"What was that all about," Bianca chased after Mel and grabbed her forearm, spinning her around to look into her eyes.
"I don't know what you mean," her sister-in law brushed her off before heading upstairs. Bianca followed her up to the attic and closed the door behind them. Mel opened the Book of Shadows before reciting a privacy spell.
"Can we talk freely?" Bianca crossed her arms and stared Mel down.
"We should be good," Mel crossed the attic to open a cabinet and began grabbing candles, setting them on top of the ritual table before heading for an antique trunk. "The boys will probably leave us alone for a good twenty minutes. Plenty of time to do what needs to be done."
"You know they're going to figure out what we've been doing," the Phoenix knelt at the table and Mel took the athame and ran it down the assassin's palm, dripping her scarlet blood into a ceremonial bowl.
"By the time they figure out that little show down there was an act it will be too late," Mel told her and slid the knife down her own wrist. "They can never truly know what we've done."
"And you're willing to take this secret to the grave," Bee asked.
Mel finally looked her best friend in the eyes. "I have to. There's no other choice."
It had been two months since Wyatt confided in his brother. Two months and they still didn't know what Bianca was hiding.
Wyatt had to give his brother credit though, he knew his wife was lying about something but he was willing to find out whatever it was to help Wyatt; risking his own relationship for him. For two months now they had been trailing her, talking to her acquaintances and making sure they knew everything she was doing. Wyatt was hoping she was the key to finding Rae.
Rae, a petite redhead with a voluptuous body that made Jessica Rabbit look like a nun. The infection which had lit his body on fire with fever. His plague.
For almost three months he had told himself she wasn't worth it; she took off, not him. So why should he waste his time looking for? There was one simple reason; she was his. He was hers. That was the oath they had sworn that night and while she might be incapable of it, Wyatt always kept his word; it was his bond.
And that was why he was standing in front of the Book of Shadows. He had questions and he knew the Book had answers. "Do you hear me?" he asked the spirits, ancestors who had as much claim to this book as he did. "I need your help. Please. A sign," he pleaded. "I don't know what I'm looking for. Help me find her." He felt a brush of wind on his cheek and found the pages of the book flipping by itself until it landed on one page. "To find a lost love," he read and cast his glance to the open attic door. He double checked his senses and relaxed when he confirmed he was alone in the house.
"Whither my love, wherever you be; through time and space bring my heart nearer to thee," he read.
The world went black.
The rise and fall of his movements brought him back to consciousness and he yelled as his horse crossed the countryside as he prayed he made it to his destination in time.
Young, powerful and benevolent, Arthur had fought against all who had mistaken him for weak and ruled over his kingdom justly. He had overcome the threats, the sorcery and united the lands and yet he stood to lose the only thing that mattered to him.
Her.
Guinevere. A marriage of convenience; his father had organized the deal with her father and so it was they were wed. She was a beauty; copper red hair that fell to the bottom of her back, golden brown eyes that reminded him of marigolds and lips full and pert. Six years his junior, his future Queen's face had never once betrayed how nervous she was but he could feel her energy spike uncontrollably whenever they were near one another.
Arthur rode until night fell and he reached the little cottage tucked away where even the darkest sorcerers could not divine. Here, tucked away from their enemies, his lover was supposed to be safe from the threats of war and magic yet as he reached the door fear struck him. There she laid on the floor...
In an instant it was over. Wyatt had barely registered the fact that he was reliving moments from a life so long ago lived that for the first time in a long time he wondered if his magic had led him wrong. He knew he had inherited Excalibur and theories and research had caused several members of the family to wonder if he had more in common with the legendary figure but Wyatt had dismissed those questions; he was more concerned about this life and this moment.
At least, he had been until he saw the face of his first love. The same woman who had abandoned him.