wicked witches 08.6 - a witch in time (2 page)

“I need you to run an errand,” Mom said, averting her gaze. “It’s not a big deal.”

“No way,” Landon said, shaking his head. “It’s bad out there. She’s not driving anywhere. What’s so important you’d ask her to go out in this?” Landon pointed toward the window for emphasis.

“I don’t want her to drive anywhere,” Mom clarified. “I need her to walk down to the greenhouse.”

Now it was my turn to make a face. “It’s raining buckets out there,” I argued. “I’m not walking to the greenhouse. What do you need from the greenhouse? If it’s herbs for dinner, just do without. I’m not risking death by drowning or getting struck by lightning because you need chives for the potatoes.”

Mom’s eyes widened at my diatribe while Landon’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. She wasn’t nearly as amused as he was.

“I don’t need chives,” Mom said.

“Then what do you want me to get?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“I need you to collect Aunt Tillie.”

I frowned. My persnickety great-aunt was known for causing problems, but even she wouldn’t venture outside in something like this. “What do you mean?”

“I mean your great-aunt is in the greenhouse and I need you to get her,” Mom repeated, shooting me a “well, duh” look. “I don’t know how I can clarify things to make them easier for you to understand in this particular situation.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Landon charged, catching my mother off guard. “It’s not her fault Aunt Tillie took off in a storm. It’s not her responsibility to get her either. If you want her so badly, you go and get her.”

Landon generally sucks up to my mother because she keeps him in food – good food, at that – and he knows he’ll starve if left to our own devices. I was surprised he was picking now to challenge my mother since even the option of driving to town to eat at another establishment was seemingly off the table.

My mother’s expression was initially murderous, but then softened. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have spoken to her that way. I’m worried about Aunt Tillie, though. She shouldn’t be out in this. She’s elderly. It could be dangerous.”

That speech would’ve shamed a mortal man, but Landon was superhuman so he merely snorted in reply.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Mom asked, narrowing her eyes.

“That means that Aunt Tillie is perfectly capable of taking care of herself,” Landon replied, unruffled. “Heck, for all we know, she created the storm.”

Landon was aware of our witchy ways. He had mostly managed to wrap his mind around everything, but the fact that Aunt Tillie could control the weather when she put her evil mind to it still baffled him. He was doing remarkably well for a man who didn’t know that magic existed a year and a half earlier, so I cut him some slack. My mother was another story.

“That’s neither here nor there,” Mom said. “Aunt Tillie is still capable of falling. The wind is really going out there, too. What if she gets hit in the head by flying debris?”

“I thought witches liked tornados?” Landon asked, bargaining for time. He obviously wasn’t keen on returning to the storm.

“I’ll get her,” I said, putting him out of his misery. “Why don’t you go upstairs and change your clothes, and I’ll handle Aunt Tillie? I’ll need dry clothes when I get back inside, Mom. Do you think you can handle that?”

“No one needs your lip,” Mom sniffed. “I have something you can wear.”

“It had better not be one of those tracksuits,” I warned, internally shuddering at the memory of the matching tracksuits my mother and aunts pull out for special occasions. And by “special occasions” I mean whenever they want to embarrass the rest of us.

“I believe you have a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt you left here when you were doing laundry a few weeks ago,” Mom countered. “Will that do, your highness?”

“Oh, don’t get snippy with me,” I muttered, blowing out a dramatic sigh and moving toward the rear of the inn. “I’m the one getting soaked because you don’t want to go outside and get Aunt Tillie yourself.”

“I’m not loving the attitude, Bay,” Mom yelled at my back. “Wait … where are you going, Landon?”

I glanced over my shoulder and found Landon trailing me. “You don’t have to come,” I said. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“I’m not letting you go out in this alone,” Landon replied, his tone firm. “We’ll do it together. Then we can change into dry clothes together. It will be the highlight of my day.”

“No funny business under this roof when we have guests,” Mom chided. “You know the rules.”

Landon pretended he didn’t hear her. “My pot roast better be excellent after this,” he said. “The bread better be warm, too.”

“You get bossier and bossier the more you hang around here,” Mom shot back.

“I learned it from all of you,” Landon replied, grabbing my hand. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s see what the wickedest witch in the Midwest is up to.”

