Run (Caged Trilogy Book 1)

by H G Lynch

  She danced past me again and started to shuffle papers around on a large wooden desk. The whole room was scattered with books of all sizes, some with leather covers and ancient looking yellow pages, some with shiny metal buckles attached. Books were piled on the floor, spilling off the bookcases, towering on the desk. It has to be a fire hazard, I thought, with all those candles around.

  Even as I thought it, Jasmine began going round the room, blowing out the candles.

  Then she turned, hands on hips, and looked at me with those restless eyes. “So, you’re here for a Protection Charm. Something that’ll keep the Leyland Sisters at bay and out of your pretty little head.”

  Startled by her assumption, I stammered, “I– um…it…”

  Spencer rubbed his thumb across my knuckles, and I shut up, mostly because my mouth went suddenly dry. “Yes, that’s why we’re here,” he said steadily, though I noticed a hint of amusement in his tone, no doubt at my expense. I scowled.

  With a knowing smirk in my direction, Jasmine made a faint, approving noise. Turning her eyes back to Spencer, she asked, “Have you got something to use as a Charm? Something she can keep on her at all times, preferably.”

  I pondered why she was asking him, as if this Charm weren’t for me, but Spencer stuck his hand in his pocket and brought something out, and I guessed she’d already known he had an object for her to Spell.

  Without looking at me, Spencer stretched out his hand over Jasmine’s palm and let something drop from his fist into her hand. I only caught a glimpse of it, small and white with a chain attached, and wondered what it was. Jasmine closed her fingers over it quickly, wandered to her desk, and sat down in the chair behind it.

  Humming to herself, she dug around between the stacks of books and pulled out what looked like a mortar and pestle of black stone. She took the pestle and laid it aside, then dropped the Charm Spencer had given her into the bowl. From apparently nowhere, she produced a sachet of some herbs—I assumed protection herbs—and tipped the contents into the bowl, sprinkling it over the Charm. She pulled another sachet from somewhere, and did the same, though I had no idea what herbs were in that one.

  I watched, fascinated, as Jasmine bent her head, her fingers cupping the bowl, and closed her eyes. She spoke an incantation in Latin, one I recognised well, because I’d used it myself a few times. I didn’t doubt her protection magic would be stronger, though. She invoked the elements, the power of the sun and moon, and sea and sky, asking them to protect the Spell-Bearer from harm. I thought she was done, for there was no more to the incantation that I knew of, but she continued in a slower, almost husky voice, as if she were trying to seduce the Charm.

  Mentally translating her words, I blushed fervently, and Spencer shot me a sideways, questioning look. I kept my eyes on Jasmine as she spoke the second incantation. I knew what it meant. I call upon the power of the fire and the moon to help the passion of new love bloom, and aid the moon's child in keeping his loyalty strong. The extra herbs she’d added must have been for that part of the incantation.

  As soon as she spoke the last word, the contents of the bowl burst into brilliant purple flames with a sizzling pop. They subsided quickly, leaving behind only the Charm. She held it up, clean and untouched by the magic fire, and I gasped as I recognised it. It was a white pebble, swirled with blue and gold—the pebble I’d found in the stream during one of my late night meetings with Spencer. Only, it had a gold chain glued onto it, turning it into necklace. Jasmine handed it to me, and I stared at it in my palm, then up at Spencer. He smiled at me shyly, and shrugged.

  “How…when…?” I stammered, amazed. I’d forgotten completely about the pebble. I’d left it in the drawer of my nightstand in my cabin, and hadn’t even looked at it in a week. I couldn’t imagine how he’d gotten hold of it, or why. Had he known somehow that I’d need it for a Charm?

  Looking a little uncomfortable, he said, “You dropped it the other night when you were sleepwalking. I picked it up and thought I’d hold on to it, put a chain on it so you could wear it. That way you wouldn’t drop it again…” He shrugged again.

  I bit my lip, looking back down at the beautiful, shiny pebble in my hand. It was such a sweet, thoughtful thing for him to do, but I couldn’t imagine why I would have been carrying it when I was sleepwalking.

