The Thrice Divided Read online

  THE THRICE DIVIDED

  AUSTRALIAN SUPERNATURAL: GOLDFIELDS - BOOK TWO

  NICOLE R. TAYLOR

  The Thrice Divided (Australian Supernatural: Goldfields - Book Two) by Nicole R. Taylor

  Copyright © 2022 by Nicole R. Taylor

  All rights reserved.

  This book is written in British/AU English.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.nicolertaylorwrites.com

  Cover Design: Miblart

  Edited by: Silvia Curry

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  NEXT: The Chaos Inside

  Australian Supernatural: Goldfields

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  About Nicole

  CHAPTER 1

  Holly Burke ran her shaky hands over her black dress and sighed. It was the second she’d worn in the span of a month. How many more times would she have to parade around Dunloe’s cemetery before the year was out?

  She thought over all the things that’d happened since she’d arrived in the small country town, and if she hadn’t lived through all of them, she would’ve thought she was having a mental breakdown.

  Attacked and manipulated by witches, two attempts at carving her back open to take her magic, Sarah Dunne being possessed by a dark spirit, two vampires, mysterious deaths being covered up by mind compulsion, and a conspiracy that stretched hundreds of years into the town’s Gold Rush past.

  What was someone supposed do with stuff like that? Go completely mad or simply accept it as reality, that’s what.

  Sitting on the couch in the lounge room in her late aunt’s cottage, she cradled a worn, leather-bound book in her lap. Aunt Hannah was a witch, a goth, and the same clothing size as her niece, so black dresses were plentiful—along with crystals, tarot cards, and magical powers.

  Running her fingers over the letter Hannah had written before her death, Holly scanned it for what was quite possibly the millionth time.

  Knowing she might be murdered by the Trine—the leaders of the three witch bloodlines present in Dunloe—one day for her magic, Hannah had bound Holly’s Legacy to keep her safe, but had found herself dead at their hands instead. Now, Holly’s life was next in line.

  Her only saving grace was that the Trine didn’t know her powers were unbound—and she didn’t have a clue how to control them. With no one to teach her, all Holly had was the Burke family grimoire.

  Everything seemed out of reach, like a mountain so tall and steep, it was impossible to climb.

  And today, she had to go to the funeral for her one and only friend, Sarah Dunne. Daughter of the leader of the Trine, Samantha Dunne, daughter of the murdered Marty Dunne, and the only witch she’d known who might’ve been able to help her.

  Holly checked her watch. If she was going, she had to leave now or she’d be late.

  Her stomach made an awful gurgling sound as her nerves came back to haunt her. How was she going to keep her magic a secret from the Trine? How was she going to look Samantha Dunne in the eye, knowing she was a witness to Sarah’s death? But if she didn’t go, her absence would raise more questions than she knew how to answer. The jig would be up, or so the saying went.

  Holly stashed the grimoire underneath the floorboards where she’d found it, and set the wicker basket full of firewood over the top.

  Grabbing her bag, she slung it over her shoulder and went outside. She made sure the door was locked before turning to the garden but jerked to an awkward stop when she saw ‘detective’ Jin Xu standing on the verandah.

  He was the last person she wanted to see…especially today.

  The vampire was leaning against the railing, gazing out at the bush beyond the garden. The clump of gum and wattle trees hid the creek that ran parallel to her property line. The ribbony thread of brownish water was the only thing that kept the creepy spirits trapped in the diggings from crossing into her yard.

  Holly tensed. When she looked at him, all she saw was Sarah’s destroyed heart in his bloodied hand.

  Jin didn’t look up, but since he was a vampire, she knew he’d heard pretty much everything from the time she’d gotten up off the couch until now.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  His shoulders rose and fell in a sigh. “Just doing my part in the local neighbourhood watch.”

  Remembering the poor mind-controlled Constable Hank Judge, she snorted. “Shouldn’t you be at the police station frying brains?”

  “I’ve got it covered.”

  “I’m sure you have.”

  He straightened. “Holly—”

  “I don’t need your help,” she snapped, brandishing her house keys through her clenched fist like a pointy knuckle-duster.

  “Unfortunately, you do.” Jin narrowed his eyes. “Blown anything up yet?”

  She blinked, her heart skipping a beat.

  “I heard that.”

  Holly curled her lip. “You’re a vampire; you’d hear a fly fart at a hundred paces.”

  He snorted, never taking his gaze off her, not even to blink. “You have a powerful Legacy you have no idea how to use, let alone control, and you want to go to the funeral for a witch whose mother wants to cut you open. On the list of stupid things to do, this is at the top.”

  “And whose fault is that?” she spat.

  “Sarah Dunne was possessed. She’d made a bargain with no way out.”

  “There was a way out,” Holly hissed. “I saw it in her eyes. I almost had her.”

