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Water Witch

Page 29

by Carol Goodman


  “The fey recognized how dangerous they were,” Soheila said. “They were mating with humans, creating a race of heartless monsters. They would have destroyed the human race.”

  “Which would have been very inconvenient for those of you who fed on humans,” Duncan snarled. “That is why the fey imprisoned us. But now we are free and once the door closes there will be no one to stop us.”

  “I won’t let you close it,” I said, and then repeated the words of the heart binding spell.

  Duncan’s lips curved into a slow, sensual smile. He ran the tip of his claw down my throat and in between my breasts. I took another step back from him, still repeating the words of the spell, appalled that I’d ever let this creature touch me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bill step toward us.

  “Are you sure, Cailleach?” Duncan asked smoothly. “I’d rather keep you alive. I’ve enjoyed our time together, despite your reserve. I’m sure we could break through that in time.”

  A growl came from Bill that wasn’t entirely human.

  “I’d rather die,” I snarled, and then repeated the spell, louder now. QUAM COR MEA APERIT, TAM IANUA APERIT!

  “Ah,” Duncan said. “A heart binding spell. How clever of you. But surely you read the caution in Wheelock? The best way to disarm a heart binding spell …” he lifted his hand, one claw poised in the air as if he were making a point, “… is to stop the heart of the doorkeeper.”

  I felt the disturbance of air as his claw descended in a violent swoop toward my throat. I raised my hand to ward off the blow and felt his claw slice through my flesh. His hand raised again and I saw the flash of gold tipped claws coming toward me, but then something moved in between us. It was Bill riding a stream of moonlight that moved fast as quicksilver. He pushed me aside and took the blow meant for me. He fell to his knees, his hand to his neck. I fell beside him, my hand meeting his over the gaping wound in his throat.

  “Bill!”

  Hot blood poured over our joined hands. He looked down at it, surprise widening his eyes. “Callie, look! I’m human. That must mean you …” He slumped in my arms and fell across the threshold of the door, his blood spilling on the wet ground with the last beats of his now human heart.

  “Bill!” I cried, cradling his face in my hands. For a moment I saw Liam’s face superimposed over Bill’s, then the face of the incubus I’d seen in Faerie, and then just plain Bill. The man who had fixed my roof, removed a splinter from my hand telling me he was sorry he’d hurt me, and who had made love to me the last two nights. The man I finally understood I loved a moment too late.

  I looked up at the winged creature above us and felt something break inside me. The last ward inside me shattered in a million pieces. Maybe it was because I finally understood that I loved Bill – or maybe it was the clarity of hating Duncan – that burned them away. I felt the last coil unwind around my heart and my full power surge in its wake. I stood and held up my arms. A great wind roared through the glade, knocking all the humans in the glade to the ground. Even Duncan stumbled backward a few feet, but he held his ground and started to laugh.

  “Ah, so you’ve discovered your power, little witch. It won’t be long until you join us. I’m glad I won’t have to kill you after all. It looks like a drop of your blood mingled with the blood of one who loved you is all the blood sacrifice needed to close the door.”

  I turned and saw Bill’s body dissolving into light. When he was gone the door filled with a red-gold glow and then exploded into a fireball. The force of the explosion rocked the earth and knocked me off my feet. I felt myself hurtling backward through space – and then I felt nothing at all.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  WHEN I CAME to, Mac Stewart and Frank were kneeling beside me.

  “Thank goodness, she’s alive,” Mac cried.

  “Of course she’s alive. It takes more than a firebomb to take this girl out. Right, McFay? And you didn’t really need those eyebrows.”

  My hands flew to my face. My skin felt hot to the touch and suspiciously smooth above my eyes. I sat up and looked around the grove. The ground was scorched black, the honeysuckle trees grey skeletons against a smoky sky. A wraith-like creature in a long tattered dress appeared out of the smoke and hurried toward us. I thought it was the angel of death until she got closer and I saw it was Soheila, her face covered with soot. She held a dripping piece of cloth in her hands. “From the Undine spring,” she said, pressing the cold wet cloth to my face. “It will heal you.”

  “What happened to everyone?” I asked. I shuddered, recalling the claws that had ripped through Bill’s throat. I didn’t ask where Bill was. I had seen him vanish before the door closed. I would never see him again.

  “The Stewarts helped anyone who was injured to the hospital,” Frank told me. “The two pipers who were by the door were badly hurt. The Grove have beat a tactical retreat along with the nephilim …” Frank hung his head. “I’m sorry, Callie. I thought the spell would be enough to destroy them.”

  “You couldn’t have known how powerful they’ve become,” Soheila said. “They said they’d be back in the morning to discuss the ‘new administration.’ I think they plan to take over the college.”

  “We won’t let them,” I said, pushing the wet cloth away and struggling to my feet. “We’ll fight them …” Frank and Soheila each grabbed an arm as I started to sway.

  “I’m afraid we’re not strong enough. All our people have been sent away.” Soheila looked longingly toward the charred remains of the doorway.

  “Nonsense,” Frank said. “Did you see McFay knock that nephilim bastard back on his ass?”