  I slipped the chain over my head and the pebble rested against my chest in the narrow valley between my breasts, cool, smooth, and tingling slightly against my skin from the freshness of the magic put on it. Tentatively, I touched it and smiled. My Protection Charm…I wasn’t sure if I meant the pebble, the boy standing next to me, or the wolf who had protected me from the start.

  Carefully, Spencer took a step closer to me and lifted his hand, brushing the magically enchanted pendant. His fingertips drew a tiny blue spark from the stone, and he jerked his hand back. I laughed under my breath, glancing at him through my lashes. He met my gaze with intense blue eyes, and my stomach fluttered.

  Jasmine cleared her throat, and I looked quickly away from Spencer.

  Jasmine, her red hair shimmering under the bright light, had her hands folded elegantly in her lap and her thin brows were raised expectantly. “Now, if you two are quite done with your moment,” she snickered, “I believe there’s something you’d like to ask me, Tilly.”

  I blinked. “There is?”

  She nodded. I thought about it for a second, but nothing came to mind. I shook my head.

  Jasmine just smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know why it is that you have the powers you do? Wouldn’t you like to know what you really are?”

  “I…” I licked my lips nervously. “You…you know what I am?” My voice was almost a whisper. My heart pounded and my stomach felt as if it was full of cold, wriggling worms. Could she really know what I was? Could the odd, pretty woman tell me why I had the ability to raise demons from the Underworld, something only a Dark witch or a Shaman could do, and still held the power to do Light Spells? Maybe if I knew what I was, I could find a way to get rid of my Dark power. I’d never have to feel the touch of a demon’s mind in mine again, and the Sisters would have to leave me alone. I’d be no use to them without that power.

  “I can tell…if you give me your hands.” Jasmine closed her eyes, nodding, and held her hands out to me.

  Hesitantly, I put my hands in hers, and her soft fingers enclosed mine. I glanced at Spencer, who looked both confused and fascinated. I gave him a smile that was meant to be reassuring, but he didn’t look reassured. Taking a deep breath, I turned back to Jasmine and closed my eyes.

  A shock of energy, like electricity, shot through my arms from our joined hands, and the darkness behind my lids flashed into colour. Strange, meaningless patterns shifted across my eyes, changing colours the way I’d seen Jasmine’s eyes do. Psychedelic shapes bubbled across the blankness, lime green and hot pink to cyan blue and butter yellow to chocolate brown and chalky grey.

  The energy flowing from Jasmine into me subsided, and I gasped as my eyes flew open. Jasmine released my hands, her own eyes opening. Slate grey, I noted, eerily similar to my own. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, and she blinked twice, focus coming into her eyes. She fixed her gaze on me intently, and I bit my lip.

  “So, do you know what I am?” I asked anxiously. I felt Spencer move up behind me, and I reached blindly behind me for his hand. His strong fingers closed around mine, easing the knot in my stomach.

  Jasmine made a soft sound between her teeth, a noise of surprise. She blinked, and her eyes turned a disturbing shade of indigo. “Candesco Venefica,” she whispered with a strange combination of fear and awe.

  I swallowed, the bitter taste of having confirmation of what I’d always suspected sitting thickly in the back of my throat.

  “Cande-what?” Spencer asked, his brow creased with incomprehension.

  Still staring at Jasmine, I murmured, “Candesco Venefica. It’s Latin. It means…Grey witch.”

  Half Light witch and half D
ark witch, with all the powers of both, and the weaknesses of neither. A Grey witch was the most dangerous kind of witch, with access to both the Underworld and Earth’s power. A Grey witch had the power to raise hordes of demons and bind them to This World, so no other witch, except another Grey witch, could banish them back to the Underworld. I had the power to do that…if I wanted. I didn’t. I really didn’t. I had one foot in the Dark World and one in This World, and I wanted to have both my feet in This World.

  “Is that…bad?” Spencer was eyeing me warily. It wasn’t fear of me, but fear for me.

  I felt oddly disconnected, sort of relieved to finally know for sure why I had the power I did, but there was a sharp edge of horror creeping up on me under the numb relief. I pushed it away. I didn’t want to deal with it just yet, didn’t want to think about what it meant for me and for my— No. Don’t think about it. Not yet. Just get out of here.

