Leisl Leighton - [Pack Bound 01]

by Pack Bound (epub)

  Harrison, through Shelley, shouted one final harsh word. The air exploded outward—if it hadn’t been for his grip in the plaster, Jason would have been slammed against the wall in the hallway.

  Then the wind was gone. He saw a bilious green curtain of something that looked like water filling the entrance to the drawing room. He could see through the portal to the room beyond and knew that if Skye had been pushed through here, she would have seen Ferris. His heart ached for her loss. ‘Come on,’ he said to Adam, who still had his arms wrapped around Shelley.

  ‘I can’t. She’s about to pass out.’

  Jason saw Shelley’s face was now grey, her lips blue and the gold in her eyes swirled sluggishly.

  ‘Hurry,’ she croaked.

  Adam looked torn. Jason could understand. It went against the grain to leave behind someone who was injured, when they had become one of their own.

  ‘You heard Harrison. We have to go through now or his sacrifice will be for nothing.’

  ‘I’ll take her. You go,’ Bron said, edging forward to pull Shelley’s floppy, just conscious form from Adam’s reluctant arms.

  ‘Save them,’ Shelley whispered, and this time it was her voice, not Harrison’s.

  Adam touched her face. ‘We will, kitten.’

  Jason gripped her hand. ‘We will.’

  He turned and stepped through the portal, knowing Adam was right at his heels.

  ***

  Skye wished she could reach for River. If she was going to die, she wanted to do it holding onto her twin. They’d come into life wrapped around each other, it seemed only right they should go out the same way. But because of Alfrere’s hold on her through Morrigan’s magic, she couldn’t move her arms or her legs.

  She wished she could fight him, punch him, break those fingers that hurt her as they caressed her skin. Instead, she could only swallow down the bile that rose in her throat as he exerted control over her body, making it throb and ache with desire.

  He caressed her with the athamé, whispering words that made her want to vomit.

  She wished for the pain in her leg again—the pain helped her to keep her mind separate from what he was doing to her body—but her leg was curiously numb. And whatever part of the spell her grandpa had bound her with seemed not to work any more. She longed for that pain to slice through her mind, cutting out all other thoughts.

  As if answering the wish, the places on her skin where the darkened splinters of her grandpa’s spirit had hit her began to throb. The throbbing grew into a cutting cold, so icy it burned. That burn slipped down her body, towards the injury in her leg.

  They are coming, Skye.

  ‘Grandpa?’ she sobbed.

  Alfrere’s head whipped up to pin her with his black glare. ‘What did you say, little puppet?’

  Don’t tell him you hear me. I’m no longer a spirit without. I’m within you.

  ‘Answer me, puppet. What did you say?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Alfrere smiled up at her, skimming his body along hers until he hovered, his face inches from her own. ‘Your beloved grandpa can’t help you now. I destroyed him. Nobody can help you now. You are mine.’ He licked the side of her face. Her body trembled and she almost threw up.

  Fight him, Skye. You have the power to resist his desire. Concentrate on the cold burn. It’s my power inside of you.

  Can you help me to control myself?

  No. I’m too weak. But when Shelley and Bron healed you with blood magic, it infused their Wiccan power into your wound and it’s still there. I’m trying to tap into that.

  How will that help?

  Morrigan is using a power designed to cling to your witch magic. If we can only tap into the wisps of Wiccan power your friends used on you, then we might be able to get around her spell.

  The ice-cold burn in her leg intensified and she almost cried out. She bit it back. She couldn’t let Alfrere know what was happening inside her.

  That’s right, love. Be strong. Jason is coming. He’s following your bond. Stay open to it, and hold on.

  Jason was coming!

  Strengthened by that knowledge, she managed to curl her fingers into a fist, to fight against the insidious desire Alfrere’s roaming hands created.

  I think I’ve bonded with it, but I’m too weak to do much else. You must concentrate on the cold burn and let it seep into you. Allow it to travel up and over your body. Coat yourself in it. Can you do that?

  I will try.

  Concentrating on the cold burn, she did as her grandpa had asked. It was hard. Her body fought the feel of alien magic. But it was working. The desire that trembled over her skin at Alfrere’s touch was turning to twitching shivers of revulsion.

