Witch's Awakening
Authors: Neely Powell
Welcome to New Mourne, where old-world creatures come to make a new life.
For generations a cruel enchantress has forced the Connelly witches to make a terrible sacrifice. In exchange, New Mourne can remain a peaceful refuge for humans and magical creatures of all kinds. Now Brenna, her sister and cousins are next in line to dieâunless Brenna can find a way to confront the evil Woman in White.
Lawman and shape-shifter Jake Tyler steps in to combat the mysterious spirit terrorizing the town. He's drawn to the beautiful, auburn-haired Brenna, but pursuing her would mean risking his emotional controlâthe only thing keeping his shifting instincts at bay.
Jake has Brenna almost forgetting that she is a marked woman whose only allegiance is to her family. But when evil portents appear in unlikely places, the powers of the Connelly clan may not be enough to defeat the dark magic that has taken hold of New Mourne.
Book One of The Connelly Witches
Witch's Awakening
Neely Powell
Three fellow authors never stopped believing in me as a writer,
even when I had given up on myself:
My collaborator and closest friend, Leigh Neely,
My cheerleader no matter what, Erica Spindler,
And my loyal supporter, the late Beverly Beaver (aka Beverly Barton).
I have unending gratitude to these women for their impact on my life.
âJan Hamilton Powell
For Richard, who never once doubted, for Stephanie, Dale and Scott, who made my own story so very interesting, and for Jan Powell, who was my BFF before it became fashionable.
âLeigh Neely
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Brenna Burns shivered as she watched the storm build outside her family's home. Pines and ancient hardwoods whipped in the wind, bending at impossible angles. Her breath caught as the top of one old oak tree snapped and crashed to the ground just yards from the house. Thunder echoed down the mountains and through the Connelly Valley. Lightning strikes came in a constant stream.
Like fire,
Brenna thought, her senses sharpening. A wholly unnatural fire.
June in North Georgia brought its share of thunderstorms, but this was different. Though clouds boiled overhead, there was no rain, and Brenna's skin prickled with trepidation. She turned with a start as her younger sister Fiona ran into the room, shouting for help.
“We've got to stop her!”
“Stop who?”
“Eva Grace. She says Garth is in trouble and she needs to go help him.” Eva Grace Connelly was their first cousin, but the three of them grew up together and, as Connelly women, they shared a bond deeper than sisters. Garth was the man Eva Grace was to marry tomorrow. The sisters and cousin had just arrived home from a bridal luncheon when the storm began building out of a clear, blue sky.
Brenna gasped as thunder shook the old house, rattling windows and china in the breakfront.
“Come on,” Fiona said, and this time Brenna obeyed. She could feel the evil spinning around the house, encircling them.
They ran through the kitchen where they found Eva Grace at the door of the screened-in porch, just about to step into the violent storm.
“No,” Brenna screamed, reaching for her. “Don't go outside. This isn't just a bad storm. There's darkness in it.”
“I know,” Eva Grace said, pulling away. “Garth is in trouble. My moonstone was glowing hot in my pocket. When I focused, I realized he was alone and fighting for his life. I have to get to him. He's at Mulligan Falls.” She pushed the door open and the wind slammed it against the wall. Then she was gone, her long red hair streaming behind her as she ran across the yard.
Brenna looked at Fiona and saw her own terror reflected in her sister's eyes. All three of them shared the same green eye color, distinctly Connelly and equally expressive.
“Come on,” Brenna said, grabbing Fiona's hand.
They raced into the maelstrom, dodging flying tree limbs and calling Eva Grace's name. They caught up to her just as the lawn gave way to dense forest and the sisters flanked their cousin, each taking one of her hands. Wind tore at Brenna's clothes and lightning bolts hit all around them, splitting trees and sending sparks through the dry underbrush. It was good they joined hands for Brenna feared they would never have pushed through the dark force trying to bar their way without that link. Three Connellys were difficult to stop.
Eva Grace yelled over the thunder and roar of the wind. “Brenna, can you do something to weaken the storm?”
Brenna braced her legs so she could stand firm and closed her eyes. When she was set, she raised her free arm and splayed her fingers. While slowly dropping her hand, she repeated an old Celtic incantation.
Nothing happened.
Brenna felt the first drops of rain, and then the torrent began, a curtain of rain so thick it was difficult to see the path in front of them. “This storm isn't nature. I can't phase it.”
For a witch with strong connections to the elements, this was a rare occurrence. North Georgia's mountains and hills were a second home to her. Brenna had a special bond with these slopes. Like generations before her, she had often called upon this land's power for her spells.
“Let's go,” Eva Grace said, surging forward again. “We have to get to the falls.”
Hands clasped, the three women bent their heads against the driving rain and pushed forward. No inch of this area was unknown to them as they had grown up in the old house that sat among the massive white pines. They'd played and learned their craft surrounded by these tall trees, but today every step of this familiar path was a battle.
Brenna had always known evil lurked at the edges of their land. She, Fiona and Eva Grace had been warned of the danger all of their lives. She had felt the darkness watching and waiting. Hadn't their legacy, their curse, been the reason she left home almost three years ago? She had tried to stay away, coming home for only short visits, but her attempt at escape had been a futile effort. She'd moved back from Atlanta just this week, in time for the wedding, ready to reclaim her identity as a Connelly witch.
