‘What do you mean?’
‘I have his diaries. I have all the Pack Witch Diaries. If you come back with me, you can read them. See for yourself that what I’m telling you is true.’ He held out his hand. ‘My house is close. All you need to do is come with me.’
Skye stared at his hand, trembling.
‘Please come. You’ll see I’m telling the truth. You can even read Bridgette Colliere’s diary. You’re related to her, you know. Her blood flows through your veins. She was a remarkable witch. In fact, there hasn’t been a witch as strong as her until you.’
‘No. No. That’s not true. It can’t be true,’ she breathed, holding her hands out to ward him off. Fire flared from her fingers. ‘My power. It’s evil. It can’t be used for good.’
Bron shook her head. ‘That’s bullshit. Your magic isn’t dark. It’s so full of light it fills me with wonder. It always has. If it hadn’t been like that, Shelley and I would never have been drawn to you in the first place.’
‘Who told you it was evil?’
‘My grandpa. My grandmother.’
‘They lied.’
Skye’s mind spun as she shook her head. ‘No. They didn’t. They wouldn’t.’
‘Harrison. A little help here?’ Shelley said, talking to the air.
Skye heard a sigh in her ear and then, They’re right. We lied.
‘What?’
I needed to ensure you never broke out of the binding of the spell. I had no idea about your necessity to the Were or I might have done things differently. I had no idea the power transfer was symbiotic. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you with your own power. I didn’t understand.
‘But why? Why would you lie about that? Why didn’t you tell me about my history?’ The flame on her fingers died as hurt and betrayal swept over her.
Morrigan never wanted you to know about the pack. She’d escaped from what she saw as an eternity of slavery and she didn’t want you tied to that too. But aside from all that, we hid the memories of them from you because it was too dangerous to take you back.
As he spoke, Skye was aware of Shelley whispering in the background, telling the others what she was hearing.
Jason’s pack couldn’t save your parents from the rogue coven. There was no way we were taking a chance with your safety too. But I didn’t understand. I think you need them, Skye, just like they need you. All you have to do is open your mind to your memories and you will see it is so. But finally, if you don’t believe me, ask Morrigan. She’ll tell you. She’s been avoiding you because she’s afraid. But if you ask, she’ll tell you.
Skye shook her head, the pain increasing as her grandpa spoke. She couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t take in what she was being told.
‘I need to go.’
‘You can’t go, Skye,’ Jason said. ‘I need to tell you about the Curse. It’s obvious it’s affected River if he’s never made the change, and it’s only going to get worse. But if you learn to use your power—’
She turned to him and pinned him with her stare. ‘I know what you said, and I want to believe you. I do. But I hurt him with my power. I made him worse—’ She pressed her hands to her forehead as the pain spiked.
‘Are you okay?’ Shelley asked softly.
‘You don’t look good, honey,’ Bron commented.
‘I don’t feel very good.’ She stood, stumbled. Jason went to grab her to steady her, but she shied away. ‘Don’t.’ She grasped her head with one hand, holding out her other hand to ward him off. She knew what she was capable of, what she’d done. If he touched her, it would tip her over the edge she was precariously balancing on.
She had to leave before she fell over the edge and did anything worse.
With jerky movements, she made her way around the bed towards the door, then stopped. ‘Where are my shoes?’
Bron handed her some sneakers. She shoved her feet into them and turned to the door.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I think you need to lie down.’
She ignored them, making her way past them and out the door. Her shoulder hit the door frame and she almost toppled, but she caught herself against the wall and kept going.
The others trailed after her.
She grabbed her keys out of the bowl at the front door and opened it, staggering onto the porch and down the front stairs to her car.
‘Skye, honey. I don’t think you should drive.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘To see Morrigan.’
As she hopped in the car she heard Adam ask, ‘Who’s Morrigan?’
‘Skye’s grandmother.’
‘But her grandmother is dead.’
