A Little Wicked (The Bewitching Hour Book #4)(3)

Sam sighed as she walked back to her car. She could do this. One day at a time. After all that had gone down with Heather and Claudia, things had to start getting easier, right?





Garrett glanced through the crack left open in the door to where Abigail stared at herself in the mirror. She had been staring at herself for two hours straight now, and in a long line of creepy shit he’d seen his boss do, this was raising the bar.

He knocked on the door softly, but she didn’t jump or startle. The only signal that she heard him at all was that she blinked, something she hadn’t been doing at all.

“I wanted to let you know that Sam is coming over.” He hoped to shock her out of whatever trance she seemed to be in.

But she didn’t move. Just kept staring at herself in the mirror endlessly. Garrett was about to give up and back away when she called to him. “I need your help.”

He had known Abigail Harris for almost thirty years now, and he never once hesitated to come to her when she called. Until now. For a brief moment, he debated just getting the hell out of there and going for the door, but he reminded himself of the loss she’d just suffered and that she didn’t have to be acting normal right now.

Garrett pushed the door open and took a step into his boss’s oversized bedroom. He’d been here before, but never alone with her. To be fair, he wasn’t picking up any sexual vibes from Abigail, but he still knew something wasn’t right. He looked up and down the pastel purple walls and pristine white curtains, trying to determine what was giving him that vibe, but when he saw that Abigail still hadn’t moved, he was certain the only thing wrong in this room was her. “What can I help you with, Ms. Harris?” he asked formally, feeling the need for any type of distance he could get.

“I think I have something in my eye. Can you take a look for me?”

Her eye? That might explain why she’d been staring at herself for so long, but she hadn’t been tugging at an eyelid or rubbing at an ache. Just sitting, unmoving. Get a grip, he ordered himself and approached Abigail. “Sure. Which eye?”

She pivoted on the stool in front of her vanity and pointed to her right eye. “I’ve been looking for hours and can’t get a hold of it.”

Garrett gave her eye a quick once-over. “I don’t see anything.”

“Pfft, you barely looked. Come in closer.”

All the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, but he tamped down the fear and leaned down until her green eyes were just a few inches from him. “I still don’t....” Then the white of her eye seemed to swirl until it was taken over by a black abyss. He started to jump back, but her hand shot out and her nails bit into the skin at the back of his neck. His hands curled into a fist and he called his magic to him, but it was too late. Before he could scream, punch, or anything, he felt his muscles go limp. When he looked back at Abigail, it was as if a stranger were there. Her blonde hair had transformed to an inky black that matched her eyes and the nails on the hand that wasn’t currently stabbing his neck.

And as the pain sunk deeper into his bones, she smiled. “I’m getting better at this.”

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The door opened before Sam could even reach the bell. She frowned but wasn’t surprised. Abigail Harris always ran an efficient household. The surprising part was that there was no one behind the door when she walked in. “Hello?” she called as she stepped into the entryway.

The Harris estate was lavish. When she was a kid, places like this would feel homey, but ever since her self-imposed exile, walking into the echoing marble-filled entryway was a reminder of how much she didn’t belong.

Was that true now? Everything that had led to her leaving home—the sporadic bursts of power, the fire that had taken so many innocent lives—everything could be traced to the fact that Jackson had been sucking her power away like a leech. Now that he was gone and she was getting a steady flow of energy from her, um, time with Derek, she was getting stronger and stronger by the day.

Out of habit, she didn’t use her magic all that often, but she could tell she was regaining more control. Maybe she should find somewhere secluded and private to put that theory to the test....

Garrett appeared at the head of the stairs that flowed down to the entryway and stared down at her. He was stiff and strangely silent as he took her in.

“No hello?” she asked.

There was a second too long of quiet before he finally said, “Sorry. I’m distracted. Hello.”

She tilted her head as she tried to figure out whether she was missing anything. “Are you okay?” She approached the stairs.

“Everything’s fine.”

That was it. No casual joke. Not even the smiles she was used to seeing from her mother’s head of security. Maybe he was just extra somber because of everything that had been going on.... “Is Mom okay? You said she was acting weird in your text.”

“I was mistaken. Everything is okay.”

Well, this isn’t good. Sam carefully climbed the stairs, and Garrett’s gaze followed her every move. He didn’t seem all that threatening, but Sam was a hundred percent sure something wasn’t right, which made her want to get to her mother even more. “I’m just going to go check on Abigail,” she said carefully as she started to walk by him.