A Witch-ish Guide to Protectors and Pendulums (Lilith and Co. #1)

Chapter 12

Chapter

Twelve

“ E at more of the cake before you leave,” Ainsling said. “It will help to recharge you.”

Once Connor heard that he immediately spun to grab my only partially eaten butter cake, dropping that and the regular, old lemon ginger tea onto the table next to my chair.

“Eat,” he ordered.

I picked up the cake, taking a huge, overly exaggerated bite to make him feel better, but also to get him to see he was being a bit pushy. Yes, I needed a power-up. But I wasn’t dying.

“You must eat, too,” Ainsling ordered Connor. “The road ahead is fraught with danger. To protect yourself and your mate, you must fuel your body.”

He looked about ready to argue, but I raised my eyebrow in challenge. He dropped back down into his seat and proceeded to cram the whole slice of cake into his mouth. I laughed when he started to cough.

“Serves you right for being an idiot,” I said, taking another daintier bite than him.

Once we’d finished with our tea and cakes, I used the bathroom and then I dropped a cloak over myself again. Ainsling gave me a backpack to carry Connor’s clothing in. Although the cakes started to help, we moved faster with Connor in hound form. She opened the door for us. I called up Orkney in my mind and the directions began to flash for me again.

Nobody told me they were located in the Atlantic Ocean off of Scotland. Seriously? The scenery flew by in a blur. Despite how fast Connor ran, it took us way longer to reach the ocean off of Scotland than it had for us to reach Cork from Kerry.

Once we made it to the shore, and after we made sure no one was around to see us, I dropped the cloak and Connor shifted back to man. He dressed quickly because neither of us wanted to waste time with me keeping him out of jail on exposure charges.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked.

“A little tired.”

“Can you get us to the island or do we need to find other transportation?”

“I think I can get us onto the island.”

“You think , Simone? I’ll find us a boat.”

“No.” I threw out my hand to stop him. “I can. I can get us there. Trust me, babe. I can do this.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re going to be the death of me.” Like I hadn’t heard that before. We could consider it Connor’s mantra by this point in our not-so-long relationship. The universe had a sense of humor, that was for sure.

“Nah. I have too many plans for you later on. But I need you to hold on to me—as tightly as you can.”

As asked, he stepped behind me, pressing our bodies together as he wrapped his arms around my waist. He moved my hair off my shoulder with his chin and rested it there.

“Ready, baby,” he whispered. I closed my eyes, chanting the words over and over in my head. Knap of Howar, Orkney. With Connor holding on tight, we moved from the pebbly beach on Scottish soil to standing in tall, lush green grass surrounding two stone dwellings without roofs. They looked thousands of years old. Neolithic.

The wind picked up when we stepped inside, a sudden rain event pelting us, and I had to wonder if the site felt our power and was trying to keep us out.

“Now what?” Connor asked.

Because I didn’t know where to speak the words, I stood in the center of the room of the larger dwelling and spoke the words Sirona told me to speak. “ Cuir isteach mar chara. ”

God, I hoped I pronounced that correctly. Did magic give points for trying? I guessed not since nothing appeared to happen, other than Connor and I getting pummeled by the wind and rain. I took in a big breath and tried again. “ Cuir isteach mar chara. ”

“What’s supposed to happen?” he asked.

“A staircase is supposed to open up for us, leading down into the archives.”

“Would it open out here where any mortal could see it?”

That got me thinking. Probably not. I tugged Connor along behind me over to the—the best I gathered, it had once served as a connection like a small hallway between the two dwellings. No mortal would see inside unless standing right by the opening.

I spoke the words one more time. “ Cuir isteach mar chara. ” Then I watched in awe as crumbling rocks dissolved into thin air, revealing an archway with stairs leading down. “Come on. Hold me and stay close,” I ordered my mate. The moment he cleared the archway stepping down onto the first stone step, the entrance closed behind him.

Flames illuminated the steps for each one to come, extinguishing on their own once we’d passed it. Almost a hundred steps down, we entered into a large, stone room that should’ve been wet and dank but felt dry and warm from the purple flame burning in the hearth, which burned smokeless and I assumed fumeless because I smelled nothing.

The room was set up like a library. Shelves and shelves of books. Beyond the books, we found shelves and shelves of scrolls from the time before books.

“Where do we start?” Connor asked.

“I don’t know. Is there a card catalog?” I laughed at my own stupid joke. “If you find one, we need writings on Lilith.”

Apparently, the room heard me because several books moved forward on their shelves to be plucked up by me or Connor. And in the very back of the section of scrolls, three moved from their spots. I walked back to get those while he grabbed the books for me and we walked them over to the table that rested in front of the hearth.

While the books clearly held some importance, I opted to go for the scrolls, opening what I thought to be the oldest first. I didn’t know how I discerned this; the idea just popped into my head, drawing me to it. Carefully, I unrolled the scroll to reveal a form of writing I was sure had been lost to the world for millennia.

The words began to flame blue, lifting from the pages to arrange themselves in midair, dropping back to the page as I read each one. I knew a dead language. Mind blown. But that wasn’t even the best part. As I continued to read, pictures surrounded Connor and me. The exact pictures the words described.

“Adam is a lie, claiming superiority over me and my children. He brings no power to this land. The fertile garden imbued me with all the magic. Magic I have passed on to my children. With his every attempt to lord over us, I find myself more disdainful of the man and my life with him.”

Wow.

That said so much.

I kept on reading. “My children find comfort with me. None with the man. If he does not leave them be, he will pay for his crimes.”

