NINETEEN
TARA
Tara hadn’t joined her circle of friends, either, who still stood in the front yard talking about the missing gargoyle statue. They stood there, like that, staring at the empty place on the lawn where he’d sat—like maybe watching that spot would cause him to suddenly magically reappear.
Tara only half watched them. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t mind the image of that delicious, winged man was the stone Gargoyle—or maybe something else bothered her more.
Something that seemed a lot more important than the Gargoyle. At least, at the moment….
She kept glancing back at the mansion, looming in the distance in the darkening shadows—waiting for Sophia. She watched Kira, sitting on the porch swing, waiting for her mama to come back out. When Sophia still didn’t appear, Tara went to sit beside the child.
Kira climbed into her lap, and she hugged the child to her as she pushed off in the swing, till it made a gentle rocking motion she found soothing.
Kira giggled, saying, “More.”
Tara smiled and pushed off in the swing again. After a while, it dawned on her Sophia still hadn’t shown up.
What kept her?
Tara watched her friends for a few more minutes, sitting there, cradling Kira as she waited. When she saw Sophia finally appear, she didn’t come from the house—she headed toward her from across the yard—with some guy hot on her tail. Now, where had he come from?
What he said, brought her up short. It had the same effect on Sophia. As soon as he dropped that bomb, he turned and walked back across the yard, Tara noticed, careful to avoid Claire seeing him. This time, he headed for the street.
Tara patted the empty seat beside her, as Sophia spun around and headed toward her. She looked pale. What he’d said must have scared her, Tara thought. It scared her too—more than she’d like to admit, given their circumstances.
“How would he know anything about that?” Tara asked her.
Sophia shook her head. “I don’t have any clue, but we now have one more person to keep an eye on. Isn’t that wonderful?” she said, her voice laden with sarcasm.
“Wait till Claire finds out that she maybe she dated a warlock,” Tara commented.
“Yeah,” Sophia said, “and not just for a short time—but for years. That will cause some trust issues,” she said, frowning.
Sophia pulled a face, then chuckled as she came over to sit down, taking her sleepy daughter into her arms. They sat there for a few quiet moments, watching the rest of their friends out on the lawn, enjoying the autumn breeze despite the chill Collin’s presence had thrown over the evening.
His return didn’t spell anything good for Claire. But now that Dante knew about their magick, well his knowing said more than they cared admit.
After a moment, Tara eyed Sophia. “You don’t seem curious about the missing statue,” she said.
Sophia shook her head. “I’m not into that anymore.”
Tara’s brows shot up. “Really? Because I seem to remember something about that day when we were children—now—with this revelation of who he might be….”
Did Sophia flinch?
She noticed Sophia didn’t take her gaze off the group. She knew her friend well enough to know she tried, hard, to appear uninterested.
“You weren’t scared of him that night,” Tara said.
Sophia did look at her now.
“And I don’t remember you being with us when we ran screaming to our parents,” Tara continued.
Sophia grimaced, and she appeared to try to hide behind her daughter’s golden curls as she continued to hold her in her embrace, but she still didn’t answer her.
“Did you stay?” Tara asked bluntly.
Sophia finally met her gaze. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
She didn’t miss the warning note in Sophia’s tone. A tone she’d never heard from her before. Though it surprised her, she wasn’t put off by at it. Not in the least.
Sophia was the most loving person Tara knew.
She’d respect her need for privacy—for now. But she wouldn’t give up.
After a somewhat, awkward moment, Sophia got up, holding her, now, sleeping daughter cradled in her arms. “I’m going to put her back to bed,” she said. Then, she quickly scurried off before Tara could think of anything else to say.
She didn’t know what to make of it. She’d had her suspicions, but that didn’t explain Sophia’s knowledge of the thing that had scared them that night. And it sure didn’t explain her behavior, now. What could she possibly be hiding?
Tara got up from the swing, sending it rocking gently in the wind. She walked to the edge of the porch and gazed out at her friends. Even though it had been a couple of hours now, they still seemed pretty animated, trying to work out how a man could shape-shift into that stone statue—thinking if they waited long enough—he’d reappear.
She watched as Morgan turned, and seeing her standing there, started heading towards her. It didn’t take but a moment before the others followed her back to the porch, where Tara stood. Alex noticed and followed her over.
Morgan took her vacated spot on the swing, and Alex sat down beside her. The twins said they were going to look around, see if they could find anything to show where the statue had gone.
Morgan shook her head, and Alex chuckled.
“They’re not quite that ready for that notion,” he said.
Morgan gave him a sad smile.
Tara turned her back on the banister, so she could scoot up and sit on the wide, flat base that served as its railing, as she watched Morgan. She seemed to come to have come to terms with the idea that the beast might be the same one they’d seen that night, as kids.
She glanced up, as Claire came to sit beside her.
“This has been quite the homecoming,” Claire said. “It would seem, we’re in for all sorts of revelations.”
Tara nodded. “If my own Grams is right, we’re in for a lot more than that.”
Claire nodded. “So, what exactly did she tell you again?” she asked.
Tara bit down on her lip, eyeing Claire. “She said she hadn’t wanted to keep us in the dark—that she’d felt we would need our training—to protect ourselves.” Tara took a deep breath and let it out. “She didn’t think pretending he didn’t exist—would make him go away.”
“Sounds like your Grams was smart,” Claire said.
Tara eyed her, swinging her legs around so that they dangled off the other side of the railing. Claire spun around to match her.
Tara gazed up at her again. “So was yours. So why were they listening to the coven members, who didn’t even have any kids to save?”
Claire leaned over to stare at her. “What did you say?”
Tara had looked down at the bushes below but now glanced up at Claire in surprise. “I said—my Grams didn’t think that pretending he didn’t exist would make him go away.”
“No,” Claire said, jerking her hand in her agitation. “Not that! The other part.”
Tara thought for a second. “I said—so why were they listening to the coven members, who didn’t even have any kids to protect.”
Claire jerked forward and grabbed Tara, placing both of her hands on either side of her head. “Tara, you’re a genius.”
Tara gawked back at her in complete confusion, her eyes wide. “I am?”
Claire giggled. “Yes! You surely are!” Letting go of Tara, she swung her legs around and took off into the manor.
Tara stared after her—more confused than ever. She gazed off across the yard, biting her lip and trying to remember what they’d said—trying to figure out what had gotten into Claire.
What did Claire think she’d just revealed? After several moments, trying to puzzle it out, she shrugged and gave up. She didn’t know. But she was determined to find out.
She turned, glancing in the direction Claire had disappeared. She hadn’t told her about Collin. She supposed Claire had been dealing
with enough bad news of late.
If what he’d said meant anything—he’d followed her from several states away, to wherever she’d been living, before she’d come back home now. That couldn’t be a good sign. And, now, he’d followed her back here. And—that, too, couldn’t be a good sign, either.
Tara didn’t know if that should be romantic—or a warning. But she had the impression Sophia thought it a sign. Perhaps, she should nose around and try to figure out what Sophia knew about him before she decided to give Claire more bad news.
If Sophia’s instincts were right, Dante had been setting them up for a long, long time—and the stakes had significantly risen. Their enemy had planned a war. He’d moved all his pawns into place. And if this were a game of chess, Tara realized, then his next move would be to capture their queen.
Tara’s gaze lifted to stare at her friends.
She sucked in her breath at this thought—but if all that were true—just what—or who—did he consider to be the queen—and how did he intend to make his capture?
And who had he planted—to look like a friend?