  “I think I budged him a couple of inches,” I said. “I finally got rid of the wards on my power. If you two will work with me, maybe I can learn to use that power.”

  “What do you mean two?” Mac said, hurt in his voice. “I can help. And my family too. The nephilim are the ancient enemy of the Stewarts. We were able to hold back two of them and it was my Nan who gave Mr. Delmarco the spell, wasn’t it Mr. Delmarco?”

  “Yes, Mac, it was. Your grandmother once told me your family had encountered the nephilim before. We’ll welcome the Stewarts help. We’ll have to rally everyone who’s left – the witches, the vampires …”

  “There were some creatures that went underground,” Soheila said. “That chose to exist without Aelvesgold rather than leave this world.” She looked toward the door as if realizing for the first time that she was in the same predicament. Without Aelvesgold, she would begin to fade – unless she went to the nephilim to get it. I didn’t think Soheila would do that but I wondered how many of the fey left behind would be tempted in the coming years. Frank glanced from Soheila to me, perhaps thinking the same thing.

  “Do you think you’d be able to open the door?” he asked.

  I stepped toward the smoking ruin where the door had been and knelt down, placing my hands on the charred ground where Bill’s blood, mingled with mine, had been spilled. I tried to feel a remnant of his spirit, but felt nothing. I tried to feel some connection to that other world, but even the memory of Faerie seemed to be draining away from my mind as swiftly as Bill’s blood had soaked into the ground. I had bound my heart to the door and when I finally realized that I loved Bill and watched him die for me, my heart had broken in a million pieces – and so had the door.

  “No,” I said. “There’s no door here anymore. It’s gone.”

  We walked back through the woods, making our way slowly over the charred smoking ruins of the honeysuckle thicket. Frank and Soheila walked on either side of me, supporting me. The blast had scorched the whole forest. There wasn’t a trace of Faerie left in the woods. I was weaker than I first realized, drained by that explosion of power inside me. Frank and Soheila discussed what they each knew about the nephilim.

  “We’ll have to find out all we can about them to defeat them,” Frank said, exchanging a look with Soheila that made me want to disappear and leave them alone. They had a lot
to talk about. Still, when we reached Honeysuckle House they both offered to come in with me, but I assured them I was all right and sent them away.

  The first thing I noticed when I opened the front door was the cup of tea Bill had made for me sitting on the foyer table. Holding it up to my nose I smelled Earl Grey with honey, just the way Liam had always made it for me. How could I have not known Bill was the incubus?

  I leaned against the door and cried until the foyer grew dark around me. Eventually Ralph came downstairs, curled up in my lap, and nudged my hand. When I looked down I saw that he was carrying a torn crumpled piece of paper in his mouth. I uncrumpled the paper and saw that it was an illustration of a nephilim torn out of one of my books.

  “That’s why you kept pushing books off the shelves. You were trying to figure out what Duncan was.”

  Ralph squeaked an assent.

  “Well, you got it right, pal, only a little bit too late. Sorry …” I added, seeing his bright eyes looking up at me beseechingly. “We were all too late. Bill is gone …”

  Ralph squeaked and jumped out of my lap, ran a few feet, and then looked over his shoulder at me.

  “Okay, Lassie,” I said managing a weak smile, “take me to Timmie.”

  I got up and followed Ralph. As we climbed the stairs we came to muddy footprints. Ralph paused at them and looked back at me. “Men,” I said. “They never remember to wipe their feet.”

  Ralph squeaked and followed the footprints upstairs where a trail of them led to the front bedroom. To Liam’s old study. I walked slowly down the hall, willing myself not to break into a run, my heart beating, afraid of the hope that was whispering in my ear. He’s come back! Somehow he’s survived and come back! I turned the knob with a shaking hand and opened the door …

  Onto an empty room. I almost sank onto the floor again, but I watched as Ralph scurried across the room and up onto the windowsill where a grey river stone was balanced on the ledge of the open window weighing down a folded sheet of paper that fluttered in the breeze.

  Bill had left me a note!

  I crossed the room and lifted the stone, its cool weight like a balm in my blistered palm.

  Bill had left me a love note!

  But when I opened the note I saw he’d left me something much better. There was a single line on the page. It read:

  There’s another door.

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I am grateful to have a circle of friends as loyal and unique as the ones Callie finds in Fairwick. Thank you to Gary Feinberg, Juliet Harrison, Lauren Lipton, Wendy Rossi, Cathy Seilhan, Scott Silverman, and Nora Slonimsky for reading this book in its awkward fingerling stages. Thanks to my husband, Lee, and daughters, Maggie and Nora, for their patience and encouragement as I travelled into the world of Faerie. Thanks to my editors on both sides of the pond for their continued support of the world of Fairwick—Linda Marrow and Dana Isaacson at Random House and Gillian Green at Ebury. And thanks to the many people at Loretta Barrett books, Random House, and Ebury whose hard work made this book possible.

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

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  Epub ISBN 9781448146604

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  Published in the UK in 2012 by Ebury Press, an imprint of Ebury Publishing A Random House Group Company

  Copyright © 2012 by Carol Goodman

  Carol Goodman has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner

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  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  ISBN 9780091940201

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