That possibility hadn’t occurred to her.
Harrison nodded, confirming her worst fears. “Only one. Now the inability to destroy the spell makes more sense. I have only bound the book, Sarah. It was all I could accomplish. It won’t break, no matter what I do to it, but I’ve managed to put it on pause for the time being. I need all the components to even have a chance to break its hold on you. That means there’s another. There has to be.”
“Fuck.” Con swore beside her, and Sarah could not help but agree. Not only was there another book out there somewhere, waiting to pull her back in—but now she knew her time here was only temporary. They hadn’t broken the spell.
No matter how powerful Harrison was, it had taken a room full of witches to cast her into that curse. She couldn’t keep it at bay all by herself.
Sarah had always known her time here would be short, but she’d wanted to leave this world fighting. To avenge those lost. And since her arrival she’d added something else to her list. She’d wanted to know what it was like, just once, to be a part of her triad. Something she’d never dared imagine before.
She couldn’t go back.
As her mind raced, Tucker chimed in, “Miss Blackwood, there has to be a reason why there is no record of the history you’re describing. If you name the others involved with this Aaron Winston, perhaps their families have kept a private record? Or have some evidence hidden away that might help us locate the second book.”
She closed her eyes, focusing on breathing. “Of course. But I’d like to be released first please. I wish not to be confined.”
Tyghe waved his hands and her arms lifted in a stretch, allowing the panicked feeling to subside. “Thank you. The names of the people in the room when I was punished are Aaron Winston and his brother Thaddeus. Alexandria, Elijah and James Gryffin. Also, Robert Abbott and that wretched woman who hated my grandmother, Hester Maris.”
The room fell silent and Sarah opened her eyes. “What is it?” She felt a nervous laugh bubbling in her throat. “Please tell me none of you are the descendents of Hester. Fate could not be that cruel.”
Lorie stood, pulling her into his arms as if he’d done it a million times. He smiled, but his eyes were full of regret. “No, sweet Sarah. We aren’t related to Hester.” He spoke over his shoulder without releasing her. “Tucker, you have your information. Callie? You and Tyghe will look through those boxes, scour the old Fairbanks homestead if you have to, but find that brooch for Sarah.”
A sound of surprise came from Harrison. “Look who stopped being shy. Okay, boss man, what do I do?”
Lorie wasn’t laughing. “You keep working on a way to break that spell when we find book number two.”
“And what are we doing?” Sarah sensed the undercurrents, but she wasn’t entirely sure what they meant. They obviously knew something they didn’t want her to discover, but what? The location of the people she’d threatened? Were they trying to protect them from her? Her suspicion should have sent her out of his arms, but she wasn’t moving.
She almost heard her grandmother’s voice in her head, asking if Sarah could blame them after what she’d revealed her plans. She couldn’t. And right now, in Lorie’s embrace, her treacherous body didn’t care.
Lorie shared a look with Con before answering. “We’re going on a treasure hunt, Sarah Blackwood. And you are my key.”
Chapter Four
Magic was all around her, though not the kind that Magians usually understood. This was human magic. And it was astounding to behold.
Lorie and Con had decided against using traveling spells. Instead, they had indulged Sarah’s desire to see the modern era. They’d rented a motorized vehicle they called an SUV and taken her to lunch at a roadside diner filled with a fascinating mix of people and food, all of which she thoroughly enjoyed. Especially the desserts.
It was a whole new world. In more ways than she’d ever imagined. While they drove, they shared what they knew of the history she’d missed. The vastness of the small group of colonies which had become a powerful civilization that seemed to rival Rome itself. As impossible as it sounded, she couldn’t deny the proof before her eyes.
Everything was different. There was noise and music. Shouting and laughter. Life, colorful and astounding, bloomed all around her. Chaos—but a wonderful and welcome chaos.
The kind where not one single person she saw was screaming, “Death to the witch!”
It was only when they drove out of the city, leaving the glass and metal skyscrapers climbing high into the clouds, and headed into the countryside, that she began to recognize where she was. Home.