Finally he said, “I’m off to bed. Try to get some sleep.” He turned and walked toward the door. At the doorway, he spun back around. “Colina…” He stood there looking at me, uncertainty clear on his face.
All it would take was one smile, one word, and he would be by my side. But I did none of that.
He watched me for a long while until he finally broke the silence. “If you need anything just give a shout. I’m right across the hall.” He turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
After the door closed, I whispered, “Good night.”
I brushed my fingers against my lips. I could still feel the warmth of Luke’s lips pressed against mine. It had been a brief kiss, but it had made my heartbeat quicken. It seemed like such a long time ago that Luke had touched me, kissed me. Such a long time since we’d been in each other’s arms. I desperately missed him and, for the first time, could see past Caleb’s face. The way he moved, the things he said… When I looked into those eyes, I could finally see Luke staring back.
I put away the magazine, turned off the lights, and settled down into bed. As soon as I dozed off, the nightmares started.
Wendy was screaming out my name. She was tied to a chair, her hands and feet bound, struggling to get free. A large dark shape was making its way toward her. I tried to get to her, but terror froze me in place. Wendy saw the shadow and her eyes filled with fear. She shouted at it to stay away, but it kept coming. It reached out and grabbed her, and the air filled with screams of pain. The dark shadow slowly slid inside her. As it did, Wendy’s eyes changed color, getting darker and darker until they were completely black.
An evil smile bloomed on her face as she looked directly at me and said in a voice that was no longer hers, “Soon. Soon we will be free.”
Everything around me went dark. I heard a baby’s plaintive wailing in the distance. I tried to find the baby, but every time I moved in one direction, the crying seemed to come from the opposite way.
And then I was back in the mining town, standing in a room as rubble rained down on Jacob. I could see Jacob’s twisted body under a pile of plywood and plaster. His eyes opened, blood streaming down his face.
He cried out, “Heal me!”
But I knew I couldn’t heal him. I no longer had the light, the serenity, the balance inside me to heal. Only anger and darkness filled me now.
Then Gage stood before me. He reached out and took me in his arms. His breath was heavy against my neck. “I’ve been waiting so long to have you by my side,” he whispered. “You’re mine.” As he said the words, his arms tightened around me.
Discordant music started, and his body began to sway, pulling me along with him. We danced around the room, and then we were somewhere else—in a field of flowers. The smell of red roses filled the air. Gage’s lips were on my shoulder. He gently lowered me down to the ground. I looked up at him and remembered how much I loved him.
He smiled and said, “You’ll always be mine.” His words floated around me as his hands caressed my body.
And then I stood over a grave. The tombstone said LUKE CROSS. I held flowers in my hand; the wildflowers Luke had given me back in the death dealer camp. Dark storm clouds began to slide across the sky. Drops of rain fell, one after another. I opened my hands and watched the flowers float through the air, carried away by the wind. As the flowers fell to the ground, they morphed into red roses. The red petals scattered across the freshly dug grave, and everywhere the petals landed, pools of blood appeared.
I bolted upright in the bed. There were beads of sweat on my forehead. Nightmares. They were only nightmares, I told myself.
A flash of lightning lit up the room, and a few seconds later there was a loud crash of thunder. A storm was raging outside. I pulled the blanket back and got out of bed, moving to the window. Raindrops fell against the glass. There was another flash of lightning and for a second, a dark figure was illuminated. Someone was standing out there in the rain, looking up at my window.
My heart pounded in my chest. Had Darla and her people found us?
Lightning flashed. The figure was still there, but this time I recognized who it was. Luke.
He lifted a hand in greeting, and I raised mine in return.
For a long moment, Luke stood there watching me, and then he turned and walked off into the darkness.
He was out there doing magic to keep them from finding us. Keeping us safe from his family. He’d clearly chosen a side—mine.
Chapter 6
The next day I forced myself out of bed. I shuffled around the room.
