Jilo (Witching Savannah #4)(85)



Jilo turned a worried glance to Ginny, who just smiled and shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.” She turned in her seat to keep an eye on the men.

The lights dimmed, plunging the room into utter darkness for a few moments. The band began to play as the lights came back up, and a bright spotlight shone down on the girl singer who had taken her place by the conductor, setting fire to the royal-blue sequin gown she wore. The men in the room went wild at the sight of the exotic beauty. No. Jilo stood and took a few shaky steps toward the bandstand. The singer turned to face the audience, her warm auburn hair newly coiffed to better frame her lovely face. It can’t be. The band began to play, but the catcalls threatened to drown them out. The conductor stopped the music, signaling for the hecklers to quiet themselves. Once they’d settled down, he turned back to the band. Jilo recognized the tune, “I’ve Got It Bad, and That Ain’t Good.” She felt her heart fall to the pit of her stomach. Standing there, in a low-cut flashy grown-woman evening gown, offering up her own sweet voice to the swine in this room, was Jilo’s own little Binah.

Ginny came and stood beside her, taking her hand. The moment they touched, a shriek of feedback on the mic caused many in the audience to throw their hands over their ears. Jilo pulled free of Ginny’s hold. She pushed her way through the crowd that had gathered around the stage, shrugging off Guy’s grasp as she passed, stopping Edwin’s advance with a single look. Sparks shot throughout the room as the overhead spotlight exploded. Shouts and shocked cries filled the space. The conductor turned. “Just an electrical surge, everyone. Nothing to get excited about.”

Paying no attention to anyone, Jilo mounted the steps to the bandstand and laid her hands on her sister’s shoulders. “No,” she said, sliding her hands down to catch hold of Binah’s, “this is not the life for you.” Binah tried to pull back, her pleading eyes not focused on Jilo, but—Jilo felt her blood go cold as she followed Binah’s gaze—on the Taylor boy. Binah opened her mouth to protest, but Jilo dragged the girl down the steps and out of the club.



When a car pulled up to the house, Jilo was almost relieved to hear something other than the sound of Binah’s weeping and Robinson’s howls, which had begun the second Binah slammed into the house. Jilo had never seen her act that way before. It broke her heart to think her little sister, like Guy, had fallen under the Taylors’ sway.

Jilo had sent Willy and Robinson to her room. There was no way Guy was going to be sleeping in there tonight anyway.

She made her way to the window, tugging the curtain just far enough to the side to peek out. It was the Taylor girl’s black Mark II rather than her brother’s flashy red Corvette. Letting the curtain fall back into place, she waited for Guy to come bursting through the door. Well fine. They would have it out tonight. She could put up with a lot, but the sight of her sweet baby sister dressed and painted up like a whore, this she would not, could not bear. Guy was too lazy. Too self-centered to come up with such a scheme. No, it had to be that Taylor boy who’d tempted Binah with music and sparkle, a weakness for which she’d inherited from their mama. Binah was a good girl. She did not belong with these dirty musicians. Dressed up like that, they wouldn’t see her as a girl. They’d see her as woman. And they’d get ideas.

Jilo stood directly before the door, her stance wide and her hands on her hips. She was surprised by a light knock on the door. Then another. She crossed to the door and cracked it open. She hadn’t thought to turn on the porch light earlier, so her visitor stood in shadows, only a thin bar of light landing on her. Ginny stood there alone. Jilo opened the door wide.

“I know what you’re thinking. I do,” Ginny said, “but I don’t plan on forcing my way in, and I’m not here to convince you you’ve overreacted.” It surprised Jilo to realize that these were her actual thoughts, though they hadn’t yet surfaced in her conscious mind. “But I’m here to do neither.” Her voice dropped. “I’ve come to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?”

Ginny lowered her eyes, looking ashamed. “About my brother, for one thing. He’s my brother, and I love him.” Her gaze rose back to meet Jilo’s. “I hope he will grow into a good man, but he isn’t quite that man yet.” She reached through the door and took Jilo’s hand. “Your sister, she’s lovely. She has a light that shines from within. She’s precious, and you need to protect her from . . .”

“From your brother,” Jilo said, and Ginny nodded.

“Edwin, he’s fascinated by her. Infatuated with her. He won’t intend to, but he will take her and destroy the light that’s in her. You can’t let him.”

Jilo grasped Ginny’s hand tighter. “Can’t you do anything to discourage him?”

Ginny shook her head. “Not my brother. Once he’s set his heart on possessing . . .” She paused. “And yes, it shames me, but that is the right word, he won’t give up. What I can do is try to find someone shinier, someone less innocent, to draw away his attention. But it’s up to you to show your sister that a man like Edwin is not the man for her. That’s not the only reason I’m here, though. Your sister, she isn’t my main concern. You are.”

Jilo shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t you?” Ginny said, looking her up and down. “I felt you draw on my power.”

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