by Sarah Biglow
“Come on, let’s do this!” I shouted at them.
They came at me in tandem. I ducked their blows and, when one came from behind, lashing out with magic that smelled like gingko berries, the blow bounced off me as if they’d actually struck armor. I still stumbled from the contact, but the force doubled back on my attacker and it sent them flying through the air. They slammed into the base of the monument just beneath the placard. They didn’t move, but their hood fell back enough to reveal a man with greying temples. I thought I spotted flecks of blood on his lips.
The woman’s other protector lunged and hooked their forearm around my throat, catching me off guard and hauling me to the ground. They used their other hand to land a few shots to my kidneys. Even with the protection of my magic, I still felt the pain. The urge to breathe—and therefore choke—was strong, but I held my breath and wormed my hands up to dig into the meaty exposed flesh of the person’s arms. My nails drew blood, leaving violent red marks as I dragged them upward. It was enough to loosen their grip and I rolled free, coming up in a crouch. In my peripheral vision, I saw the woman drag the blade across her right forearm. I expected the blood from the wound to drip to the ground, but it slithered along her pale skin and out to one of the five waiting spirits. The blood tethered the spirit, forming a visible connection. Behind the spirit I caught a flicker of something else … someone else moving through a haze. It appeared to occupy the same space as the dead woman and drawn, gaunt features overlaid across the woman’s face.
My throat went dry as I realized what she was doing. These spirits would become the vessels for the Druids to return to the land of the living. The woman drew her knife across her right thigh next and another connection snapped into place with the second spirit. Like the first, a shadowy figure came to occupy the same space. The woman’s final protector pushed their hood back to reveal a young woman with jet-black hair hanging in loose curls around her face.
“You’re dead, bitch,” she howled, sprinting towards me. As she moved, magic weaved from her hands into thick ropes. She snapped them and they snaked around my legs, dragging me down. They cut into my legs, inching their way towards my middle as I struggled.
“I don’t have time for this,” I muttered and grabbed the closest rope. I willed it out of existence and, after a tense few moments, it gave in to my intent. I scrambled to my feet and put up a barrier between us. She charged, bounced off the barrier and crumpled to the ground. It was my turn to sprint and I took off, ready to tackle the knife-wielding woman. I came to a skittering halt a foot from her. She paused in her self-harm long enough to shake the hood from her face. Taggart’s second-in-command sneered at me.
“Jamison may be out of the picture, but you’re too late to stop this, Savior.”
I held out my hand and willed the blade from her hand. Nothing happened and she let out a peel of high-pitched laughter, slicing into the meat of her left leg. My heart began to thud against my ribs in an ever-increasing beat as I tried to figure out what needed to happen.
“How am I supposed to stop her?”
I didn’t expect an answer or the feeling of hands grasping my shoulders. I turned to see Eleanor and my mother at my sides.
“Sacrifice comes in many forms,” Eleanor said, sadness etched into the lines of her face.
“No. You don’t have to do this. I’ll figure something out,” I protested as they both stepped forward.
My mother gave my hand a squeeze before moving to grab the tether between the FBI agent and the first spirit. The scent of my mother’s magic overwhelmed everything. The connection between living soul and spirit burned bright and then began to crumble to ash. The shadowy Druid vanished. My mother’s specter flickered for a moment—long enough for her to look at me and smile—before she, too, disappeared. Instinctively I knew she was gone for good. I couldn’t feel her magic within me anymore.
In my periphery I saw one of the Order members send a knife flying right at Kayla’s head. She vanished and the knife went with her. On the other side of the monument, Jacquie was in hand-to-hand combat with a man who’d forgone the robe altogether. She currently appeared to have the upper hand as she slammed him to the ground. Desmond and J.T. were double teaming a group of three Order members. J.T. had an oozing cut above his left eyebrow and I could see Desmond’s lower lip was swollen, but they were holding their own.
Turning back to my own situation, I watched as Eleanor moved to take on the next spirit. “No, you don’t have to do this. Stop!” I begged her, but she didn’t listen.
Rosemary flared in the air and another connection turned to ashes, leaving only one connection left. A woman who turned out to be my grandmother strode past me, and with a wink, she severed the final connection, her magic disappearing along with her. I clutched at the pendant as if I could keep their magic contained a little while longer. I didn’t want to lose any more of them.