  Skye? Where are you? Lead me to you. Give me your mind.

  Jason, she cried in her head. Jason, find me.

  I’m coming, Skye. We’re almost there. Fight them.

  I’m trying. But he is so strong.

  Try harder. If you can’t fight for yourself, fight for River. Fight for me. I love you.

  I love you too.

  Wrapping her grandpa’s power mixed with Shelley’s and Bron’s around her, she tore her curled fist off the cold slab of stone, and lashed out.

  Her punch connected, catching Alfrere in the temple. He fell sideways, but caught himself before he fell off the altar. Eyes blazing, he stared at her.

  ‘How did you do that?’

  She hit him again, knocking him to the floor. She rolled off the other side of the altar and tried to stand.

  Alfrere leapt over the altar, grabbing her. They fell. Her head smacked against stone. Stars whirled before her eyes, but fury and the desire for revenge kept her conscious. She slapped at him, raising her legs to kick, clawing at his chest, his face, his eyes.

  The mix of magic from Harrison, Shelley and Bron strengthened the more she thought of Jason’s words. I love you. Fight for me.

  Yes. She would fight for him. She would fight to see him one more time, even if she could never truly be his. He had to have children for the strength of the pack. And if she got through this, she would make certain that happened. With Shelley’s and Bron’s gift shimmering through her, it seemed possible.

  She pushed at Alfrere, screaming as he tried to hold her down. He fought back, but she was a rampaging fury of hands and legs and teeth. ‘You will not have me. You will not kill my brother.’

  She managed to get her legs under him and kicked out. He went flying off her and smashed against the cavern wall. Triumph and hope speared through her. She sat up, grabbing at the athamé that had fallen from Alfrere’s hands.

  ‘No, no, no, dearie,’ Morrigan tutted, returning to the room. She flicked her hand and Skye slammed back on the altar, the athamé knocked from her hand.

  ‘No!’ Skye screamed, trying to harness the Harrison-Bron-Shelley power to fight the iron-clad magic that held her down again. But fear and pain and weakness washed over her, slapping the harnessed power aside like it was a bothersome fly.

  Morrigan leered at her. ‘You are no match for me, dear. No matter that you are the last of the Colliere line with all their vaunted powers. You don’t know how to use it or release it. Your grandparents did me such a wonderful favour there. Without the use of your powers, you are nothing.’

  No, Skye. Don’t listen to her. You have the ability to channel power—your own or anyone else’s. If that wasn’t the case, Shelley’s and Bron’s magic wouldn’t still be in your skin. Follow the channel to your friends. Tap into them and use them. Bypass that bitch’s control over your power.

  Morrigan’s delighted laugh skittered across Skye’s senses as she tried to take in what her grandpa was saying.

  ‘You don’t even understand you’re doing this to yourself, do you? Without your power to tap into, mine wouldn’t be enough.’ She leaned in closer, her spittle hitting Skye’s cheek. ‘You don’t deserve such power. That’s why, very soon, it will be mine.’

  Now, Skye. Do it now.
/>
  Something’s blocking me.

  It’s that goddamned spell I placed on you. We have to get rid of it.

  I don’t know how.

  Morrigan slapped her. ‘Pay attention when I’m talking to you.’

  Skye’s eyes burned as she glared at Morrigan. ‘I’ll pay attention when you’ve got something interesting to say.’

  Morrigan slapped her again. Skye’s head spun but she welcomed the pain. It was sharp and bright and brought clarity. She curled her fist, but Morrigan didn’t notice. She’d already turned away, gesturing to Alfrere, who was pushing groggily to his feet.

  ‘Now. Stop playing with her, Alfrere, and do your job. It’s time.’

  ‘No!’ Skye yelled as Morrigan picked up the knife and went to stand beside River. ‘Don’t touch him.’

  Morrigan pursed her lips into a moue. ‘Why not? He’s going to die anyway. What my people shot him with all those years ago when they tried to capture you has kept his beast caged until he is virtually vibrating with the supressed power of the change. Even without the Curse in effect, that power will curdle his brain, turning him rabid. But while he can’t use his Were power, I can.’

