Hans took Jolie’s hand from the guardian and guided her past the stunning angel. “Let’s go. We don’t have much time.”

But, they had twelve hours.

A pulse burst from her chest, forcing her back into an arch. No pain assaulted her, but a new, strange energy hummed in her core.

“Hurry, dear.” Hans guided her inside.

The moment she crossed the threshold, a peaceful warmth embraced her. Home.

She let out a slow breath. Everything happening was so…out there. Yet it was part of the fabric of her destiny, and as a witch, she had a duty to uphold. To protect her family, her people, and all life on Earth.

Hans eased her further in, and the door closed behind her before Johnny darted to her side. “Use Epia’s memories.”

Epia’s memories? May her magic—she shed her coat, hat, and other glove, and walked further into the charming house and to the right. Her feet carried her into a cheerful front room and turned her left. One panel. She went right to it and pressed on the little embellishment in the wooden border waist high. The upper half raised, creating a ten-by-ten inch void.

“Put your hand over mine.” Hans’s voice snapped an enchantment from her.

She inhaled a calming breath and put her hand over his, her fingers almost between his, her palm resting on the back of his steady hand. His skin was warm and inviting. A light, pleasant electrical current danced through the contact, through her hand, up her arm, and filled her body.

His body pressed against hers as his other hand glided over her stomach and pinned her in place. Again, she shivered and inhaled his cologne. “Don’t scream and be sure to hold perfectly still.”

She started to turn her head as he reached into the void, her hand on his.

Something cold and slick touched her hand. She gasped. Hans’s fingers pinched hers.

Pointed nails glided over the back of her hand inside the void.

She swallowed a scream and leaned into Hans, who held her in place. Something, something really touched her. Trembling, Jolie moved her other hand over the one on her stomach, laced her fingers with his, and squeezed.

“It’s going to take your ring.” His whisper almost warmed her ear. “Lift and spread your fingers, but don’t move from my hand.”

No, she wouldn’t move her hand from his. She squeezed her eyes shut and lifted and spread her fingers, hooking her thumb around his for a measure of security.

Hissing noises sounded from the darkness, followed by a high-pitched screech.

She shook and squeezed his hand tighter.

Something grabbed hold of her ring, twisted it free, and eased it from her finger, long, sharp, thin, animal-like nails scraping her skin. Her heart thrashed in her chest, but Jolie focused on her breathing.

Hans’s hand moved below hers. Jolie kept her palm on his hand while his fingers curled, and she curled hers to stay in contact with his.

He jerked back, taking her with him. “Now!”

A bolt flew past them.

A shrill scream pierced the quiet, and long, sharp, talon-like fingers clawed at the opening.

“Dún!” The word ripped from her throat.

A terrifying howl tore through the house before the panel slammed shut.

Jolie spun and hugged Hans, shaking so hard she could barely stand. A sob racked her, and she greedily inhaled his soothing scent, her heart crashing against her ribs. “Is it over?” Her voice left her strangled.

“It is.” He rubbed her back. “Well done, dear.”

“What was that? What happened?” Her voice left her airy.

“I’d tell you, only it’d scare you. Let’s take half-an-hour to use the amenities and collect ourselves.”

She shivered before releasing him and taking a step back. One thing at a time. She could appreciate that.

In his hand was an odd walnut-shaped, dark green object covered in slime. She cringed and lifted her hand. Slimed covered her, light scratch marks beneath the substance.

Her stomach twisted. Whatever it was… Yeah, no, she wouldn’t ask. “Do you want the upstairs bathroom, or the one down here?”

“Down. I’ll put on tea.”

“Thanks.”

His other hand lifted and pushed some hair out of her face. “You can use Epia’s things. Just don’t take anything.”

Again, he knew things she didn’t.

She gave him a little nod, then turned and made her way through the beautiful house. It was like new, the furniture crisp, the air clean and fresh. Clear memories guided her through the house – there was an entire part of it from another time and place. Ancient Gaul.

Chills rippled down her spine. There was far more to her heritage than she knew or dreamed of—persecution, unrest, and glorious days history hadn’t remotely touched. And she never had a clue until after meeting Hans. Had he not been there, would some of her ancestor’s memories and powers still have flooded her?

She went into the master bedroom and did her business in the elegant bathroom, magic pulsing through the house, acting as electricity. It was beyond impressive. If only modern day witches outside her home and community knew how to tap into such magic, their lives would be incredibly different. Unfortunately, not all would use it for good.

She lifted her gaze. Her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair was a mess. Ick. Well, Hans said she could use Epia’s things.

A silver brush sparkled up at her. So she picked it up and pulled it through—“A gift for thee—” A soft, melodic voice filled her head. “—in the secret room—” She started another stroke. “—behind the broom closet—” Jolie started at the top of her head again. “—near the kitchen.—Take and drink your tea—then leave. For death—hunts thee and thy—companions.”

She gasped.

“Well done, Jolie.—Fare thee well—and blessed be.”

She tried another stroke, and the message started over.

Her hand trembling, she set the charmed brush down.

A knock rapped on the door, and she jumped.

“Jolie? Everything all right?” Worry laced Johnny’s voice.

She pasted on a smile and opened the bathroom door. “Yes. I need to tell Hans something.” Her heart fell into her hollow stomach. Her ancestor knew they’d come and left her a message.

“You got a message, didn’t you?”

She stared at him for a moment. “Johnny, how’d you know?”

He shrugged. “A feeling. Come on. He’ll want to hear it.”

She followed him through the hall, down the stairs, and to a cheery kitchen better belonging to a charming, cozy cottage.

“Something happened.” Johnny hopped up on a stool at the island counter and picked up a mini tart from a plate.

Hans set down a pot and spun, his brows raised, his lips pursed. His gaze scoured her face before his features smoothed. “Are you all right, dear? What happened?”

She strode over and sidled up next to him to see how he made his tea. “I receive a message when I brushed my hair.”

A thick brow cocked. “And?”

“Apparently, there’s a gift for me behind—”

His finger pressed against her lips. “Don’t say it out loud. Not even in such a well-guarded sanctuary.” His gaze cast about. “You never know who may be spying. Whatever the message said, go and do it.”

She inched closer to him and scanned around, the house peacefully quiet. Maybe too quiet.

Hans nudged her. “There was a note for us to help ourselves to some tarts left in the oven. Help yourself.”

His kindness and patience was ever soothing, especially after learning death—she sucked in a breath and touched his arm. Death was hunting them.