Her movements hitched as she heard that, but then she took a breath. Morrigan wasn’t dead. That lie put in question everything else they’d told her—including what they’d said about River. Because if it was true, and she was supposed to save him, then she knew he was truly in danger—she couldn’t do what they wanted. They didn’t understand.
Her powers killed. They didn’t heal.
She was about to close the door but Jason’s voice stopped her.
‘Skye, please. Say something.’
She didn’t look at him—couldn’t look at him, knowing it would be too much for her right now. Despite her fear over what he was, she still felt the pull of attraction that went beyond all reason. He said it was because he was her Alpha—whatever that meant. He also said she was their Pack Witch. It sounded like he was claiming her.
She didn’t want to be claimed. Couldn’t be claimed.
She closed the door, started the car, then drove away without answering him.
There was only one person she could speak to now—the person who’d been avoiding her over the last few weeks. She just hoped Morrigan could help make sense out of a life that had suddenly fallen into chaos.
Chapter 13
Skye drove through the slowly opening gates, past the lions mounted like sentinels on the twelve-foot wall and up the sweeping circular drive to the front door.
Thinking about what she was here for, she shivered as she rang the bell. She was either about to find out that everything she’d believed in had been a lie, or her dearest friends had betrayed her.
A sensation ran down her spine akin to someone running their hand in a sensuous glide along her skin. She knew she was being watched, but unlike the sensation she’d experienced over the last few weeks, this didn’t feel intrusive. Even so, she turned, looking out into the garden, trying to pierce the gloom created by the storm clouds.
She couldn’t see anyone, but as before, she knew someone was there.
She peered for a moment longer into the shadow, lips pursed, and then turned back to the front door, hugging her arms around her. She wished she’d put on some warmer clothes. The sky was bright and clear as only a spring morning could be after a day of storms, but it was still cold and frost lay on the ground. ‘Come on Ferris, open the door.’ She jigged on the spot, wishing she hadn’t been so stubborn now about giving back her key years ago.
The door opened.
‘Hello, Ferris,’ she breathed in relief.
‘Miss. Madame Cantrae received your friend’s call. She is waiting for you in the drawing room.’ His smile was as politely correct as always, but his warm brown eyes invited her in.
She tensed her fingers around the strap of her handbag and hesitated. She suddenly didn’t want to enter. Did she really want to hear she’d been lied to and betrayed by those who should have cared for her the most?
‘Are you coming in, miss?’
‘I—’
‘Oh good, you’re here.’
Morrigan Cantrae sauntered into the foyer looking nowhere near how a woman of seventy was supposed to look, with her soft auburn hair, her sparkling green eyes—Skye’s eyes—and her flawless smooth skin with hardly a wrinkle in sight. Dressed in dove grey pants and a crisp white shirt with a colourful triangle of a paisley scarf draped over her shoulders and pearls
at her neck and ears, she was poised and sophisticated and far more beautiful than Skye had ever felt in her life.
‘Why are you standing in the doorway? Come in. You’re letting in a draught.’
Skye took a faltering step forward, then another. Ferris closed the door at her back with a quiet snip.
‘Ferris, ask Cook to prepare tea and a plate of those lemon biscuits she baked for River.’
Ferris bowed and said, ‘As you wish, madame.’ He turned away, his face serious, but as he passed Skye, he winked and smiled. She smiled back even though it was the last thing she felt like. The stress of the last twenty-four hours was starting to be felt in aching muscles and a sense of doom. But she didn’t want Ferris to know there was anything wrong. She didn’t want to worry him.
When he disappeared through the door to the back of the house, Skye turned to her grandmother.
‘You’ve been avoiding me. Why?’
‘That’s no way to greet your beloved grandmother.’ Morrigan held out her hands in an imperious gesture. Skye wanted to ignore the silent command, but as always, obligation and duty made her stumble forward.
Morrigan greeted her in the French way, a kiss to either cheek, her lips barely touching Skye’s skin. Skye breathed in the scents of Morrigan’s favourite Chanel No 5 perfume and the sweet scent of the roses that lingered on Morrigan’s hands. Grandpa had planted dozens of rose bushes around the house for Morrigan and at this time of the year, her grandmother picked and arranged the flowers herself, a ritual left over from the days when Harrison Cantrae had been alive and insisted on the splashes of colour they brought to the otherwise stark white palette of the house.