Mrs. Olsen must’ve taken my clothes, washed them, and stitched them up. They now lay freshly laundered in a pile at the foot of the bed. I pulled on my jeans and slid on my gray T-shirt. When I was done getting dressed, I collapsed back on the bed. I looked down at my arm. The lines were more vivid now and had moved higher up my arm. Soon they would reach halfway up my forearm.
How much time do I have before the poison travels from my arm to my heart? I pushed the thought away, forced myself back to my feet, and went downstairs.
In the middle of the kitchen table was a large plate with squirrels painted on it. Mrs. Olsen was sliding freshly baked cinnamon buns off of a cookie sheet and onto the plate.
She gave me a smile and nodded toward the stove. “There’s some oatmeal cooking. I made a fresh pot of coffee, or there’s juice, if you prefer.” Her brown hair was pinned carefully up into a neat bun. Today she wore a long black skirt and a white long-sleeved blouse with ruffles at the neck.
Mrs. Olsen put down the empty cookie sheet and picked up a bowl. She stirred the contents of the bowl with a large spoon a few times and then withdrew it—the spoon was covered in white sugar frosting. I watched as she carefully drizzled it across the buns.
“Where is everyone?” I asked.
“Jamie is still sleeping. She had a rough night plagued with awful nightmares.”
She’s not the only one. “And the others?”
“Dean is out feeding the chickens. He offered to do a few chores for me—such a nice boy—and I just saw Luke through the window walking out in the woods.”
I picked up a cinnamon bun. It was still hot; I took a quick bite before dropping it back on the table.
“It’s good,” I said, my mouth still full of the sweet, gooey mixture.
She gave me a wide smile. “I love to bake. It’s nice to have someone to cook for again.” Mrs. Olsen went to the stove and stirred the pot of oatmeal.
I motioned to the door. “I think I’ll go outside for some fresh air.” I picked up a paper napkin from the table and wrapped the cinnamon bun in it.
As I headed out the door, she called out to me. “It’s cool out. You better take a jacket. You can borrow mine.” She pointed to a beige jacket sitting on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Plenty of clouds in the sky. They’re calling for rain again tonight.”
I grabbed the jacket, put the bun in my pocket and walked out of the house. I headed toward the trees about twenty feet away. At the edge of the forest, I pulled out the roll and took another bite. I knew I should eat all of it. I barely had any dinner. But the truth was that I wasn’t hungry. I had only taken a bite of the cinnamon roll to be polite. When I looked at food, I felt nothing but nauseated.
Exhaustion, no appetite… The poison was taking its toll on me. How long before my body began to give out? I looked back at the house and, when I was sure I was no longer visible from the kitchen window, chucked the roll into the bushes.
Luke was nowhere in sight. I was alone in the woods. I looked up into the sky. It was a new day and birds were singing. Despite my condition, I felt a sense of freedom that was stunning. No one was locking me in. No one was using me to do anything horrible. I could go wherever I wanted, do whatever I wanted. For the first time in a long time, I was in control of my life.
After a beat, my shoulders sagged. That was a lie. I wasn’t truly free. I had poison coursing through my
veins. I had days, or maybe hours, to live. Mildred was my only hope, but no one had a clue where to find her. And out there somewhere, Gage was hell-bent on letting out a legion of demons.
I hadn’t been in control of my life for a long time. Not since the moment Macaven’s men slaughtered my family. Since then every step I’d taken seemed to lead me into darkness and danger. I wondered how long it would be before I could get off this crazy, horrible rollercoaster.
If we found a cure for the poison, if we stopped Gage from accomplishing his dastardly deeds, if we kept the Legion from crossing over… Was there a future out there for Luke and me? One where we could just be together, living our lives without someone trying to hurt us or imprison us? I stopped and rested against a tree. There might’ve been, if I hadn’t caused the whole world to spin on its axis by raising the dead. It was because of me that the death dealers were in danger, and there was nothing I could do to reverse that situation.
I started to push myself away from the tree, prepared to walk just a bit farther to see if I could find Luke, when a pair of hands came to rest on my shoulders. Luke.
