right?’

  Hilda waved a hand. ‘No need to worry about him, hey? A warrior’s heart and a warrior’s mettle, that one.’

  After she helped Nea into her nightie, Hilda sat back in her chair. ‘You’ll be able to get up tomorrow, I think. If you can manage it. The potion is working already. Gregor was right. He couldn’t look after you in this state.’

  During the night, Hilda woke her and made her sip more potion. The cure Hilda dispensed churned Nea’s innards, leaving her feverish and unsettled. When she was agitated, Hilda stroked her forehead and cooed to her as she massaged her scalp, sending her off to sleep again.

  Come morning, Nea woke to see Hilda standing at the window gazing over the lake.

  ‘What’s it like today?’ Nea asked, surprising herself that she had the energy to talk. She climbed farther up in bed, feeling so much better.

  Hilda turned and smiled. ‘A sparkling sapphire today, with diamond lights on the water.’ She sighed. ‘I love this place so much.’ She walked over to the bed and reached out to smooth Nea’s hair. ‘How are you feeling, hey?’

  ‘A lot better. Thanks to you.’

  Hilda waved her hand dismissively. ‘None of that,’ she said, her dark eyes assessing, looking beneath the surface. ‘Yes, your energy levels have improved. You can get up. Gregor wants to talk to you.’

  ‘He does?’ Nea’s face flushed. That was not a discussion she was looking forward to.

  ‘Yes, I will tell him you’ll be down in a jiffy.’ Hilda paused at the door and grinned. ‘You know, Nea. We’re a coven, a family. You need to be open about what happened to you.’

  Nea watched as the door snicked shut. A noise startled her, making her heart thump harder. Her eyes flicked around the room.

  Earl’s calm vibrations washed over her, then the room was conjured away. She lay on the grass by the lakeshore. Earl was there, stroking the ends of her hair.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I had no idea that making love to you would drain you.’

  ‘So it was that?’

  ‘It must be. I’m full of energy, new energy and life. See …?’ He showed her his hand, moved it around and wiggled his fingers. ‘It has more substance.’

  She gazed at him, not quite able to smile.

  ‘I couldn’t come sooner. The witch was there the whole night tending you.’

  A sigh escaped her and her eyes closed. They didn’t touch but she was warmed by his presence.

  Then she remembered her grandfather was waiting to talk to her. ‘Gregor!’ She blurted out. Her gaze met Earl’s. ‘I’m sorry, I ha
ve to go. I have some explaining to do.’

  The conjuring faded and she was back in her room.

  Chapter Six

  Nea made her way slowly downstairs and then walked into the kitchen. Gregor sat there with a steaming cup of potion in front of him and a militant glare in his eye. Hilda had two bright spots on her cheeks and her lips were firmly pressed together, as if she was biting back some vitriolic comeback.

  ‘There you are. About time you were up and about. Hilda here has taken over the place.’

  Nea groped for a chair and slid into it. Despite the potions, she wasn’t her old self yet.

  Hilda sniffed and started pouring a mug of potion. When the older woman handed it to her, Nea took it gratefully. ‘Thank you.’ Nea sipped it, hating the taste but knowing it was working to help her. Gregor slanted the older witch a snarling look and the air crackled with tension. Had they been fighting?

  She frowned at Gregor, who was almost strangling his mug.

  ‘Hilda is helping us. Be nice.’

  Gregor harrumphed and took a large mouthful of brew. He didn’t screw up his face as Nea did. He was made of sterner stuff. He lifted his head and directed his bright blue gaze at Nea. ‘So what happened to you to get you into such a state?’ he asked, his stare making her squirm. Nea’s gaze flicked to Hilda. She supposed she couldn’t exclude the woman. ‘It wasn’t Drew, was it?’

  ‘No,’ Nea replied immediately, aghast at the thought. ‘It wasn’t him.’

  ‘Thank the Goddess for that then.’ Gregor’s shoulders slumped. The relief that Drew hadn’t attacked her undermined his defences and she was able to sneak a light read of him. He wasn’t as healed as he made out.