That scent on Morrigan made Skye’s chest ache with the thought of all she’d lost and all she was about to lose when she heard the truth of her past. She swallowed hard as she stepped back, forcing a smile to her mouth. ‘Hello, Gran.’
Morrigan’s lips twitched, obviously annoyed at Skye’s less than respectful tone. But she didn’t reprimand her, she just stepped aside. ‘Come into the drawing room. There’s much to discuss.’
The fear Skye had been fighting rose up to swamp her. She needed to do something normal; find some calm in this sea of nauseating turmoil. ‘I’d like to see River.’
‘I don’t think that would be a good idea right now.’ Morrigan paused and clasped her hands together, concern furrowing her brow. ‘Your brother had another episode.’
Skye gritted her teeth. ‘Why didn’t you let me know?’
‘It only happened this morning, about an hour or so ago. And quite frankly, my dear, we were too busy dealing with him to think of giving you a call. You can be so egocentric sometimes. It astonishes me.’
Skye noticed the uncertainty and fear flickering in her grandmother’s eyes, her face pale under her perfect make-up. Her eyes narrowed. ‘You never want me to see him when he’s had an episode. Is it because he’s Were and you’re afraid he’ll change in front of me and I’ll remember everything you took from me?’
Morrigan reeled back as if she’d been hit. ‘Where did you hear that word?’ she whispered in a voice so full of terror it made Skye tremble.
‘So, it’s true what they told me?’
‘Who? Who told you?’
‘Jason McVale and his brother, Adam.’
Morrigan glanced at the front door, her lips trembling. ‘They’ve found you? What did they say?’
‘They said I was their … Pack Witch? They need me to use my powers to change a curse and save them.’
‘No.’ Morrigan shook her head. ‘The Curse shouldn’t have been triggered. You’re safe. There would be no reason for it to activate.’
‘Well, Jason said it has. He told me I was the only one who could break it—right before he turned into a wolf in front of me.’ She shivered. ‘It was terrifying.’
Morrigan turned away for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. ‘When did this happen?’
‘This morning.’
Morrigan closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. ‘That would explain what happened to River. He must have felt your terror and acted out.’
‘Gran. Morrigan!’ Skye grabbed her grandmother. ‘Are you telling me something is wrong with the blocking spell? That River can feel me through the twin bond again?’
‘Yes. That’s precisely what I’m saying. Something has changed in the spell ever since you came back from the snow.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘When did you meet Jason McVale?’
‘At the snow.’
Morrigan blew out a breath. ‘Well, that would explain the change.’
Skye, shoulders tensed, said, ‘Explain what? Grandpa said—’
‘Your grandpa?’ Morrigan looked around her, eyes wide. ‘Is he here?’
I am. Although, it’s difficult to come through even though the spell isn’t working right.
‘Harrison!’ Morrigan sobbed. ‘Oh, Harrison, thank the Goddess you’re back.’
Skye’s head spun. ‘You can hear him?’
Morrigan turned back to face her, her green eyes steely. ‘I am a descendent of one of the most powerful witches ever known, and while my powers never truly manifested—a fact I was never allowed to forget because it made me useless to the pack—I could always commune with the dead.’ She clasped her hands against quivering lips. ‘Thank the Goddess, you’ve come back to me, Harrison.’
‘He hasn’t come back to you. He’s come back to me. To help me and River. They said my power being blocked is hurting my twin. Is that true?”
‘It’s not as simple as that.’
‘Nothing ever is,’ Skye whispered, the words bitter drops on her tongue. ‘Are you going to tell me the truth?’
Morrigan glanced up the stairs. ‘Do you love your brother?’
Skye’s eyes narrowed. ‘What kind of question is that?’
‘The most important kind.’ Morrigan pursed her lips, eyes sparking, waiting for Skye’s response.
