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When suspicion had fallen on Warrick’s parents, they’d left town. Then, in a brutal car accident, they died – leaving Brogan and Warrick as orphans, and taking the truth of the fire to the grave.
It hadn’t been long before the two brothers had made it clear that they shared the same views as their parents and would do anything, hurt anyone, in order to have the freedom and control their parents had fought for.
Like hell.
She would die before she handed over her Grimoire.
“I don’t have it,” she said firmly, shoving away the anger and resentment stewing inside.
“But you know where it is and according to the legend, we need a Beckham witch to open it. Warrick seems to think you’ll also know the location of all four stones.”
“Chasing the book is like chasing a rainbow. You’ll never get close, and you’ll certainly never hit gold.”
“It exists and we’ll not only find it, Sienna, we’ll open it.”
She touched a hand to her pounding head, willing the pain away. The blinding headache only clouded her already murky thoughts. It was hard enough to think clearly with Harper pointing a syringe of Rose Thorn at her. The damn headache had to go.
She knew precisely why Warrick wanted the Grimoire. She was simply surprised he’d taken so long to come for it.
Two years ago, in a desperate attempt to bring an end to the wicked hold the Brogan brothers had on everyone, Sienna and her grandmother had cast a spell. Mason Brogan, the older and bigger evil of the two brothers, was spelled into an abandoned underground church tomb deep inside the forests of their hometown, cursed to live as the dead until ever freed. As for the younger brother, Warrick Brogan, they’d cast a spell on him to diminish his powers, underestimating his evilness.
Warrick had retaliated, killing Sarah Bennett, her fourth Keeper and dearest friend. That night had altered the course of their lives and the reality of Sarah’s death had sent everything reeling out of place.
Without his brother or his powers, Warrick had simply vanished.
Until now.
If Warrick ever got his hands on the book and the four stones that were the key to opening it, he’d access the spell binding Mason, and could then unseal the curse.
“Have you found the other stones yet?” Sienna asked, her stomach rolling at the thought.
He grinned, meeting her eyes. “We’re working on it.”
“Even if you find the book, you’ll never be able to open it.”
“They all warned me that I’d never catch a Beckham witch, but here you are.” He kicked at the rope around her ankles. “Bound, weak, useless.” Pleased with himself, he started to chuckle.
“I’ll never help you.”
“You will or people will die. You’re a witch so you’ll never let that happen.” He trailed a calloused finger along her jaw and down to the silver necklace around her neck, his touch light, yet harsh at the same time. “Beautiful necklace.” His fingers clasped around the solid pendant and toyed for a moment before yanking it off her.
“No!” Eyes widened in disbelief as her hands flew to the spot on her neck where the necklace had hung for the last two years.
“A family heirloom?”
His mocking tone stirred the lull inside of her and fury sparked a sudden burst of renewed strength. Sienna pushed at his chest and he stumbled backward. Stronger than her, he recovered with the speed of a demon and pounced.
His slap was brutal. “You’re weak, Sienna. Nothing you do can harm me.”
“I won’t always be weak,” she said, hating that he was right. The effects from the Rose Thorn still ravaged her and until the dreaded herb left her system, she would never be able to fight him off.
“But just to be sure …” he said with a wicked smile and brought the syringe toward her.
She baulked in fear, panic taking its destructive grip. “You can’t!” She tried to back away from him, but stumbled against the couch behind her. “A second dose so soon could be deadly.”
He grinned and closed in on her. “A gamble.”
“No!” she screamed as all three men held her down and injected her with the dreaded herb. The affect was instant and her body went completely limp. She fought for consciousness, tried to claw her way out of the blackness.
And lost.
Much later, she resurfaced long enough to hear the shouting, breaking glass and violence - terrifying sounds that rattled her to the core. She tried to open her eyes, to make sense of the chaos around her, but sleep beckoned.
Then silence fell.
Confusion reigned and she couldn’t move, couldn’t fight back. Alone. She was so alone and at the mercy of these three men.
And out of the darkness, she saw him.
Archer.
“Sienna,” Archer murmured, kneeling beside her. “It’s over.”
“Archer?”