Connor pulled on my sleeve, pointing to one of the pictures of Adam raising his fist to a boy and the woman from my dream—she pushed in between the boy and Adam, taking the blow to herself instead, but as she slowly stood, recovering, the woman punched Adam back. Clearly, he hadn’t seen it coming, taking a couple of steps back to keep from going down, but she moved in, swiping his legs out from underneath him. I watched in horrified fascination as he hit the ground and his head bounced off the hard, packed dirt. She dropped down, pinning him to the spot with her knee to his neck.

“Hear this, Adam,” she says. “Should you raise another fist to my children, it will be the last thing I ever allow you to do.”

“Connor—that’s her,” I whisper-shrieked.

“Who?”

“The woman from my dream. The one who talked to me. That’s her.”

“It couldn’t be her. That’s Lilith.”

“Duh. I get that. And I also know I talked with her.”

Believe me or not, I didn’t care. I had to see what happened next. We moved further down the scroll, but it seemed to be about how hostilities had grown between Lilith and Adam, yet he never made another attempt to hurt the children physically. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a verbally abusive asshole. The pictures showed more than I wanted to see. It physically hurt me to witness those poor children wounded by someone who should have loved them and protected them.

I opened the next scroll.

“He proved himself too much of a coward to raise a hand to the children again. Rather, he berated and belittled them. Innocent children. This was no haven for them, living with this monster. Having had enough, I stole away with them, leaving him to wither alone without my magic to keep the bounty of the gardens flowering lushly.

“As the children grow, they flourish. I met another, a man who calls himself Zohor. He is light. He is love. He teaches the children. Gives them guidance. We walk side by side, hand in hand. I consider him my equal as he considers me his. I gift him my love. We create more beautiful children together. I choose this life with Zohor over any time spent in my garden.”

“Wait.” Connor turned to me confused. “I thought Lilith had an affair with Satan.”

“It doesn’t appear so. She sounds happy.”

“This is playing out like a soap opera.”

“My garden is no more,” she wrote. “Adam, he ruined it, blaming it on the poor one who replaced me. He remains bitter and hateful. I have learned he has besmirched my name, telling lies by shifting the blame onto me as well. This poor woman, I know with whom she lives. But I cannot decide if I should help her escape as clearly, she holds none of the power bestowed upon me in the magic garden.”

Connor leaned into me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “What was that for?” I asked.

“I was just thinking it’s no wonder so many human men are dicks if everyone can be linked back to him.”

“Where do supers originate from then?”

“Well, clearly, other people lived close by if she found a new man. Just not in her garden.”

“Oh, it sounds like he lived quite a bit of life in her garden,” I quipped back.

He laughed, kissing me again, this time on my lips.

“Do you think he was given life from the mud the same as Adam and Lilith?” I asked.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t mud from the garden if he was. I mean, aside from being good and kind, he seems completely human.”

It was my turn to laugh, punching him in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“What? You know it’s the truth. Supers are far more accepting than humans.”

Okay, I had to give him that.

We moved on to read more.

“My children have continued to grow strong in heart and strong in magic. But as we remain isolated and my two oldest children have come of age, Zohor agreed to stay behind with the younger ones while the three of us travel to seek out acceptable mates for them.

We have been in the city two nights when we come face to face with a woman, eye blackened. I hug her, this stranger, then press my palm to the injury to remove it. She begins to cry in my arms. As I am holding her, I am met with a voice I never wished to hear again. ‘She belongs to me. Take your hands from her.’

My children move to stand next to me as I turn.

‘She does not belong to you.’

His mouth drops open in shock.

‘Hello, Adam.’

‘Is that the girl?’ he asks. ‘She’ll fetch a good price.’

‘She is none of your concern. Come near and die.’

The woman with us whimpers. He orders her back over to him. I offer my protection, but knowing not of me, she thinks me simply a woman the same as she, unable to protect her or myself from his fist. He flies into a rage upon her approach, striking her repeatedly. I raise my hand, using the wind to pummel him until my son stops me as a crowd begins to gather.

We find men and women whom we believe would suit, bringing them back to our land. There, we put Adam out of our minds while the men court my daughter and my son courts the women to find which one would suit the best. They are welcome to stay, should they not be chosen. I have younger children who will soon come of age and they are free to court one another as well.

As the days move by, I teach all the uses of magic. My children hold more magic than those not of my blood. My oldest two hold the most magic of all my offspring as they came into the world in my garden. But as Zohor holds a form of magic of his own, a magic not bestowed unto Adam, not as powerful as mine, but magic nonetheless, all my children have gifts above others.

I have started a grimoire with which they are to study.

My son has made his match. She is lovely.”

I stand to stretch. “This is getting intense.”

“Is it bad that I want to bang you against this table right now?”

“ Connor! ”

“What? All this talk of magic is turning me on.”

“Sorry, bud. Not the time for slap and tickle.”

“Simone, baby, it’s almost always the time for slap and tickle.”

“I could use something to eat, though. I’m starved. How long have we been here?”

He pulled out my phone from the backpack. “Uh… hours .” Then he stood to stretch as well.

“I don’t suppose we could get a meatball hoagie around here?”

“Baby,” he sighed. “We get home, I’ll buy you a hundred meatball hoagies.”

“One footlong will suffice.”

As we stood there talking about food, the strangest thing happened. A pot appeared bubbling away over the fire in the hearth. Freshly baked bread, bowls, spoons, and tumblers of wine materialized at the edge of the table away from where we had the scrolls and books piled.

“You do this?” he asked.

I shook my head. “But it’s good to know witches.”