Page 26 of Owen

Please. I need to see him again. He might help me understand things.

Barely a moment later, the lock clicked again.

My heart jumped, then clenched. What did this mean? Were they coming for me? Was this the end? I didn’t want to believe it, though I hoped at the same time that if this was indeed the end of my life, they would at least make it quick.

I hadn’t really done anything wrong. I didn’t deserve this.

The door opened. I strained my eyes, trying to see who was coming in. I could just barely see out of the very corner.

And what I saw sent relief flooding through me—that, and the sense that I was in control of myself again. Like I had been frozen in ice which suddenly thawed to nothing and left me able to move again.

“Oh, thank God,” I whispered, pushing myself up on the bed while Owen rushed over.

“You’re all right, lass?” he asked, looking me over as he sat down.

“Define all right,” I whispered, flexing my arms and fingers, turning my head from side to side. “Please, don’t let them do that to me again. I don’t think I could take it. Has anyone ever done that to you?”

“Not that I can recall.” He took my face in his hands.

Not something I would’ve expected, but I appreciated it. I didn’t know until he touched me how much I had needed to be touched. Comforted.

“I was worried sick about you.”

“What about you?” I covered his hands with mine. “Are you okay? You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” he grimaced. “I feel like it. I’m worn out, but I’ll live.”

“What is happening?” I whispered. “Are they listening in on us right now?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” He offered a soft smile. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am, lass. I would have spared you this if I could have done so.”

“What is this, though? What aren’t you telling me?”

He took a deep breath. “To begin with, what you carried in your backpack wasn’t as worthless as you were led to believe. In fact, it’s quite precious to a certain group of people.”

“Hecate,” I whispered.

“Yes, for instance,” he nodded. “And her sisters.”

“There are more of her around this place?” I wrapped my arms around myself and shuddered.

He grinned. “She’s one of the good ones, I can assure you. She’s very sorry for having to debilitate you. Perhaps she overreacted a bit, I’ll grant you, but this is a new situation for all of us. She knew not what to do. She only knew she had to do something.”

“Why? Why me? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“She didn’t know that, and I was hardly in a position to speak on your behalf.” He held my hands, rubbing my knuckles with his thumbs. “I wish there was an easy way to explain everything. I wish I had the words.”

“She’s a witch.”

“She is,” he confirmed, not even looking or sounding surprised that I’d blurted it out. Like he was expecting it. Well, he wasn’t stupid, and he knew I wasn’t, either.

“She has other witchy sisters.”

“An interesting turn of phrase.” He chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Yes. She does. And the diadem which your family has possessed all these many centuries belonged to her ancestors. They came to the New World over a thousand years ago, just as in the legends you heard. Those unlike themselves considered them a threat, and wanted their treasure,” he added.

“The diadem,” I whispered.

“Among many other items, aye. Either the curators your father dealt with were unaware of the presence of witches in this area—understandable—or they dismissed the legends as nothing more than the stories told to children at bedtime. I couldn’t say. Or perhaps…” He shrugged.

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