Wicked Bad (WIcked 3)(20)

She started to turn and her mother threw up a hand, sending a wave of ice toward the girl. Harrison opened her mouth to warn Leah, but the young girl was fast. She blinked and Leah was surrounded by flames, the ice melting, puddling harmlessly at her feet.

“Nice try, Mom. And you wonder why I lock my door at night.”

Her mother chuckled breathlessly. “I’m sorry, dearest. I lost my head for a moment. My nerves are a bit frazzled.” She looked down and swore. “And now my tea is cold.”

It was more than cold—the cup was frozen. Frozen. The chill in the air, the ice, it all hit Harrison with a blast of clarity that had her uncloaking on instinct and stepping into the dining room. This was why Jacob hadn’t been worried about who was after her. He’d known exactly who it was. “You. It was you that night.”

The person who’d been attacking her was Jacob’s mother. “Why? If you wanted your son to be my match why would you try and kill me?”

Jacob’s mother dropped her cup and nearly toppled out of her chair in an effort to get to her feet. “Miss Abbott! I didn’t expect to see you so soon. I should have known. Such a powerful pairing must be hard to resist. I told myself, Esther Gryffin, that girl will never be able to resist…” Her smile wavered, as she seemed to register what Harrison had said. “Kill you, dear? Whatever are you talking about?”

Harrison felt her magic pulsing inside her, building, heating her blood at the woman’s audacity. “The other night, before I was brought here against my will, I was attacked. By someone hidden. Someone who knew where I was. Someone with the power to freeze.”

Mrs. Gryffin paled, swallowing audibly. “I don’t like what you’re insinuating, child. Certainly there are others with this ability. People who are not about to be members of your family, perhaps.”

Harrison sneered. “You are not my family. Nor will you ever be once I tell my brother, the protector, what you tried to do.”

“Cold hearted. I’ll show you cold hearted.”

Harrison flinched, and all three women looked over toward the woman at the table. She was rocking back and forth in agitation, her eyes staring, unfocused, at Harrison. “Cold hearted. He called us cold hearted.”

Leah stepped forward. “She’s talking. Sara? Are you all right?”

“Leah, stay away from her.”

Harrison turned. Jacob was up. Leaning as though exhausted against the doorframe, but up. She should have left while she had the chance, but she couldn’t deny she was glad to see him.

Had she been wrong? It wasn’t his mother, but his sister who had attacked her. Why hadn’t he told her? And why on earth had he brought her here without any magic to protect herself?

She turned back to Sara, who was standing now, and not looking so good. “Can’t let him call us cold hearted, Mama. I’ll show him cold hearted.” Sara tilted her head at Harrison, narrowing her bottomless black gaze. “You.”

“Damn it, Harrison, back away. Leah, if you won’t run, protect yourself. Now.” Jacob’s words sent Leah back up in flames, the flickering fire lifting her hair like a blazing wind.

Harrison took a step back. Sara followed. She could see a small creature moving from the corner of her eye and with an instinct born of their connection she knew it was Ric. They had something planned.

She just needed to be a distraction. And damn it, she needed answers. “Who, Sara? Who called you that? Who is he?”

Small icicles had formed along the strands of hair framing Sara’s face, giving her a sparkling visage that made her more hauntingly beautiful than she’d been moments before. Made her look alive. “Mama says I’m a good girl. Says I’m not cold.”

“You’re not, Sara. It wasn’t your fault. Sweetheart, stop this now before you get hurt.” Tears were pouring down Esther Gryffin’s cheeks, and Harrison felt a knot in the pit of her stomach.

“No, it wasn’t, love. It was mine. You know that. Everyone knows that.” The warmth and kindness in Jacob’s voice as he edged closer to his sister melted Harrison’s heart. It was obvious this girl was sick, and just as obvious that he loved her.

Sara shook her head wildly, the ice forming on her body crashing to the frosty tile at her feet. “No, no, no. Not yours. Not your fault. He said we were cold hearted. Said Mama was an ice queen. Hated us.” She wavered, holding the back of a chair for balance, the wood instantly cracking and bending with the magic coming off her in frigid waves.

She wasn’t sure how she knew, but, as if by magic, she did. Esther began to ramble as Jacob got closer, confirming her suspicions.