Taggart’s second-in-command and I stared at each other. She made a move to keep cutting herself, but my reflexes kicked in. With the connections to the spirits—and by extension the Druids—broken, I could approach her. I charged to her left, catching her off guard. Once I was behind her, I grabbed her right forearm and twisted it behind her. She struggled in my grasp, slamming her head into my nose. I tasted the blood running down my lip but let it fuel me. Looping my leg around hers, I dragged us both to the ground. She scrambled to get free, wielding the blade in front of her. Blood still ran down her arm and legs in little rivers of red.
This close up I could see the detail on the knife and my chest tightened with a moment of panic. It was the same knife Taggart had used on me. With a wicked grin, the agent raised her arm and threw the knife straight at my chest. Before I could throw up a barrier, the pendant at my throat burned with cold blue energy. The knife’s tip connected with the metal and went careening back at its owner, slamming into my attacker’s chest. She dropped instantly, eyes wide in shock. I scrambled to her side, pressing my fingers into the side of her neck. Her heartbeat had slowed faster than I’d have guessed possible. A shadow passed over her face and then she was gone.
With her lifeless body now lying on the ground, I stood to face the spirits. Their accusatory looks even with hollow eye sockets were all they gave me. Perhaps they were robbed of their voices in death and they’d have gotten another chance at life if the ritual had been completed. Overhead, the rim of the sun flared around the moon. I reached up to that light and let it fill me up. The pendant at my neck turned white hot as if from the forge. The sunlight channeled through the diamond at the center, calling to the magic within me and I let it out with a single thought: Go.
Before my eyes, beams of sunlight struck the spirits straight in the chest. Their mouths contorted in silent screams as the light burned them up, dissolving them until they were banished back to whatever hell they’d come from. Not even the brimstone scent accompanied them out of this world. With the last one gone, I released my hold on the sunlight and my ability to stay upright went with it. The world went monochrome before I collapsed.
Twenty-Nine
The world came back slowly. First the murmur of low voices tugged at my consciousness, urging me to join the conversation. Then my nose filled with the sweet honey scent of J.T.’s magic, bringing me closer to the surface. Finally, my eyes caught up to the party and opened. At first, everything was a technicolor blur. I blinked a few times and my surroundings resolved into the same bedroom I’d come to in days ago after Taggart nearly killed me. The disorientation passed faster this time. I sat up and looked around the very crowded room. Desmond, J.T. and Jacquie were present along with Belladonna.
“We did it,” I said, the words feeling thick in my mouth.
“You did it, Ezri,” Desmond corrected. His smile reached from ear to ear. The pride in his voice rang clear. I’d done good.
“I saw you all fighting there with me. If you hadn’t been there to back me up, I couldn’t have stopped them.”
I rubbed at m
y head as a dull throb began to pulse right above the bridge of my nose and nape of my neck. “How long was I out?” I glanced to the windows to see the sky was dark, which told me absolutely nothing.
“It’s a little after eight at night,” J.T. answered.
It could have been worse. The thought that we’d all made it through died as soon as it formed. We hadn’t all made it. I could sense the absence of the magic of the three women who had sacrificed themselves to stop the Order.
“What is it?” Jacquie settled on the edge of the bed.
“Taggart’s second-in-command. She was sacrificing herself, or at least a part of her, to raise the Druids. It’s hard to explain, but she was establishing a living connection between herself and the spirits they raised from the murders. My mother’s spirit was there along with my grandmother and Eleanor Pruitt. They gave up their residual magic to break the connections.” It was as if I’d lost my mother all over again.
J.T.’s hand wrapped around mine as I fought to keep my composure. The pressure from his touch was enough to let me take a few shaky breaths and look to Belladonna. “I need to thank you. For giving up some of your magic to protect me.”
She smiled at me. “It was worth it. You should get some more rest. The Council will want to be debriefed when you’re up to it. And when you’re ready, your seat at the table is waiting for you to fill it.”
Slowly, people began to trickle from the room. Belladonna gave me a smile and stepped from the room in one fluid motion. Jacquie moved to stand next to me and patted the top of my right hand. “Take some time, you deserve it, and I’ll see you back at work when you’re ready, partner.”