“It’s okay, we’re here. You’re safe now.”
Strong arms drew her in as the blackness engulfed her again.
Her Keepers had found her.
CHAPTER FIVE
BENNETT ESTATE, RAPID FALLS, CANADA
“Archer?” His name, whispered in the darkness, had Archer bolting from the chair in the corner of the bedroom.
“Sienna.” Archer sat on the bed beside her, relief washing over him. A quick study along the length of her reassured him that she was fine. Pale and thin, but she was awake – and safe. She looked lost in the massive bed and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if the bed was ridiculously too big or if she was simply too damn small. “You had us scared to death.”
“Remind me to hunt down every last Rose Thorn tree and destroy it.” She grunted and tried to sit up, blinking to clear the cloudiness. “That herb packs a powerful punch.”
“It’ll take a while for the affects to wear off and for your body to heal.” Archer reached for her, adjusted the pillows. Her arms felt tiny in his hands, almost as though they were silly little branches that could be snapped without any effort at all.
She settled back against the pillows and ran her fingers through her long hair, the colour of fire, in an attempt to tame the wavy curls. “Where am I?”
“We brought you home.” And about time too. The huge mansion nestled on a quiet estate in the hills had never been the same since she’d left. Private, peaceful, surrounded by forests that had frequently been her favourite escape over the years.
Green eyes widened in surprise, and she quickly glanced around the bedroom. “Here? To Rapid falls?”
“It’s the safest place and it’s your home.”
“Was my home.” She covered her face with her hands and released a frustrated groan. “Dammit, Archer. Why did you bring me here? This is the last place I want to be and you know that.”
“That’s a conversation we’ll have when the Rose Thorn is no longer mulling your senses.”
“The Rose Thorn doesn’t change how I feel about this place.”
Her words stung but he kept a straight face. Her determination to stay away surprised him. She really hadn’t wanted them to find her. It annoyed him until he saw the underlying fear in her eyes.
She was scared.
Of coming home? He knew she carried her own demons and coming home meant facing them but did she really think she could run forever?
He of all people knew all about relentless demons. They always caught up in the end.
Sienna massaged her temples and looked at him, the frown that creased her brows softening. “You found me again.”
He dangled the necklace in front of her for a brief second but quickly palmed it when she reached out. “No way, Sienna. The spell you cast on the necklace keeps me from sensing you. Until Warrick’s off your back, it stays with me.”
“Dammit, Archer. Give me my necklace.”
“So that you can disappear again? Hell no.”
Sienna winced at an attempt to settle back into the pillows. Not caring for her reaction, he manoeuvred himself behind her and pulled her into his arms. Surprisingly, despite the tension and uncertainty he sensed in her, she relaxed against him. “I think we’ve already established that you need us, Sienna, and you’re better off here than with Warrick and his bootlickers.”
“He’s gathered some minions?”
“It appears so.”
“They’re after the Grimoire.”
“I know.” His gut clenched at the thought.
“Archer?” Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and chased away all thoughts of the warlock. “Just so you know, I didn’t take off my necklace, they did.”
“Why didn’t you?’
“You would’ve come for me.”
“Of course.” And it had nothing to do with the fact that he was duty bound to protect her. How could he explain that ever since their parents had died in the fire on the estate, that she’d become the very essence of his world? She was his best friend and knew him in a way that few others did. They’d always shared a special connection but the tragedy of losing their parents at such a young age and in such a horrific way had cemented their bond forever. He pressed his face into her hair and inhaled. The action stirred heaps of memories and against his will, his body stirred viciously in response to her.
“Thank you.”
He tipped her head back so that she faced him. “Would this be a bad time to give you grief about running again?”
“Hell yes.”
“Two years, Sienna.”
Two long, frustrating years. Damn her.
“After your sister died, I had to leave. And you let me go, Archer.”
“Had I known you were planning to vanish, that would have been different.”
“I did what I thought was best at the time and I could never bring myself to return. When this is over, I’ll be leaving again.”
The thought brought a fresh bout of unease but he simply nodded, not surprised or even willing to challenge her. “We’ll see. For now, I’ll leave you to rest.” He made a move to go but a gentle palm placed against his chest stopped him.