  Seeing I wasn’t in any state to answer Spencer, Jasmine spoke up, sliding her hazel eyes from me to him. “As far as possible outcomes go, this is a good one. With Tilly’s combination of powers, she could have been some sort of Dark Fae or even part demon. A Grey witch can be either Dark or Light, depending on how she chooses to use her powers. She’s actually pretty lucky, to have a choice like that. But she has to be careful. With the kind of power she has, it’s easy to lose sight of what is right and wrong. The lines become fuzzy, and morals become…grey.”

  Spencer was still looking at me with some measure of concern, trying to read my expression, and I knew that he was going to ask why I looked so unhappy when that was good news.

  I wasn’t ready to be having that conversation, not there and not then, so I nodded my thanks to Jasmine and said, “Thank you, Jasmine, for the Charm and…the information. But I need to track down my idiot best friend and have a talk with him, so I’ll be going now. It was nice to meet you.”

  If Jasmine was insulted or surprised by my blunt goodbye, she didn’t show it. She just smiled brilliantly and waved as I turned for the door. Spencer followed me out the door onto the creaky porch, pausing to say something in a low voice to Jasmine. I moved down the rotting steps, stuffing my hands into my pockets, and started walking back in the direction of the cabins. Spencer caught up with me, and I sensed the questions forming in his mouth, so I hunched my shoulders and refused to look at him, hoping he’d get the hint that I didn’t want to talk. Thankfully, he did. We walked back to the cabins in silence.

  We were almost back to the cabins when Spencer touched my elbow, drawing me to a halt. Expressionless, I looked up at him, willing my eyes not to betray what I was feeling. I needed just a little time to myself to think about things first—then I’d tell him what was going on. I’d tell him what Jasmine had deliberately and tactfully not mentioned when she explained to him what a Grey witch was and why they were so rare.

  For a moment, Spencer hesitated, his fingers still light on my elbow. Shadows of the leaves alternated with splashes of light on his face, and the breeze blew his hair across his forehead, lifting it out of his eyes. His dark brows were furrowed. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Mechanically, I nodded. “I’m fine. But I really should go and find Dominic.”

  I turned to go, but Spencer tugged at my elbow again, turning me back to face him, gently but firmly.

  His eyes narrowed to sharp blue slits. “You’re lying. Don’t lie to me, Tilly. I expect it from everyone else, but not from you.” His mouth thinned.

  I dropped my gaze, unable to hold his stare, while I pretended to misunderstand him. “No, really, I need to talk to Dominic about earlier. I was kind of harsh, and I didn’t even give him the chance to try to explain, and I know what he saw…us kissing…it must have hurt him, and I…”

  My voice trailed off as my throat closed up, partly because thinking of the look on Dominic’s face when he’d interrupted me and Spencer earlier made me feel horrible, and partly because I could feel Spencer’s glower burning holes in the top of my head. He knew what I was doing, and he wasn’t happy about it. I wasn’t particularly happy about it either, sure that of anyone I knew, Spencer would understand…

  But first I had to make sure I understood.

  I wasn’t sure I could.

  I was a Grey Witch. The part that Jasmine had tactfully left out in her explanations was that a Grey witch could only be the product of a union between a Light warlock and a Dark witch. Never a Dark warlock and a Light witch—for some reason, that only ever produced stillborn babies. Only a Dark witch could carry a Grey witch foetus the full nine months without a miscarriage. And then, in one hundred per cent of cases, the Dark witch mother died in childbirth. Every. Single. Time.

  I’d had a mother. My mother had died in a car crash, with my father, when I was six.

  That meant the woman I’d thought was my mother was not my biological mother, and I didn’t know how to handle that just yet.

  “Tilly,” Spencer said softly, and I blinked. I looked up at him, so darkly handsome in the shadows of the trees. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” he murmured, his fingers sliding up my wrist.

  A shiver ran through me, my skin tingling under his butterfly-light touch. I pulled my hand back carefully, nodding without breaking his gaze. “I know,” I whimpered. “And I will. Just…not yet.”