“How many did you arrest?” I asked before she reached the door.
“Not enough. They took some casualties, but we got a few in cuffs.”
For the first time, I noticed a bruise on her cheek and a bandage on her left forearm that hadn’t been there before. “Did any civilians get hurt?”
“No. We got lucky.”
I pointed to her injuries. “You sure about that?”
“I’ll bounce back. And I knew what I was getting into when I partnered with you. Now, get some rest.”
And then there were two. J.T. raked a hand through his hair and looked at me with a quizzical expression. He’d obviously had time to heal the cut on his head.
“Did you know about what my mother was planning all those years ago?” I asked before he could speak.
His mouth opened and closed a few times and he glanced to Desmond as if asking for help. When none came, he looked anywhere but at me and said, “Not the details. I knew you were going to be hurting for a while. But I was a kid too. I didn’t know what to do about it. I’m sure Desmond told you that you weren’t supposed to find her.”
“I know.”
“Anyway, when you pushed away, I didn’t fight it. I figured that’s what you needed and you’d come back when you were ready. I didn’t think that would be a decade.” The last sentence came out at barely a whisper.
“I’m going to be saying this for a while, but I’m sorry I pushed you away. It wasn’t your fault and I’m really glad you were there with me today. I wouldn’t have made it through this without you.”
“Apology accepted.” He bent down and kissed me on the forehead. “And since we both survived this thing, you owe me coffee.”
I grinned. “It’s a date.”
He gave me a mock bow and slipped out of the doorway, pulling the door partially closed behind him. Desmond moved to stand by the window, his attention turned outward. Neither of us spoke for a while until the tension hung so heavy in the air between us that I kicked the sheets and blankets aside and stood beside him.
“Can you believe we made it? We spent so much of our lives waiting for the damn prophecy to come to pass and now that it has things feel…” I said.
“Empty,” he finished without looking at me.
It wasn’t the word I would have chosen, but I understood the sentiment. It definitely felt as if part of me was missing. Maybe it was the hole left by my mother and other ancestors who’d given up so much to help me beat back the rising darkness. Or maybe it was that I’d fulfilled the purpose I’d been told I had since I was eight years old.
“Something like that,” I finally said.
“You’re free now. You can just be Ezri Trenton, detective,” he said.
“I’m not sure I ever was just a cop. I used my powers to help me get to where I am. I think it’s time I step back into the community. There’s a lot of healing still to be done. I don’t entirely trust the Council, but that’s not going to change if I keep them at arms’ length.”
Desmond turned and looked at me. “I’m surprised to hear you say that. Glad but surprised.”
“You were right about a lot of things, Desmond. I need the Council. We wouldn’t have been able to get the evidence we needed to solve the case without them. There are benefits to having a governing body to back you up. And this week has shown me that there is a lot I still don’t know about our world. I’m going to use this to become a better cop and a better witch. I may not be the Savior anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still save people.”
“Does that healing include your father?”
For the first time in a decade, thinking about my father didn’t make me want to punch things. “He’s top of the list.”
“I’ll be there if you want.”
“I’d like that.”
He pulled me into a tight embrace and I returned the gesture. I’d been lying to myself for so long that I was better off alone. Now I knew I was stronger with my family at my side. Together we would face whatever came next.
Continue the Seasons of Magic series in book two, Summer's Stolen.
Also By This Author
Seasons of Magic
Springs Calling
Geeks and Things Cozy Mysteries
Toil and Trouble
Pains and Penalties
Forgive and Forget
Debts and Debtors
Have and Hold
Saints and Sinners
Muse Song
Muse Song
Standalone Titles
Unplanned
Archangel Rising: Volume 1
About the Author
Sarah lives in Massachusetts with her husband. She is a licensed attorney and spends her days combatting employment discrimination as an Investigator with the Massachusetts Commission Against Discrimination.
She is a self-professed TV junkie and in her spare time (what’s that?), she runs a TV recap blog with her best friend, Jen.
You can connect with Sarah at her website: www.sarah-biglow.com and follow her on Twitter @SBiglowWrites.
For those TV-obsessed souls, you can head on over to the recap blog: www.more-tv-please.com. You can also follow the blog on Twitter @MoreTVPlease and check it out on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MoreTVPlease.