“Please stay. Just for a minute.”
He toyed with the idea. He had to track down Ethan and devise a plan. A fierce warlock was after their witch and the brothers would stop at nothing to protect her. In order to do that, they needed a game plan.
“Please.”
Her simple plea tugged at the wall he’d erected around himself, a wall developed to keep some distance between them. But resisting her would take an ocean of strength he didn’t have. With a small sigh, he nodded and relaxed against the pillows. “Just for a minute.”
****
Two hours later, Sienna finally stirred. As she swept the cobwebs out of her murky brain, she became vaguely aware of the hard bulge of muscles beneath her cheek.
“Rise and shine, slumber queen.”
The voice had her bolting forward, and she whirled around to face Archer. For a moment, she gaped at him until her mind started piecing everything together and it all came rushing back to her. “You stayed?”
“You asked me to.”
With a quick glance, she took in his neatly cropped brown hair, the dark eyebrows drawn together in a slight frown, and the brooding green eyes coloured with concern. “How’re you feeling?” The tenderness in his voice was a far cry from his piercing war cries when he’d come to her rescue.
“I’ll live.” She sank onto the pillows beside him, embarrassed she’d slept in his arms. Such an intimate act belonged to lovers, not estranged friends. She cast a quick glance around the spacious room, one she’d often occupied. Against the far wall was a massive fireplace that was now a big gaping hole in its emptiness. Come winter, her Keepers kept her fire roaring, a gesture she’d always appreciated in the cold winter nights. Large windows covered with drapes blocked out the late afternoon sunlight that usually streamed across the four-poster bed. Not much had changed since she’d left. The realization that they’d kept the room the way she’d left it, untouched, tugged at something vague and guarded inside.
“Rose was worried sick. She hated the way things ended between you before you left.”
Her grandmother lived in the guesthouse on the Bennett estate. It had been Rose’s home for decades and when Sienna’s parents had died, it had become her home too and she’d loved it. Since fleeing home – fleeing Archer – Sienna hadn’t been back and realized now with a pang of sadness how much she’d missed home. The warmth of her grandmother’s touch, the laughter she’d shared with the three brothers, the massive forest between their homes, and the feeling of … belonging. She’d left in such a rush, confused, and riddled with guilt and anger.
Sienna shifted her gaze to meet Archer’s, realizing how much she’d missed him. “I know, so did I. I need to see her.”
“We didn’t want to wake you, but Rose was here earlier and will be back later.” A scarred hand reached out to stroke the bruise on her cheek, and she inhaled quietly at the reminder. His touch was gentle and warm. Soothing. It surprised her and she shook her head, trying to reconcile the kindness in his eyes with the hatred she’d witnessed there when he’d fought off her attackers in the park.
“Are your brothers here?”
“Only Ethan, and he’s been busting at the balls to see you again.”
“Are they mad?”
“We’re all mad, Sienna, but Ethan won’t rag you about it.”
“And Declan?”
His gaze hardened, and he slowly shook his head. “We haven’t seen Declan since Sarah died.”
“What do you mean you haven’t seen Declan?” The idea of the three brothers having lost contact was absurd – not the brothers she’d once known. They were inseparable, best friends.
“He went off the rails after Sarah died. It was better for him to leave.”
Sienna met his eyes, searching for an explanation of the hidden anger she heard in his voice. “Where is he?”
“No idea.”
“You’re angry with him.”
“Hell, yeah, but I’m mad at you too, yet here you are.” His tone had softened and she sensed he’d done it deliberately, not wanting to discuss his brother. He stood and moved to the window, ripping open the curtains.
Sienna groaned as bright sunlight destroyed the haze around her. “Jeepers, Archer. That’s harsh.”
“You need food. You look like you haven’t eaten for a month.”
“Ouch.”
“Can you stand?” he asked, stepping closer but not touching her.
She nodded and tried to stand but stumbled against him. Strong arms flew out to steady her and gratefully, unashamed, she leaned into him, drawing on his strength. Judging by the rippled muscles and broad shoulders that struggled beneath his grey shirt, the man was all strength. Not that she’d forgotten.