  She ran the knife down River’s naked chest. Blood welled in its wake.

  ‘No!’ Skye screamed, struggling against the invisible bonds.

  Jason, she begged. Hurry! But she couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t feel anything except the desperate need to save her brother. Pushing harder than she’d ever pushed before, she pulled the strange thin cloak of her friends’ magic tighter around herself and tore at the power holding her down. It released ever so slightly for a fraction of a second and in that second, she managed to roll over to her side.

  Morrigan gestured again, and Skye slammed back onto the table, breath driven from her. She gasped, her lungs feeling like they were about to explode. Every bruise and cut and burn ached and stung as Morrigan used her own power against her, pressing on her, pinning her to the table and making her a victim once again.

  ‘You are weak and stupid and gullible,’ Morrigan cackled. Alfrere joined in with her laugh as he came to stand beside her. ‘You have no idea how to undo what you’ve done to yourself. Alfrere, disrobe. It’s time.’

  Skye struggled against the invisible bonds holding her down as Alfrere removed his pants and climbed on top of her, positioning himself between her spread legs, his engorged penis lying against her thigh.

  Oh, God! She was about to be raped, both physically and mentally, and her twin murdered. She had to do something.

  Morrigan’s words echoed in her head. You have no idea how to undo what you have done to yourself.

  Then Jason’s voice shouted in her mind, Cordy’s spell! Use Cordy’s spell!

  His words were an arrow through her heart, because that would be an answer except … I can’t.

  Why not?

  It could kill you.

  What does that matter? If you and River die tonight, then so will I. The pack will die soon after me, and it will all be for nothing. You have to survive. There’s no other choice. So use the fucking spell, Skye. Do it. Now.

  He was right. If she and River survived tonight, then Jason and the pack would have a chance only if she could find a way to bind another witch to them.

  She had no choice. She had to use the spell.

  The piece of paper was still in her jeans pocket, but she didn’t need it—she’d read the words and now, when she most needed them, they became a blazing brand in her mind.

  Looking up past Alfrere, tuning out the words Morrigan was chanting over River, she concentrated on the spell and canted out loud:

  ‘I am the wind and the fire, the earth and the rain.

  My power is my own, and will be again.

  My bloodline is sacred, the Colliere’s last child

  An eternal bridge between the magical and the wild

  Restrained no longer, my powers are free

  To be mine to use for eternity

  Three times three times three times three,

  My will is mine, so mote it be.’

  ***

  Shelley took the last bite of the chocolate bar and looked askance as Bron held out the can of Coke.

  Bron’s lips twitched. ‘I know you don’t like it but there wasn’t any juice and you need the sugar, so don’t be a baby.’

  Shelley’s sigh made Bron chuckle. ‘Sorry I’m being such a grouch. You’re the be—’

  Her words cut off, but Bron didn’t really notice, as what felt like a great hand reached inside her, grasping at her essence, and pulled. She stiffened and cried out, dropping the Coke.

  Shelley clasped her head and screamed.

  Bron fell to her knees in front of Shelley. Mouth tight in a grimace—it felt like her insides were being shredded—she pulled Shelley’s hands from her head and screamed, ‘Don’t fight it.’

  ‘What—is—it?’

  ‘Skye. It feels like Skye. She needs us. She’s pulling on the essence of our Wiccan powers. We have to let her have them. This is what Paul saw. What he referred to in his diaries.’

  Shelley clasped Bron’s hands, the grip painful, grounding. ‘Are you sure?’

  Bron nodded. ‘He said, “The friends hold the key.” And there was that spell? It didn’t make sense, but now, I think this is what he meant.’

  Even through the pain, she could see the light of understanding, of acceptance, in Shelley’s eyes. ‘We can help.’

  ‘We can help.’

  Holding hands, they stared into each other’s eyes and said the words they’d argued over earlier that night.

  ‘The Goddess lives, the Goddess falls

  Power shared for the good of all

  To help a friend, bind the power of three

  Our free will given, so mote it be.’

  ***

  Power punched into Jason as he ran across the green of the field silvered by moonlight, following the scent of the only woman he loved. Before he could think about it, he’d changed into his wolf. The golden-rainbow glow beside him told him Adam had changed too.