  Hilda let out a sigh. ‘Drew Penderton? I know what you did, old man. You’re a silly old warlock taking on Drew Penderton without back-up.’

  Gregor’s eyes flashed as he rounded on his second-in-command, but he had little of his normal power. In a defeated tone, he said, ‘It’s not your concern.’

  ‘If it’s not my concern why am I here looking after you, hey? Besides, I’m more concerned about Nea. I’d also like to know how she was drained nearly to death.’

  Gregor’s white eyebrows drew together. ‘She’s right, Nea. If it wasn’t Drew, what happened to you?’ His expression showed he expected no nonsense. ‘Spill.’

  Nea took another sip of her brew while she ordered her thoughts ‘Recently, I met someone. Just a guy I thought, but then …’ She paused to swallow another sip of potion. ‘Well, the night before last he was in my room. He can get through the wards, by the way. Ours at least. But he wasn’t really in my room. Or maybe he was …’

  ‘What do you mean wasn’t really in your room?’ Gregor thundered at her.

  ‘He’s a warlock but he’s … not … not alive.’

  Gregor sat back. ‘You’re dating a ghost warlock?’ His mouth opened and shut but no words came out.

  Hilda pulled her chair closer and peered into Nea’s face. ‘He? You’re sure it’s a he?’

  ‘Yes,’ Nea shot that off to Hilda before Gregor exploded with wrath.

  Gregor’s hand gripped the table. ‘It got through my wards?’ he near bellowed.

  Nea nodded, squinting at her grandfather, trying to gauge his level of rage. ‘He’s not alive so he can slip through our defences. But he doesn’t mean any harm. For some reason, he wants to protect me.’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘At least, I think he’s not alive. He’s not dead. Yet he’s not quite a ghost either. He has talent. He can conjure. I was able to talk to him face to face in a setting he devised.’

  ‘What was the nature of the “visitation” you had before you woke drained?’ Gregor’s expression was stormy, his snowy eyebrows like clouds obscuring his blue eyes.

  Nea swallowed and knew her cheeks flushed. She coughed. Her eyes flicked from Gregor to Hilda and back again. She swallowed. ‘Highly sexual,’ she said in a strained voice. Then she coughed again and lifted her chin. She’d done nothing to be ashamed of. Even old people had sex, didn’t they? ‘More adventurous than I could even imagine.’

  Hilda nodded, her dark eyes assessing. ‘Did he drink from you?’

  Nea coughed into her hand, not able to mistake the other woman’s meaning. ‘I think so.’

  ‘From where?’ Hilda’s dark eyes missed nothing.

  Nea couldn’t stop her cheeks from burning as her gaze met the older witch’s. She put her cup down, sliding it across the table top. ‘I’d rather not say, exactly.’ She couldn’t look at her grandfather.

  After letting out a growl of frustration, Gregor said, ‘Don’t be shy about it. I’ve been around the block a few times.’

  ‘I don’t care, Grandpa. I can’t talk about it with you.’

  ‘Don’t call me that. I’m head of the coven; you have to tell me.’ When she didn’t open her mouth, he sat back, clearly surprised. ‘Nea?’

  Nea smacked her hand down on the table. Hilda jumped. ‘You’re my grandfather. I’m not discussing my sexual encounters with you, not even phantom ones.’

  ‘Right.’ Gregor sat back, shrugged, and then targeted the older witch in his sights. ‘So, Hilda, what do you make of this?’

  The older witch chewed her lip. ‘A ghost shouldn’t be able to take energy from the living, so we aren’t dealing with a real ghost, but I’m thinking that whatever did this isn’t quite alive either—not alive as we experience it.’

  ‘A demon then?’

  Hilda shook her head. ‘I checked for that when I got here. No sign of incubus activity.’

  Nea shivered. She’d not thought of that. ‘You can tell?’ she asked, quite amazed that Hilda was wise to the cause of her loss of energy, and that she’d surreptitiously checked her out for fraternising with a demon, and that she was able to look after her without judging her. Her respect for Hilda rose.