“Damn, I’m such a girl,” she said against his chest. She was a mess and trying to make light of it. After all, weakness was an attribute she despised, an emotion she always resisted. A meek reaction to an unexpected attack was no different.
“Sienna, you were kidnapped, drugged, and bludgeoned,” he said, tipping her head back so she was looking at him. “It’s okay to be upset by what they did to you. You don’t have to hide it from me.”
Of course not. Besides, he’d know if she was hurting. Their bond went far deeper than the magical connection they shared.
“I’m okay. I’m still trying to shake off the Rose Thorn and I’m a little pissed at myself. I should’ve known they’d be back.”
“You made it easy for them. They’re after the book and the four stones. Everyone knows that a Beckham witch is the only one who’s able to use the stones to open the book. Imagine their delight when they discovered you’ve been separated with your Keepers.”
When he said it like that, she felt crazy for ever having contemplated walking alone. “Thank you for helping me.”
“I will always be here for you, Sienna.”
And he would. They all would. Individually, they were powerful in their own unique way. Together, they were ruthless.
Their magical connection was something she’d always treasured until the day she’d used it to almost kill them.
“Sienna,” Archer said softly, his thumb stroking her chin in a gentle movement. His dark eyes were full of an intensity that kept her captive, unable to look away.
Wow, the man was mesmerizing.
Sienna felt something vaguely familiar roll through her, quiet and unsettling, and realized with a harsh intake of breath that it had nothing to do with the Rose Thorn. No, this had everything to do with Archer.
His finger trailed along her jaw, his heated gaze never faltering from hers.
“You’re safe here, Sienna, and you’ll be fine now that you’re back in my bed.”
“You mean my bed.”
His lips twitched with a hint of a smile. “It’s my house so technically, my bed.”
“I was never in your bed, Archer.”
“It was close.”
“But it doesn’t count.”
He edged nearer, his body almost touching hers, heat radiating off him in a way that sent her heart racing. He dipped his head beside hers as his fingers toyed with hers. “Oh,” he breathed against her cheek, “it counts, Sienna. Everything that happened between us counts.”
“No.”
Her whispered denial came out in a breathless whoosh of air. Everything inside her tingled at the intimate act and her racing heart was a dead giveaway to the effect he had on her.
“Your heart is pounding.”
“You can tell that by simply touching my hand?”
“I can hear it.”
Of course. “Archer, stop it.”
His hand slid to her hip, pulling her firmly against him. “Still want to tell me it doesn’t count?” he whispered against her ear.
The closeness of him, his scent, and his touch sent a familiar thrill straight through her. She closed her eyes and quietly exhaled.
He was right. Everything counted. Everything.
Including the fact that he’d never tried to stop her from leaving. Memories of their fight two years ago tumbled back and she shut her eyes to ward them off.
“Sienna?”
Not trusting herself to speak, she merely shook her head and stepped back.
He didn’t push, thank God, and released her. “I have some work to attend to. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’ll find some painkillers on the nightstand beside your bed. That’ll numb any pain for a few hours. I also bought you a new phone. They trashed your old one.”
“Thanks.” She glanced down at the male shirt she wore and slowly closed her eyes. Lovely. “Where are my clothes, Archer?”
“Binned. They were all kidnappy and gross.”
“Do I dare ask who undressed me?”
He didn’t reply but a small smile toyed at the corner of his mouth. God, the man was breathtaking when he smiled.
“You undressed me.”
“It was either me or Ethan,” he replied, catching the pillow she tossed at him. "You’ll find fresh shirts in the drawer.” He nodded at the wooden chest of drawers against the far wall.
“I can’t walk around all day wearing nothing but your damn shirt, Archer.”
He grinned. “This way, you can’t leave the house. For now, you need to lay low.”
She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across her breasts, issuing a sly challenge.
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t even think about it, Sienna.
“I need to see my grandmother. She won’t be very impressed if I arrive on her doorstep wearing nothing but your shirt.”
“You’re not leaving the house. At least not until you’re stronger. Rose will come here.”