Was her absence what this was about? Brenna wondered. Were the mountains punishing her for trying to make her home elsewhere?
This storm felt personal, as if a stalwart, evil being was pushing against the protections Brenna knew were laid regularly by Connelly witches. Her grandmother Sarah, a particularly strong witch, refreshed those wards every week. Aunts and cousins frequently added their own spells, but the curse had found a way to overcome them.
Finally, the three young women emerged in a flat clearing near the edge of the falls. The rush of water joined the cacophony of thunder and rain. They stopped, unable to move any closer.
“What is it, Brenna?” Fiona gasped. “What's stopping us?”
Brenna pressed her hand against the air in front of her and felt the sizzle of dark magic. She jerked back when it arced and sparked above their heads.
“It's like nothing I've ever seen. I don't think we can get any closer.”
“Garth,” Eva Grace said, dropping to her knees.
The rain and wind eased, and Brenna saw Eva Grace's fiancé. His sheriff's uniform intact, gun safely holstered at his hip, Garth lay at the feet of a beautiful woman. She glowed, her white dress out of another age with a wide collar, long bodice and a full skirt. Her hair was a mass of blond curls with long ringlets surrounding a pale, pale face. Despite the wind and rain that swirled around them, the woman and Garth were untouched by the storm.
Brenna pushed as hard as she could against the magic that blocked them. Here was the evil they all had known was coming. As surely as the years passed, this Woman in White always came for the tribute she demanded from the Connellys. Even Sarah's power had been unable to stop her, and Brenna felt helpless in the face of her family's worst enemy and darkest fear.
The woman said, “He is mine.”
“No!” Eva Grace screamed. “He belongs to me, destined to be my husband. I love him.”
The woman looked down at Garth and knelt to lay a gentle hand on his face. Brenna saw Garth draw in a deep breath and then his chest moved no more.
Eva Grace's scream echoed through the hills as the storm stopped like someone had turned it off. The Woman in White stepped over Garth. Her smile was startling, a wickedly beautiful gesture that turned Brenna's blood to ice.
“Tell Sarah Connelly I will have the rest of what I am due and soon,” the woman said and turned. Just before she reached the edge of the cliff, she faded and everything was silent except for Eva Grace's sobs.
Chapter Two
The temperature was rising again, creating a sauna effect in the thick forest as Jake Tyler swung his Mourne County cruiser to a stop at the side of a narrow country road. When he stepped out of the car, the wind that usually eased the heat was gone. The forest was still and silent.
He felt the familiar heavy dread he experienced when he arrived at a crime scene. Only it was worse this time. The victim was Garth, his boss and best friend. The dispatcher said Garth was dead. Jake couldn't believe it. Had Garth fallen while hiking? Maybe he was just injured. He couldn't be dead.
He heard the distant roar of Mulligan Falls as he strode toward the head of a little-used path in the woods. Fiona Burns had called 9-1-1 from her cell phone just ten minutes ago. The dispatcher immediately contacted Jake, who was the deputy sheriff. EMS and other deputies were also en route to this north end of the county, but Jake had been close by and arrived first.
He pushed through the dripping foliage. He had not been raised here, had lived in the area for only three years, but he already knew these mountains well. He spent every free moment roaming this wonderland. For someone of his nature, the remote, sparsely populated part of the county was a dream come true. He thanked God often that he had met Garth while serving in the military and agreed to come to his friend's hometown. Garth knew what Jake needed. He always understood. God, he couldn't be deadâ¦
Jake broke into a jog as the sound of the falls intensified. One last turn and the path gave way to an opening near the cliff. A nightmare scene spread out before him. Eva Grace Connelly stood with her cousins, Brenna and Fiona, their hands joined, chanting softly over Garth's lifeless body. Jake's keen senses smelled death in the air. Garth was truly gone.
Out of respect, Jake stopped a short distance away. Instinctively, he lifted his nose to catalog all the scents of the scene. There was ozone from the recent storm and a darker, unpleasant smell Jake suspected was the evidence of magic. Black magic. Unusual. No one practiced the dark arts in New Mourne.
Magic was in the air everywhere in Mourne County, but generally, it was bright and light, like a ribbon that gracefully wound its way through the homes and lives of the special people who lived here.
But this magic was nasty, heavy and oppressive. It had been a long time since Jake had sensed anything this wicked. Something horrible had taken Garth. This wasn't a tragic accident. That knowledge drove like a fist into Jake's belly and he bent forward in pain, bracing his hands on his knees. Why Garth? Why would Garth be a target for something evil? Jake couldn't stop the rumble of grief that tore out of him.
Brenna's head immediately snapped toward him. The gaze that locked with his was like green fire. She knew, he realized. The witch knew as well as he did that this was the work of an evil force.
Acknowledging Brenna with a nod of his head, Jake straightened. Then he spoke into the radio on his shoulder. He confirmed he was at the scene and that backup was on the way. The other units were having difficulty because of trees down across roads due to the storm, but they were coming.
Too late for Garth
, Jake thought as he walked toward the women. He'd been around town long enough to know you didn't try to penetrate a magic circle, and that's what the two sisters and their cousin formed. As soon as they released their hands, he dropped down beside Jake. Already knowing it was useless, he felt for a pulse. There was nothing. Garth's skin was cooling. The man's sightless brown eyes stared up at the blue summer sky. Jake gently closed them.