“There you are,” I said as I turned.
My words stopped cold when I realized I was staring into the face of a stranger.
The hands tightened around me, but I stumbled back out of reach.
The stranger stood there looking at me, a wolfish grin on his face. There was something in his eyes, a gleam of evil intent that sent a shiver down my spine.
The man took a menacing step toward me, and I tried to scramble away. He was too fast, though, and grabbed me by my hair, yanking me back. I screamed.
A howl sounded nearby.
The man didn’t let go but turned his body to look behind him.
I could see dark shapes sliding through the trees; my spirit pack coming to protect me.
Four gray forms of mist shaped like wolves whizzed around the man’s body, but the spirits made no move to attack. And he made no move to run away. Why isn’t he reacting?
The man yanked my hair hard and said, “What are you looking at?”
He can’t see them, I realized. Why?
When I was around other mage-born, there was a sense of electricity in the air around them, a buzz of power that was unmistakable.
I didn’t sense any of that from this man. He was not mage-born. He was a non-mage human. I was almost certain of it. But even if he were not mage-born, he should be able to see my spirit pack. I had watched a non-mage gang scatter in fear when Luke had raised his banshees. Why wasn’t this man cowering in fear? Why wasn’t my spirit pack attacking him? Why weren’t they protecting me?
A voice spoke from behind me. “What’d you find, John?”
I realized there were two more people behind me. They had me surrounded. Anger raced through me. I raised my hands instinctively and a surge of blue energy flew from my fingertips, washing over the men like a crashing wave. Nothing happened. They didn’t fall back. They didn’t move at all. My magic seemed to have no effect on them whatsoever.
I was one of the most powerful mages alive. I had magic no one had ever seen before, but suddenly that magic was useless against these men?
“Looks like you lost your way, little lady,” one of the newcomers said, bending down and looking into my face. I tried to squirm away, but his fingers reached out and grabbed my chin, turning my face until I had no choice but to stare directly at him.
“She’s a mage,” said John, tightening his hold on my hair.
I tried to move away, but strong fingers reached down and gripped my arms in a painful grasp.
The man holding my chin reached into his pocket with his free hand and brought out something. A crystal flashing with a rainbow of colors sat in his palm. “You’re right, John, she’s a mage,” he said.
“Magic whore,” said the other man as he began pulling a length of thick rope from his jacket.
At the sight of the rope, images of Sarah being tied up and thrown into a lake flashed through my head. Redeemers. The word slid across my mind and chilled my blood. These men were Redeemers. Macaven had pretended to be a member of that reactionary cult. He had used their methods to hide his killings, but these were the real deal. They were Redeemers, people bent on purging all those born with magic from this world.
“I don’t want any trouble,” I said, trying to keep the terror I felt from my voice.
“Your kind is always trouble,” the man with the rope said. John yanked me to my feet.
I struggled, I clawed, I kicked and fought, but I was no match for their strength. In only a few seconds, they’d pulled my jacket until it rested halfway down my back, trapping my arms within the sleeves.
The man with the crystal stood in front of me, his hands fisted in the front of my shirt. “She’s a pretty thing,” he said.
The one with the rope spat on the ground. “Don’t touch her, Kev, she’s unclean.”
John tugged hard on my arms. “Wonder what kind she is?”
Kev let go of my shirt, but he leaned closer until I could feel his breath on my neck. “Death dealer. I can smell the rot of death on her.”
The man gripped the rope between both hands and held it taut. “No one’s around. I say we kill h—” Suddenly he dropped the rope and cried out in pain.
I turned my head to see Luke standing ten feet away.
“Bubba? Are you all right?” Kev shouted, unaware of Luke’s presence.
The piece of rope lay smoldering on the ground. Bubba stood staring down at his hands. They were red and blistered, licked by the flames of hellfire.
I knew Luke could have done far worse. He wasn’t trying to hurt these men. He was just trying to scare them off.