Skye stared back at her, hands clenching against the tingling burn, shoulders stiff. ‘He’s the most important thing in my life.’
Morrigan seemed to sag for a moment, as if all the breath had left her. ‘Good. I will tell you the truth, but first there’s someone you have to meet.’
Skye didn’t like her tone. ‘Who?’
‘He is the reason I’ve been avoiding you in the last few days. I was trying to track him down because I knew if what I feared had actually come to pass, we would need his help. And if the McVales have found you, I’m certain my fears aren’t without foundation.’
Skye’s skin crawled with a strange prescience. Her gaze darted to the drawing room’s closed door. ‘Who is here, Gran?’
‘A warlock your grandpa and I used to know.’
Alfrere? Alfrere is here? Why? Have they found us?
Skye watched, astonished, as Morrigan wrung her hands, her gaze darting back towards the front door. ‘I think so. I think they’ve been following Skye.’
Skye jerked, shook her head. ‘No. You were having me followed.’
‘I haven’t. I swear I haven’t. It’s our old rogue coven. They’ve tracked you down. They want to use you. But we should be safe here for now. Alfrere’s invoking a spell of protection around the house as we speak.’ She turned back to Skye. ‘He’s here to help. You must come in and meet him.’ Morrigan held out her hand.
Skye looked down at that hand as if each red-tipped nail was dipped in poison.
‘A warlock? You want me to be in the same room as a warlock?’ She jabbed her finger towards the door, and as she did, blue flame sparked out of it, arcing across the space to hit the wall next to the door with a ripping, tearing sound. The burst of power left a scorch mark on the pale antique wallpaper.
Skye stood stock still, gaping at the scorch mark, arm still stretched, finger pointing, blue fire enveloping the tip.
Instead of the shock Skye expected, an expression crossed Morrigan’s face that Skye had never seen before—worry. Genuine worry. F
or her.
‘I was right,’ Morrigan said, staring at the scorch mark. Then, shaking her head, she lifted her chin and gestured to Skye, ‘Come, Skye. You need to meet Alfrere. Your grandpa will come with you too, won’t you, Harrison?’
I will.
Skye hesitated.
‘You need our help. This is bigger than what Jason McVale led you to believe. There’s much he doesn’t know.’ She put out her hand.
Shaking and unsteady on her feet, Skye reached out and took Morrigan’s hand. Her grandmother guided her into the lounge room and over to the fireplace. A man turned to face them.
His light grey eyes were crinkled with kind concern, his once dark hair liberally sprinkled with grey. He was tall and perhaps had been well built when younger, but had grown softer with age, a slight paunch showing under his impeccable blue wool three-piece suit. He had a firm mouth and jaw and was still handsome in a Robert Redford, life-lived kind of way.
Alfrere!
‘Harrison? Is that you?’
In the flesh. A chuckle. Well, not so much flesh. But I’m here as much as I can be, although it’s not easy. I have trouble staying for long.
‘Of course. The blocking spell. It’s remarkable you’re able to manifest yourself at all. I always said you were a strong one.’
Not as strong as our Skye.
Alfrere turned, his gaze arrowing in on Skye, grey eyes assessing.
Skye. This is my old friend, Alfrere Juneau. Alfrere, this is Skye.
Skye eyed him warily, feeling a bit like Alice when she walked through the looking glass into another world. ‘Why isn’t the spell going ballistic? If he’s a warlock, shouldn’t there be a screech of warning in my head?’
‘Alfrere helped us when we needed it most. Knowing one day we might need his help again, we excluded his essence from the spell.’
Skye shook her head, unable to comprehend what they said. It was impossible. Warlocks were dangerous. He was dangerous—she could feel the power of him like a thousand bugs crawling over her skin. And yet here he stood, in Morrigan’s house, an invited guest.
You can trust him. He helped us save you and River. Her grandpa’s voice, a warm puff next to her ear, didn’t allay her fear. Instead, his words made her psyche fracture a little more.
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