  Skye had canted the spell! She’d accepted her power as he’d told her to. But it was wild. Uncontrolled. Then something in it changed. More power, alien and yet familiar, pushed forward, linking with Skye’s power, binding it, melding with it.

  Light exploded in his mind and he faltered with the impact. In his mind, alongside Skye’s Pack Witch bond, he saw two more bond threads spring into existence, a brilliant orange and a vibrant purple.

  Bron and Shelley.

  Somehow, they were now linked to the pack. He had no idea how Skye had managed to do it, or how Shelley and Bron managed to maintain the links—it should be impossible—but there they were, as bright as day in a terrifying night. Two threads that were the saviours of his pack.

  Howling at the moon above him, he surged forward with even more speed than before, his brother echoing his howl of triumph and revenge at his side as he too saw the new bonds form.

  The pack might be safe, but Skye and her twin were still in mortal danger. He must save them or the joy of what had been given would turn into a grief that would never end.

  Chapter 21

  Fire bloomed inside Skye’s chest, but it wasn’t the cold fire of her grandpa and it wasn’t the hot, burning fire from Morrigan’s poison. It was her own.

  Her own power, but mixed, changed. And for the first time, she was in control of it.

  It filled her until she felt its magnificence, tasted it, smelled the freshness of rain, the tang of the fire, the wildness of the wind, the deep musk of the earth.

  She wasn’t just the fire.

  She was everything.

  The power pressing her down, those invisible manacles, seemed suddenly insignificant. Too easily, she used her new awareness to blow it away.

  Alfrere’s eyes widened above her and then he screamed, slapping at his skin as blue fire skated across it.

  She heard Morrigan cry out.

  There was a
growl from beside her as River sat up. Then a growling howl from the other side of the room. A large gold and silver wolf leaped in front of her, its jaws angled to grasp Alfrere by the throat. His scream cut off in a gurgling cry. The copper tang of blood touched the air.

  The green-blue tinge of lightning brightened the darkness of the cave. Sitting up, Skye saw Morrigan facing a large pitch-black wolf. Lightning snapped out of the ancient witch’s fingertips, aimed at the wolf. He dived aside. The gold and silver wolf joined him, his snarling muzzle covered in blood.

  ‘No! No!’ Morrigan screamed as she backed away, her lightning keeping the wolves at bay, hitting the walls, bringing down dirt and rocks between her and them.

  A golden blaze sparked to light to Skye’s left. But it sputtered, broken by darkness.

  She turned to see what it was and she gasped. Russet-coloured fur covered his chest and face, his hands were curved into vicious claws and his mouth and nose were pointed in a muzzle. Lips curling back over glistening sharp teeth, he snarled and leapt forward. He’d changed, but only halfway.

  ‘Oh, God. River!’

  He turned back to look at her, his hazel eyes fogged by pain, his muzzle twisted by the scars marring the left side of his face. Then he turned back to Morrigan and leapt towards her, swiping with his clawed hand.

  ‘No!’ Morrigan screamed, sending a blaze of power towards River. The lash of fire barely missed him as he dived sideways. Gaining his feet, he turned to leap at Morrigan again. Her fire lashed at the ceiling. There was a loud explosion and large chunks of rock rained down.

  River yelped and collapsed under the fall.

  ‘River!’ Skye screamed. She aimed her power at Morrigan. A burst of wind hit the ancient witch and she was flung against the wall with a nasty crack. Floppy as a rag doll, she fell to the floor. Skye turned her attention to her twin.

  River! River, answer me! she pleaded through the twin bond. He didn’t move. Fear scarred her throat. Was he dead? Had she failed to save him?

  Panic, guilt and grief whirled inside her, a maelstrom that only grew stronger, feeding into her power, flipping the switch until it was a roaring hurricane. She tried to move towards him, but power snapped and snarled around her, fear and anger lending it weight. She seemed bound to the altar where her life had almost ended, where her power, hidden and cowed into almost non-existence, was finally let free. And it wasn’t about to be reined in so easily. Not even to check on her brother.