I had gone east to protect a kindergarten-aged Taylor from a Witch Rose that sucked the essence out of children for power.

As a teenager, Taylor had gone east with me to finish off that same Witch Rose.

Now as a young college student, Taylor, with only Salem as a companion, was going west for another Witch Rose adventure.

This one to help a Witch Rose that was supposedly good, living off provided plant seeds and seedlings instead of young children for its power. A hard truth to swallow, considering what we knew from our other Witch Rose encounters.

But neither of them had involved the local Native Americans or a billionaire who wanted the Witch Rose's secret to the near immortality for those who controlled it.

Worst of all, from my outlook?

I am Taylor's grandfather, and for the first time, I was not going to be there to protect her.