“I’m okay,” Bubba said.
Another flash of orange streaked across the sky, and heat filled the air. “Let her go,” Luke growled.
The men standing around me paused for a moment, staring at Luke. I wondered if they were going to cut and run, but Kev took a step forward.
“Another one. It’s our lucky day, boys. The woods are crawling with mages.”
Fire swirled around Luke’s hands. “Take your hands off her.”
Kev grabbed me and pulled me against him. “I don’t think you seem to understand the situation, mate. We don’t take orders from the likes of you.” Kev turned to Bubba. “I say we kill her first, and then we take care of him.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.” Luke said each word slowly, through clenched teeth. I was struck by how imposing Luke was in his new body. Caleb was a big guy, both taller and more powerfully built than Luke’s original body. In Caleb’s form he would be scary even without magic—he towered over most of the people around him—but with the addition of the magic he’d inherited? Luke was terrifying.
He stood with flames dripping from his hands down to the dirt. There was no fear in his face. I had seen Caleb angry, had watched his face fill with hatred every time he saw me while Gage held me prisoner, but I’d never seen such a look of ferocity and fury shine from Luke’s eyes.
My captor had figured out that, with my hands bound behind my back, I couldn’t stop him from groping me. Kev laughed as I writhed in his arms, fighting to keep out of his grasp without much success. In foul washes of bad breath, he told me in graphic terms just what he was going to do to me once my boyfriend was dead. I whimpered as Kev’s hands ran down my body.
Luke let out a roar, and the dam that held back the ever-present rage seemed to burst. Before anyone could move, Luke spun and hellfire ripped through the air. Bubba disappeared in a mass of flame and ash. Orange-and-yellow fire streamed from Luke’s fingers for one heartbeat after another until he finally dropped his hands and the fire disappeared.
There was a ten-foot circle of blackened and smoking pine needles, and in the middle of the circle lay Bubba. I expected to see a blackened husk, but Bubba was alive. He rolled on the ground in pain, his hair and clothes smoking and his skin red and blistered from the heat. Coughing and cursing, B
ubba slowly rose to his feet. Around his neck, a blue glow haloing a small leather bag on a string appeared.
A protection pouch. How could a magic-hating cult have convinced a gypsy to make them a protection pouch? It didn’t make sense, but then again nothing about the Redeemers made sense.
John took a step forward, and I saw for the first time that he held a small silver sword in one hand.
Kev wrapped his arm around my neck. “Watch this, you little witch,” he breathed excitedly in my ear, “We’re ready for your little tricks.” His bad breath washed over me and mixed with his sour body odor, making my stomach roll. I felt a tingling in the back of my shoulder where his protection pouch touched my body. What kind of protection pouch could stand up against my spirit pack and Luke’s hellfire?
Bubba shed his smoldering jacket. He wore a torn T-shirt with the phrase “SUFFER NOT A WITCH TO LIVE!” emblazoned across the back. He reached down and pulled a wicked-looking hunting knife out of the top of his worn boot.
The blades glittered in the sunlight as the men advanced. It took me a moment to notice that both blades had symbols etched onto their surfaces. These Redeemers had protection pouches and enchanted daggers.
Luke was not looking at the men—his eyes were on me, glowing with hellfire. Luke raised his hands, shouted out a string of words, and the damned souls that served him began to flash into existence. Each one came with a pop and a bright flash of red. One and then two appeared. And then there were a dozen all floating in the air around Luke. Where his spirits floated, the air rippled and glowed with a red hue. And then, as if on cue, they all shot through the air in unison and attacked the two advancing redeemers. The scream of banshees ripped through the air as the spirits dived at the men.
The men had not been able to see my spirit animals, but they clearly saw Luke’s banshees. As the spirits advanced, the men stood their ground. I expected the men and the banshees to clash, but as soon as the damned spirits were within inches of the men, they seemed to bounce off an invisible barrier. The protection pouches were keeping the banshees at bay.
Legion Page 15