  Spencer dropped his hand, nodded once in understanding. “You know where to find me when you’re ready to tell me.” He leaned forward swiftly, placing a feather-soft kiss on my forehead, and then turned and strode quickly away into the trees.

  I watched his tense shoulders disappear between branches, and then I let out a sigh that made my ribs ache. I turned toward the cabins reluctantly. I had to find Dominic, and I had no idea where he was or if he would even want to talk to me, but there was one person who might be able to lend me a hand.

  Chapter Twenty

  ** Tilly **

  “Desmond,” I said, and he lifted his head, looking distinctly surprised to see me. I found Dominic’s brother outside his father’s cabin, chopping blocks of wood and hefting a heavy steel bladed axe as if it weighed nothing. He was shirtless, his lightly bronzed skin covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and I got the impression he’d been at it for a while. Considering there was a good supply of firewood stocked up against the back of every cabin, I assumed he was chopping wood recreationally, rather than as a chore—the werewolf version of a gym workout.

  When he looked up, resting the long wooden handle of the axe against his shoulder, I saw his wavy brown hair was damp and sticking to his forehead and temples. His eyes, so like Dominic’s, lit with not-unwelcoming surprise at the sight of me. His mouth quirked into a narrow half-smile.

  “Hey there, Tilly.”

  I lifted a hand in a wave. “Hey. Have you seen Dominic?”

  Desmond shook his head, pushing his hair back from his face with the hand not holding the axe. I kind of wished he’d put it down, it was making me nervous.

  “Not since he ran through here in a huff a couple hours ago.” As if he’d sensed my nervousness Des smiled ruefully at me and dropped the axe next to the pile of wood he’d hacked up.

  “Ugh,” I groaned, imagining Dominic taking off furiously. He could have been miles away by then if he wanted to be. I’d probably never find him, if he didn’t want to be found. “Do you know where he might be?”

  Picking up his discarded t-shirt from the ground, Desmond wiped his face, and then his hands. He blew out his cheeks and shook his head again. “Not a clue. Somewhere he could blow off steam, probably. In which case, you should stay away.” He gestured at me with his t-shirt.

  I blinked. “Me?” I squeaked, “Why should—”

  “A: because you’re human...mostly. And an angry werewolf is not something you want to face, especially when it’s Dominic having a tantrum.” Des snorted, rolling his very green eyes. He slung his t-shirt over his shoulder, his fingers picking idly at the collar of it as he spoke. He tilted his head down, giving me a disturbing
ly canny look. “And B,” he added, “Because he likely isn’t going to want to see you for bit. Better to let him calm down first, and he’ll come to you, probably bubbling with apologies.” He raised an eyebrow meaningfully, folding his arms across his bare chest.

  I stared at him for a second, and then looked down, ashamed and embarrassed. “He told you what happened?” I asked softly. No doubt half the pack would know, and God, what would they think of me? What would happen if they all knew Spencer and I had feelings for each other? Would they keep us apart? I didn’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have Spencer to talk to. And if Dominic didn’t forgive me, I wouldn’t have him either.

  With a short chuckle, Des said, “I guessed.”

  I had to repress a sigh of relief. So the pack didn’t know. Only Desmond did. Startled, I asked, “How?”

  “I know my brother,” he said with a half shrug. Then with a wry smile, he added, “And believe it or not, I know a little bit about Spencer too. It’s obvious to anyone paying attention that Spence likes you. I’ve never seen him spend so much time around anyone else before. And the whole pack knows Dom has a thing for you… except Dad. He’d freak if he knew.” Desmond grimaced, his gaze turning inward somewhat.

  I wondered what he was thinking of. Eyeing him with cautious suspicion, I muttered, “Your dad’s not real tolerant of relationships, huh?” My tone wasn’t that bitter. It was just that I was maybe a little peeved at the idea that Spencer should be forbidden to be with me, just because I wasn’t a werewolf. I was an honorary member of the pack, shouldn’t that count for something? I’d saved his life more than once, saved all their lives. Surely that counted!