  “Says the little witch who only just found out she has mystical powers. Magic isn’t learned in a day, Holly.”

  “Just because you knew a witch in the olden days doesn’t mean you know anything about it,” she snapped. “You tore Sarah’s heart out right in front of me. You didn’t stop to think about what I was doing. What my magic was doing.”

  Jin ran his hand over his face. “There you go, making it all about you.”

  “It was about you until you killed her!”

  “And I’d do it again.” His eyes seemed to darken, the whites misting to greyish-black.

  “No matter who gets hurt, huh?” Unafraid of what he could do to her, she shoved him, her palms pushing hard against his chest. Unfortunately, it was like trying to shatter a brick wall. “Well, if saving me means people have to die for no reason, then I don’t want your help!”

  The vampire stepped off the verandah and into the sunlight. “You’re making a mistake going there today, Holly.”

  There were scant few things around this place that were in her control, but at least this was.

  “And you’re making a mistake trying to control me,” she retorted. “I’m not Hazel.” Don’t trust Hazel Burke… Hannah’s warning came back to her, and she glared at Jin. “I’ll never be Hazel.”

  Steam began to rise from Jin’s exposed skin and his cheeks began to blister. “Ow.”

  “I don’t want you here.”

  “Holly…” He grabbed her arm and she blinked. Her rage subsided like a switch had flicked inside her head, and Jin’s skin began to heal.

  “It’s the Burke Legacy that keeps me from bursting into flames,” he reminded her. “Be careful where you point that thing.”

  Her heart filled with guilt as Holly looked him over, but her pride took control and she glared at him. “Well, maybe you should find another Legacy.” She stalked down the steps and across the yard.

  “You’re making a mistake,” Jin called.

  “Patrick will be there, and I’ll be fine,” she hurled back at him.

  “And trusting him will be your second mistake.”

  Resisting the urge to flip him off, Holly got into her car, slammed the door, and shoved the key into the ignition. She peeled out of the driveway, the tyres kicking up gravel, and roared down Moonlight Track, not looking back.

  Maybe going to Sarah’s funeral was a mistake, but at least it would be her mistake.

  Jin watched Holly drive away, his anger rising.

  She was just as stubborn as Hazel, ignoring all the warning signs around her until it was far too late to do anything about it. History was definitely repeating itself and, for the first time since he’d awoken, he was doubting himself.

  The warbling of magpies drifted through the morning air and carried across the garden. Jin looked over his shoulder at the cottage and narrowed his eyes. He remembered this place—mainly because 1852 was barely a month ago in the jumbled chaos that was his mind.

  He’d managed to black out whatever he’d been through in the mine—the slow anguish of desiccation, the whispers in the dark, his searing thirst, and his anguish at being taken when Hazel had needed him the most—and relegate it to a place deep inside where he’d never have to remember it again.

  But what tormented him the most was that he knew n
othing about this time, nor the technological and social advancements. Everything he’d ever known had turned into dust and had been replaced with an alien landscape.

  Everywhere he looked, there were echoes of the Dunloe he’d left behind—the post office building on Main Street, the stone façade of the Union Reef Arms, the railway, the gaol—and the diggings, which had once been so full of life, were now ruins. The brick wheelhouses, the poppet head pumping water out of the Union Reef Mine, the tracks leading into the diggings, the hustle and bustle of men working above and below ground, the dust and filth, the horse and carts, the prettily dressed women, the roughnecks, the darkness of night without the modern marvel of electricity, the clang of hammers colliding with metal at the blacksmith. The observations went on and on, but dwelling on them would only drive him further into melancholy.

  In the 1850s, life was contained to town and the diggings, but in the new millennium, life was the entire world. People beyond counting. Events, times, places, names, faces, television, radio, the internet…there were so many distractions. Fashion, news, entertainment, self-absorption…influencers. Money, beauty, power. Things that’d been shallowly important to humans back then were now intensified to the point where it made his head ache.

  How would Jin ever find peace in a world such as this? Immortality had become such a burden and he’d barely known what it was to live beyond a normal human lifespan. Maybe he didn’t have the stamina for it.

  He’d never belonged in his own time, let alone his human life. Half-Chinese, half-British, he’d been shunned from both white society and that of the Chinese who’d come to the goldfields. Even as a vampire, he’d been cast out because of his association with Hazel.

  And now…? He could add ‘man out of time’ to the ever-growing list.

  Jin now lived in the 2000s, having skipped an entire century, and even though the world had gone through all those changes, he found himself in the middle of the same supernatural nonsense that’d gotten him imprisoned in the Union Reef Mine. The covens were still desperate for power, though now vampires were an endangered species. Even so, the story was following the same pattern.

