A Witch In Time Page 2

  “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

  “Is 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.

  “Aunt Tillie.”

  I rolled to my side, taking a moment to wonder how I’d gotten into a reclining position given the fact that I’d fallen asleep on Landon’s lap. I figured he must have moved me to a couch in the waiting room without me waking, but once my vision cleared I instantly realized I wasn’t in the hospital. No, I was in a house.

  “What’s going on?”

  I glanced over my shoulder to find Landon rubbing his eyes from the armchair at the edge of the room. He was dressed in his jeans and T-shirt from earlier, the scrubs gone, and he looked exhausted. “Where are we?”

  “What do you mean?” Landon asked, opening his eyes fully and scanning our surroundings. “
Holy crap! Where are we?”

  He has a wonderful way of stating the obvious question after I’ve already asked it. I tugged on my limited patience and pushed myself to a standing position, staring down at my own denim shorts and T-shirt with what can only be described as confusion. “Did you change my clothes when I was asleep?”

  “Yes, Bay. I often take your unconscious form and pretend you’re a Barbie doll. I can’t help myself. I get my jollies in weird ways.” Landon’s face was a mask of confusion and irritation. I was in the same waterlogged boat, so I had no idea what he was griping about.

  “You don’t have to take that tone with me,” I sniffed, rubbing my hands over my arms. “I’m … confused. I don’t understand how we got here. The last thing I remember is falling asleep on your lap. Wait … is Aunt Tillie okay?”

  Landon opened his mouth to answer and then snapped it shut. He probably had something nasty to say and realized now wasn’t the appropriate time. Of course, I could’ve been projecting my own feelings on him. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  “I think I fell asleep, too,” Landon said finally. “I remember watching Aunt Tillie. A few nurses came in to check on her and asked whether I wanted to move you to a bed in another room but I wanted to keep you with me. Then … I think I drifted off.”

  That made absolutely no sense. “If that’s true … um … how did we end up here?”

  “That’s a really good question,” Landon said, pushing himself to his feet and glancing around. “I don’t recognize this place.”

  I didn’t recognize it either. There was something familiar about it, though. “But … no one could’ve moved both of us without waking us. So how did we get here?”

  “Are you seriously asking me that question?” Landon challenged. “You’re the magical one. We’re probably trapped in a dream or something. Oh, crud! If we’re back in the fairy tale world I’m crawling under a blanket on that couch and hiding until the spell is over. I don’t care if bears try to throw me out.”

  I wanted to tell him how preposterous the sentiment was, but since Aunt Tillie cursed us into a fairy tale book of her making a few months ago, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. “This doesn’t feel like the fairy tale book,” I said, running my hands over scratchy couch fabric. “In fact, this feels entirely different.”

  “Well, that’s great, Bay,” Landon snapped. “It feels exactly the same to me.”

  Landon is good under pressure. Well … for the most part. He didn’t take being trapped in a fairy tale world well, though, mostly because our worst personality traits worked against us the longer we were trapped in the book and he became more and more bossy. I was sure this was different, but it felt magical all the same.

  “Please don’t yell at me,” I said quietly. “I know you’re upset, but … I didn’t do this.”

  Landon tugged a restless hand through his black hair. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this isn’t your fault. Come here.”

  I pressed my lips together, unsure whether I wanted to risk another outburst.

  “Bay, I’m really sorry,” Landon said, his eyes soulful as they latched onto mine. “That was unfair. It’s just … I know this is some sort of spell gone wrong. I can see by the look on your face that you know it, too. This never ends well for me.”

  “We don’t know what it is yet,” I clarified. “I … .”

  “Don’t,” Landon said, wagging a finger in my face. “We both know it’s a spell. We’re not going to do that whole ‘is it a dream’ thing this time. We’re not sharing the same dream and we’re both sharing this experience. We have to figure out what it is and deal with it. If I know anything about your family, I can almost guarantee there’s going to be some sort of lesson wrapped around whatever is about to happen.”

  I couldn’t argue with his assessment. There’s a reason he’s a decorated FBI agent. “This is my fault.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Landon said, grabbing my arm and pulling me in for a hug. “You didn’t do this,” he said, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “I’m not sure who did this because my only suspect is unconscious in a hospital right now, but it’s clearly magical.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to curl up in a ball on the couch and wait for the locusts to come,” Landon replied. “We’re not going to do that, though, because I have a feeling that won’t work. Just like the fairy tales, we’ll have to work our way through this. We just have to figure out what this is.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and nodded, briefly resting my head against Landon’s chest and tightening my arms around his neck. “Are you angry with me because of this?”

  Landon sighed, the sound long-suffering and tinged with agitation. “Why would I be angry with you?”