BY THE
time Landon and I made it to the greenhouse we were completely soaked through. The slope between the inn and greenhouse was slick, and I slipped twice. Even though I would never admit it to my mother, I was secretly glad she sent me after Aunt Tillie. For a woman in her eighties, my great-aunt was surprisingly spry. If she fell in this, though, the damage might be enough to sideline her for a long while.

I threw open the door to the greenhouse and strode inside, glaring at Aunt Tillie as she worked with a seedling at the far end of the room. She didn’t even bother glancing up.

“Aunt Tillie, we have to go,” I said through gritted teeth, annoyance at her refusal to even acknowledge me grating my insides. “Mom wants you up at the inn. She sent us to get you.”

“I’m good,” Aunt Tillie replied, blasé. “I’m working.”

I glanced at Landon for support. He wasn’t in the mood to put up with anyone’s crap, so he took a more direct approach.

“Get your butt in gear,” Landon ordered. “The storm is picking up and there could be tornadoes. You cannot be in a building made mostly of windows when a tornado is coming.”

“We won’t get hit by a tornado,” Aunt Tillie said. “I would know if that was going to happen.”

“Can you see the future?” Landon challenged. It took him a moment to remember who he was dealing with and he locked gazes with me. “Wait … can she see the future?”

I shook my head. “No one has that gift,” I answered. “Not even her. She’s just posturing.”

“I’m not posturing,” Aunt Tillie argued. “I’ll come up to inn when I’m ready. Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Landon knit his eyebrows and moved toward Aunt Tillie. Neither of us missed the fact that she tried to turn her shoulders and shelter the plant she was potting from prying eyes. That couldn’t be good, especially because Aunt Tillie had a pot field she magically cloaked from law enforcement’s eyes and she’d been expressly forbidden from growing contraband in the greenhouse when it was gifted to her.

“What is that?” Landon asked.

“Chives.”

“They don’t look like any chives I’ve ever seen,” Landon argued. “Bay, are those chives?”

“I … .” I was caught. I couldn’t lie to Landon, but if I squealed on Aunt Tillie things wouldn’t end well.

“That’s all the explanation I need,” Landon said, taking pity on me. “Throw your pot experiment out and let’s go. I’m not messing around with you, Aunt Tillie. This storm is bad and we need to get up to the house now. We can’t wait for things to get worse.”

Aunt Tillie slammed the small pot down on the bench and fixed Landon with a dark look. I knew that look. It meant something horrible was about to happen. “You’re not my boss, Landon,” she said. “I put up with your crap because you make Bay happy and most of the time I find you funny. I’m an adult, though, and as an adult I decide when I’m going inside.”

“Not when Bay’s safety is in jeopardy because her mother sent her out here to get you,” Landon shot back. “Leave your pot plant – yes, I know what that is – and let’s go. We’ll discuss disposal of your little experiment once the storm passes.”

“You can’t touch my stuff,” Aunt Tillie said, her hands landing on her hips. “It’s my property. I’ve got a green thumb and I enjoy growing things. There’s nothing illegal in here. If you don’t watch yourself, though, I’ll turn something of yours green and see how you like that experiment. How does that sound?”

Landon’s face whitened but he otherwise held his ground. “It sounds like we’re going to have a problem.”

Aunt Tillie refused to back down. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Landon opened his mouth, what I’m sure was a hot retort on his lips, when a tree branch flew through the nearby window, causing glass to fly in eighty different directions. I instinctively covered my face and ducked my head. It took me a moment to get my bearings due to the howling wind and pelting rain.

“Bay?”

“I’m okay,” I said, risking a glance at Landon. He looked okay despite the glass he was trying to brush from his hair. I moved closer to him. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Landon said, reaching his finger to my cheek and brushing it over my skin. It hurt a little bit, and when I saw the blood on his fingertip I couldn’t help but groan.

“Great. Now I’m disfigured,” I muttered.

“You’re still the prettiest witch in all the land,” Landon said. “It’s a tiny cut. It will be fine. Are you happy now, Aunt Tillie? We have to go inside. You can’t stay out here now.”