  ‘Yes, there are spells that can reveal whether one has been in close consort with a demon. Also—’ She tapped her nose. ‘—I can smell them. Whatever dallied with you it wasn’t a demon.’

  ‘He meant me no harm. I read him. I’m sure of it. He said it was accidental.’

  ‘You’ve met him again?’ Gregor bellowed.

  ‘Only for him to apologise, to tell me it was an accident.’

  Hilda sniffed. ‘Must have been an amazing sexual encounter. He must have sucked from every orifice.’ Her eyebrows lifted, and a small smile caused a dimple in her cheek.

  Nea’s face burned and she covered her face with her hands. Why did Hilda have to say that?

  Gregor cleared his throat and his cheeks grew pink. ‘Err … well then.’ He rubbed his unshaven chin and cast his gaze around the room. ‘I don’t like this at all. Although ruling out a demon is a good start.’

  Hilda touched Gregor’s arm.

  ‘What?’ he responded snappishly.

  ‘I think there is more to it than that …’ She jerked her head in Nea’s direction.

  Both Hilda and Gregor stared at Nea, Gregor’s fingers strumming the table.

  ‘What?’ Nea asked, shifting in her seat and wishing she was elsewhere.

  ‘How do you feel about this phantom, Nea?’ Hilda asked gently.

  Nea’s eyes widened. Damn that witch for being so perceptive.

  Gregor didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Do you mean she’s attached to this creature?’

  ‘He’s not a creature, all right? He’s a man—a warlock.’

  ‘A warlock? Not a member of my coven, I’ll bet!’

  Nea shrugged. ‘I never met him before, but he says he’s from around here.’

  Gregor’s eyes widened and his jaw locked.

  Hilda nodded. ‘Makes sense that he is tied to this place.’

  Gregor sent Hilda a warning glance. ‘Answer the question, Bethanea.’

  ‘I … I don’t know for sure … We have a connection.’

  ‘Do you love this creature?’ Gregor didn’t do much to hide the derision in his voice.

  Nea wanted to run up th
e stairs and away from this discussion. How did she feel about Earl? She closed her eyes, remembering her emotions when he’d laid her head on his chest, how at home she’d felt. The lovemaking was amazing and the things he’d said before that about them being a match? Tears rolled down her cheeks. She shook her head, not sure what she meant to communicate but Gregor could read her heart.

  ‘It’s wrong!’ Gregor near shouted at her.

  ‘It might not be,’ countered Hilda.

  Gregor let out a growl, but the other witch didn’t flinch.

  ‘She cares for him. Knowing Nea, could she love someone bad, with her reading ability and what you know of her?’

  Gregor closed his mouth and shook his head slightly.

  ‘I like him,’ Nea began. ‘I don’t know if I love him … I mean, there’s no hope for a future, is there? He’s not really alive.’

  The tears fell freely now. She was exhausted and emotionally at sea. Hilda stood up and rubbed her back, making soothing noises.

  Gregor picked up his mug and inspected it. He lifted an eyebrow. Hilda sniffed once and took it. She returned with a steaming cup of coffee and plonked it in front of him.

  ‘My granddaughter is in love with a ghost.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s always one in the family. One family member who has to be different, who has to do the unusual.’

  ‘It is not quite right to call him a ghost.’ Hilda shared a look with Gregor before meeting Nea’s gaze again. ‘But there are other states of being—not quite alive, not quite dead.’

  Nea’s eyebrows drew together. ‘Really? Tell me more.’

  Gregor stood up. ‘No, she won’t.’

  Hilda, about to speak, shut her mouth and shot Gregor a nasty look that spoke of hot temper and loud words.

  ‘But …’ Nea said.

  Hilda patted her hand. ‘Later, dear. You know things are never straightforward with the folk. Even animals that live with us take on folk traits. You’ve heard about Elena’s cat, haven’t you?’