  “This clearly has ties to my family.”

  Landon tilted my chin up and locked his chocolate eyes with mine. “That doesn’t mean you did it,” he said. “I’m not angry. I’m … frustrated. I had plans for you this weekend, and going through another book of doom wasn’t on the top of my list.

  “We can’t dwell on that now, though,” he continued. “We have to move forward and see where we are, and then figure out how to get out of here. We can’t do it alone. We have to work together. The good news is that it appears to be just you and me this time. There’s no Thistle hanging around to make things unbearable.”

  Unfortunately, I could use a little bit of Thistle’s ingenuity about now. I kept that to myself. “I know I didn’t technically do this, but I’m really sorry.”

  “Bay, I love you no matter what,” Landon said. “I know crap like this is part of my life now if I want you in it. I definitely want you in it, so you need to let go of the insecurity thing. It drives me crazy and it’s not going to help.”

  I blew out a heavy sigh. “I love you, too.”

  “I know you do,” Landon said, squeezing me. “You’re going to owe me the world’s best pot roast when this is over with, though. I don’t care if you have to bribe your mother, I want it served to me in bed – and you have to wear one of those sexy maid outfits.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s never going to happen.”

  “Well, at least you’re back to being your feisty self,” Landon said, kissing the tip of my nose. “Okay, look around. Does any of this look familiar? What story is this from?”

  “I don’t think it’s a story,” I answered, reluctantly pulling away from him so I could give the room a more thorough search. “It doesn’t look like any place I’ve ever been … and yet there’s something very familiar about it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “Oh, well, good,” Landon deadpanned. “So far this is exactly like the fairy tale world. I can’t wait to get turned into a beast again.”

  “I thought you were a handsome beast.”

  Landon’s expression softened, although only marginally. “Point taken,” he said. “Complaining won’t help, and I refuse to turn into a rampant tool because we’re trapped … somewhere … in magical La-La Land. What do you think we should do?”

  He had to be joking. “You want me to make the decision? You’re the FBI agent. You should decide what we do.”

  “Yes, but you’re my magical wonder,” Landon replied calmly. “You figured out almost every solution in the fairy tale world. I’m out of my depth here. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that I should never doubt your intuition. What is it telling you to do now?”

  That was a pretty good question. “Let’s look around.”

  “Good idea,” Landon said, holding out his hand. “You’re not leaving my side, though. I don’t want to be separated from you in this world. Well, truthfully, I never want to be separated from you. That goes double for now, though.”

  I couldn’t contain my chuckle. “Even now you know the exact right thing to say.”

  “I think you’re exaggerating,” Landon said, squeezing my hand. “I’ve sai
d six wrong things since we woke up here. You only remember the good stuff about me. That’s one of your gifts. It’s probably my favorite one.”

  “I thought your favorite gift was when Aunt Tillie made me smell like bacon?”

  “Well, that is a good one,” Landon conceded. “Okay, you’re right. The bacon wins. If she didn’t make you taste like bacon at the same time, your capacity for forgiveness would be my favorite. Bacon trumps it, though. I cannot lie.”

  I shook my head. “At least you’re consistent.”

  “Come on,” Landon said, tugging on my hand. “Let’s look around.”

  We silently circled the room, Landon watching me as I picked up various trinkets and knickknacks. There was definitely something familiar about the room … and then it hit me. I turned quickly, my eyes landing on the cuckoo clock on the far wall. “Oh.”

  “Oh, what?” Landon asked. “Is that a good ‘oh’? Like ‘Landon, don’t stop, oh’ or is that a bad ‘oh’? Like ‘oh, Landon, you’re going to be showering alone today?’”

  “It’s like ‘oh, I think I know where we are,’” I replied.

  “Oh, well, that’s good then,” Landon said. “Where are we?”

  My answer was simple. “Home.”

  When I was a little girl, I respected my elders. Now that I’m an elder, I spend all of my time with annoying little girls. Someone explain to me how this happened.

  – Aunt Tillie when told she had to babysit

  Three

  “Whose home?” Landon wasn’t satisfied with my answer.

  “Mine,” I replied. “Well, I mean it’s technically the old homestead. This isn’t quite the original settlement that was on our property, but it is the house my grandmother and Aunt Tillie lived in when they were younger, before it was turned into the Victorian and became a bed and breakfast, and way before the big expansion that led to it becoming The Overlook.”

  “That was a mouthful,” Landon muttered, taking another look around the room and trying to put it into perspective given what stood in its place now. “This is the living room of the family quarters. Well, kind of. It’s bigger now, but I recognize the back wall. If we were standing in it now we’d be looking out at the patio.”