When she didn’t immediately respond, Landon and I turned our attention to the spot where she stood and found it empty. I peered around the corner of the potting bench, expecting to find her crouching behind it. She was prone on the ground, an ugly wound at her temple.

“Landon … .”

“Bay, call 911,” Landon said, his voice eerily calm as he moved to kneel down next to Aunt Tillie. “We need to get her to a hospital right now.”

You can’t fix a man. Sure, they come to you broken, but there’s no way to truly fix them. You just have to slap some duct tape on them and hope they don’t fall apart until you’re done with them.

– Aunt Tillie on dating

Two

^“
I s there any word?”

I was lost in my own world, so when Landon joined me at Aunt Tillie’s bedside in her hospital room an hour later I nearly jumped out of my seat. “No,” I replied, shaking my head. “She’s still unconscious.”

Landon and I were dressed in spare scrubs from the hospital to ward off the chill, but my hands still shook, and I couldn’t hold off the damp cold that seemed to be invading my body.

“Come here, sweetie,” Landon said, reaching under me and lifting me out of the chair so he could sit and hold me on his lap. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m cold,” I admitted, rubbing my hands together.

“I think you’re upset more than anything,” Landon said. “I talked to your mother. She’s leaving dinner for the guests and she’s on her way with everyone else. I tried to talk her into staying at the inn but … well … I’m sure you know how that conversation went.”

“She needs to get to Aunt Tillie,” I supplied.

“Yes,” Landon said, brushing his lips against my cheek. “You’re really cold. Put your hands under my shirt to warm them up.”

I couldn’t help but cock a dubious eyebrow. “Seriously? You want to do that now?”

Landon chuckled, although the sentiment didn’t make it all the way up to his eyes. He was as worried as I was, which was a sobering thought. “You’ll warm up faster if you snuggle with me,” he said. “I’m not trying to get fresh.”

I slipped my hands under his flimsy shirt, causing him to hiss when my frigid digits hit his skin. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Landon said. “You’re really cold, though.” He tightened his arms around me. “What are the doctors saying?”

“They’re running tests,” I answered, my gaze landing on Aunt Tillie. She was frightfully still. “We’re waiting for results. He said she could have a concussion. They’re hopeful she’ll wake on her own.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Landon prodded.

He knew me too well. “The doctor said her age could be a factor,” I said, choking back tears as I tried to stay focused. “He said that odds are she would wake up on her own. He wanted me to be aware that there’s a possibility she might never wake up, though. It’s a waiting game right now.”

“I see,” Landon said, rubbing lazy circles on my shoulders as he situated me into a more comfortable position on his lap. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“Is this the part where you’re going to give me a pep talk?”

“You’re a funny girl, Bay Winchester,” Landon intoned. “This isn’t a pep talk, though. This is reality. I’m a realist.”

“Since when?”

“Since I met you and realized all things are possible,” Landon replied, not missing a beat. “I’ve seen Aunt Tillie do some amazing things. I’ve seen all of you do some amazing things. She’s too cantankerous and mean to go out this way. She’ll live to fight another day, just you wait and see.”

I wanted to believe him. My head told me he was right. Aunt Tillie wasn’t ready to go – so she wouldn’t leave. She’s the only person I know more powerful than death. My heart was another story. My heart ached at the thought that I would never hear her arguing with Thistle again … or cursing us so our pants wouldn’t fit … or calling Landon ‘the Man’ when she tried to turn the teenage population of Hemlock Cove against him. I never thought I would miss those things, but deep down I knew I truly would.

“What if she doesn’t make it?” I hated asking the question. It was all I could think about, though.

“She’s going to make it, Bay,” Landon said. “In two days you’re going to be wishing she’d stayed unconscious longer. Mark my words, she’s going to be fine.”

I rested my head against his shoulder. “I’m really tired.”

“It’s been an emotional couple of hours,” Landon said. “Close your eyes and get a few minutes of sleep. It will refresh you. I’ll keep an eye on Aunt Tillie.”

“But … .”

“Shh. Sleep, Bay. I’ll be right here watching you both.”

WHEN I
woke something felt off. For a moment I wondered whether I was getting sick. Running around in the storm wasn’t exactly conducive to my good health. That wasn’t the source of the worry niggling at the back of my brain, though. Then it hit me.