So he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. She dragged her fingers through her red mass of untamed hair and sighed. “Fine. I’ll wear your shirts. For now.”
“Good. Ethan will be home later, and we’ll all have dinner.”
She tossed another pillow at him as he walked out the door. “With a bare ass wearing nothing but a damn shirt. How Sharon Stone of me.”
CHAPTER SIX
The silence of the forest was comforting, a brief respite from the crazy turn her life had taken since her attack in the park a few days ago. Sienna knew the path between her grandmother’s cottage and the Bennett estate by heart, a path she’d walked for years. Her feet crunched along the forest debris along the ground, the sound noisy in the silence around her. The smell of pine needles filled the air, triggering old memories of when she’d played in the forest with her Keepers at a time when they’d been nothing more than friends.
And now she was at odds with them all.
Sienna felt the weariness wash over her at the thought and settled her gaze on the stone walled cottage ahead. The sound of water gently trickling nearby hinted that she was close. When she’d been a child, the rocky stream that surrounded Rose’s cottage had often given Sienna the impression that they were on their own island. An island in the middle of a magical forest.
Her heart thudded noisily in her chest when the cottage came into view. A double story cottage with a thatch roof. Rose’s white rose bushes, her pride and joy, edged along the neat wooden picket fence that ran along the front of the house. The chimney that peeped out through the thatch hinted of years of use, black with age. The front door was open, a sign that her grandmother was home. Conflicted with excitement and sadness, Sienna stopped in front of the cottage and simply stared. Sweet Rose with the strawberry blonde hair, kind eyes, and fierce spirit. Sienna knew she shouldn’t blame her for losing control of her powers the night they’d spelled Mason into a tomb. The fault was all hers for channelling them in the first place, but seeing Sarah die in front of her had evoked such devastation that something inside her had snapped. She opened the small wooden gate, the soft creaking of the aching hinges a dead giveaway of her arrival. Rose appeared in the doorway dressed in a long flowing blue skirt and a white blouse. Rose’s hair, several shades lighter than her own, hung loose around her tiny shoulders in a flutter of soft waves.
“Gran?”
Rose’s face brightened at the sight of Sienna, and the older woman rushed down the porch steps to embrace her granddaughter. “I’m so glad you came!”
Sienna didn’t reply but held onto her grandmother for the several moments it took to regain her composure. Holding her again was like gold.
Rose pulled away and gave Sienna’s outfit a quick once over. “Sienna, dear, you starting a new fashion or something?”
“Archer’s afraid I’ll run so he won’t give me any new clothes.”
“So you traipsed through the forests in his shirt and gumboots?”
“It’s not far and no one saw me.” With a wide smile, she pulled her grandmother into her arms again. “I missed you so much.”
Rose wrapped her frail arms around her granddaughter and smiled. “I knew you’d find your way back home.”
“More like home found me.”
“And in the nick of time too.” Rose pulled away to reveal bold green eyes filled with love and wisdom. She grimaced at the fading bruise on Sienna’s cheek. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Archer gave me some painkillers that have taken the edge off the aches and pains.”
“Do you know who did this?”
Sienna followed her grandmother into the kitchen and inhaled the familiar smell of home. Earthy and fresh, with the faint aroma of herbs. Typical of a witch’s kitchen. Some of Sienna’s happiest childhood memories were of her time spent here. “He said his name is Harper.”
“And you couldn’t fry his ass?”
Sienna shook her head and filled the kettle. “Rose Thorn.”
“I’ve had a dose or two of Rose Thorn in my life time,” Rose replied with an all-knowing nod. “Wicked herb. Is he one of Warrick’s minions?”
“Yes. Has Archer filled you in?”
Rose sank into the chair at the kitchen window and sighed. “Of course. I’m glad you’re home, Sienna.”
Sienna offered Rose a warm smile. “It’s good to be back.” Her time away had been fraught with constant worry for her grandmother. Rose had aged, and even though her powers as an ordinary witch were still strong, her body wasn’t.
“You still have some clothes in your old room,” Rose said, giving Sienna’s shirt and gumboots another glance.
“Ah, I could do with some knickers.”