  Holly would be discovered—that was a ‘when,’ not an ‘if’—and the Trine would open her up and claim her Legacy, ending the Burke bloodline for good. That meant Holly was the conduit, and he’d be dead. If miracles did happen and there was another Burke witch out there—which may very well be the case—then he would still be dead.

  Though, if Holly was killed, did he owe it to Hazel to stop the Trine from claiming ultimate power? He’d killed Sarah Dunne to save Holly’s life, but she hated him for it. He said he didn’t care…so why did he? He could go anywhere in the world, some place far out of their reach. They’d never be able to find him, but he’d be a slave to the night. The spell that helped him walk in the sun would dissolve the moment Holly died, and based on the way she was going, it’d be sooner rather than later.

  She didn’t want his help, which meant he had to help himself.

  Leaving the cottage behind, he forgot about the funeral, forgot about the Trine and Holly’s unbound Legacy, and ghosted through Dunloe, his vampire speed bringing him to the police station.

  Inside, Hank Judge stood behind the counter and smiled. “Detective,” he called. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  Jin glared at the man, feeling guilty that he’d compelled him so thoroughly that there was barely anything left of his personality—not that he’d had much of one to begin with. But was he feeling guilty because he knew Holly disapproved or because he genuinely felt bad?

  Jin shook his head. Who cares? Holly wasn’t Hazel, no matter how much they looked alike. He didn’t need her approval.

  “Yes,” the vampire said, making a decision. “We have something very important to attend to today.” He crooked a finger. “Come with me.”

  Hank scurried around the counter, his eagerness borderline annoying, especially so early in the morning. “Where are we going?”

  “To find a witch.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Holly stood on the footpath, staring at Samantha Dunne’s posh, federation-style home.

  The burial had been a private affair, on account of there being no body to intern in the cemetery, but the wake was brimming with activity.

  The front door had been left open, and people spilled from inside the house out into the garden where tables were set up with little plates of finger sandwiches and mini-quiches. The food was covered in delicate white netting to keep the flies away and accented with small terracotta pots filled with white daisies. If everyone wasn’t wearing black, Holly would’ve confused it with a summer garden party.

  You can do this, she told herself. You can play the double agent, no worries. Just don’t let the Trine touch you.

  She took a step towards the garden gate, but a cold hand grasped her bare arm.

  “What are you doing here?” Patrick demanded.

  Holly turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. He wore a black suit and tie like the rest of the men, but unlike his peers, he wore it too well, considering they were at a funeral. She shouldn’t be thirsting after a vampire who, until recently, was conspiring with the Trine to kill her for her magic.

  “Paying my respects to my friend,” she hissed, pulling away.

  “The Trine may be focused on Jin right now, but they’re still after you. Nothing’s changed.”

  “I won’t be a prisoner in my own home.”

  “Holly, if the Trine finds out about your Legacy—”

  “They won’t.”

  “You’ve got it under control, then, have you?”

  For a split-second, she thought about telling Patrick about the grimoire, but decided it was one secret she ought to keep to herself. The curse binding him to the Trine may be unravelling, but there were parts of him that were still under their control. Knowing that her Legacy was unbound was bad enough, but at least he hadn’t uttered a word. Yet.

  There was hope after all, but she wasn’t about to let the Trine get a hold of the Burke grimoire. If what she’d been told about it was true, then only she had the right to read it. Sarah had been adamant about that.

  “What do you expect to get out of being here?” Patrick went on. “The best thing for you to do is leave Dunloe.”

  The thought hadn’t crossed her mind, and she hesitated. “Leave?”

  “The only thing that waits for you here is death. At least out there you have a chance. There are other witches in the world, Holly. You should go find them.”

  “I can’t leave,” she argued. “Not now.”

  “Why?” Patrick’s green eyes seemed to look straight through her. “Why is it so important for you to stay?”

  She glared, desperately trying to think of a reason why. “B-Because.”

  “Because?” Patrick scoffed. “That’s your answer?”

  Holly pursed her lips and turned her back on him, making her intent clear. He wasn’t the boss of her.

  She stalked into the house, offering tense smiles to several people who offered their condolences. She supposed they’d known Aunt Hannah, but she was too tightly wound to stop and make smalltalk.

  When she stepped into the living room, she balked as she saw Samantha Dunne talking to a woman by the fireplace.

  Holly turned but saw Kate Doyle—Trine member number two—in the hall. Swallowing hard, she backed into the corner where a table had been set up with tea and coffee, and tried to make herself small.

  “I’m so sorry,” the woman was saying to Samantha. “First your husband and now your daughter. A terrible tragedy… If you need anyth—”

  “I’ll be sure to let you know,” the witch interrupted, spotting Holly lingering in the corner.

  Bugger it, she thought, looking around for another escape route. There were none that weren’t guarded by Trine members or bossy vampires—and flinging herself through the open window was completely out of the question—so she plastered a fake smile onto her face.