Raise the Dead

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Raise the Dead Page 17

by C. C. Wood


  Angie stood at the edge of the dais, keeping both Beatrix and the robed witches in her sights. She lifted her hands, each cupped around a sparking ball of pure power.

  Her voice rang out, rolling through the basement like thunder. "Those here against their will, you may leave with no fear of repercussions. If you stay, you will be judged by the Arbiter of the South Council." She flexed her hands and the orbs of energy pulsed in her hands. "Leave now or face my condemnation."

  That left me facing Beatrix. Alone. The runes and glyphs on my skin pulsed brighter, slow beats that echoed my heart. I understood then what Adrian meant when he said the knowledge would be there when I needed it. I could feel it within me, a living thing that filled me with absolute clarity. The colors of the room sharpened as my vision gained perfect focus. I could hear Beatrix's harsh breathing and the sound of feet running through the house above us. The scent of dust, candle wax, and herbs grew stronger as I inhaled slowly. My senses sharpened and I felt stronger, almost invincible. And viciously alive.

  The line between life and death lived within me.

  "If you want my power," I told her. "I'll give it to you. You want to know what this much magic feels like?" I asked. "Do you truly believe you're strong enough to contain it?"

  She lifted her hands, her mouth opening in a wide smile. I didn't give her a chance to speak whatever words she planned to say.

  I reached out and sank every ounce of power I could into the black, oily cloud that surrounded her. The aura welcomed me, reaching out to meet my magic.

  It was the magic of death, after all. I could feel them, all those people she had killed, their power and their lives stripped from them. They deserved to live, to be happy, but there was nothing I could do to change it. Except make sure that Beatrix never had the opportunity to use that magic to hurt someone else ever again. I curled my fingers and the metaphysical claws of my magic pierced that aura, gripping tight.

  Beatrix screamed.

  "This power isn't yours. It was never meant for you or even for me."

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rafe roll to his hands and knees. He rose to his feet. His face was flushed red and his eyes pale and bright with fury. He cupped his hands together then slowly pulled them apart. His arms shook with the effort. A small ball of flame appeared between his palms, growing with each inch his hands parted. When the ball grew to the size of a basketball, he hurled it toward me.

  Maybe it was my instincts or maybe it was the power and knowledge Death himself had bestowed on me, but my body reacted before I could think. I sliced my left hand through the air. The fireball veered off course and crashed into the furniture against the wall, exploding into an inferno.

  When Rafe lunged toward me, I lifted my left hand again, palm out. Magic streamed from my hand and slammed into him, forcing him to a halt. Rafe strained against my hold, but he was locked down tight.

  I turned back toward Beatrix, who was still grasped within the claws of my power.

  "I take back what you have stolen," I intoned, the words flowing from my mind to my tongue without thought. The metaphysical door within me opened wider, knowledge pouring into me fast and strong, and I continued. "I strip the power that death has granted you and I bind you, Beatrix. I bind your power so that you may no longer do harm to the world." The words slipped from my mouth without a thought.

  Bit by bit, I tore her ill-gained magic from her. Her aura ripped, the edges tattered and jagged. Beatrix screamed again, her power thrashing in my grip, but I wouldn't release her. She deserved to feel this, the pain and fear, after all she'd done.

  Rafe roared, fighting my hold as well, but I curled my left hand into a fist, tightening my magic around him. I didn't spare him a glance and kept my eyes on Beatrix.

  With one final rend, I slashed the stolen magic from her.

  "You are bound, Beatrix. No longer will you have power. Not that which belongs to others nor your own."

  The magic flowed into me, into the colossal reservoir that Death had connected to me.

  I released my hold on her. She was no longer a sorceress and held not a single drop of her own magic. She was purely human. Beatrix cried out, enraged, and ran at me. Though it would have been easier to use my power, I didn't want to. No, I wanted blood.

  I'd never hit someone before except in a couple of the self-defense classes that Jonelle had dragged me to, but the world around me was crystal clear and Beatrix appeared to be moving in slow motion.

  I side-stepped as she closed in on me, her hands lifted and her fingers curled into claws. When she twisted back toward me, I fisted my right hand and swung. My knuckles connected with her jaw, the impact singing through the bones of my arm, and her eyes rolled back in her head. Beatrix collapsed on the dais, her body boneless.

  The moment she lost consciousness, Teri popped into existence next to me. She quickly took in the scene, her eyes dropping to Mal's lifeless body before moving to the wall behind me.

  "We have to go," she stated.

  "Yes, but not without Mal."

  She looked down at him again and her eyes filled with tears. I was suddenly aware of the wetness streaming down my cheeks and how difficult breathing was becoming. Smoke billowed toward the high ceiling of the basement and I choked.

  "I can't carry you and him," Teri argued.

  "I'm not leaving without Mal."

  Blaine ran up the steps to the dais, appearing from the smoke like an apparition. "We have to go."

  I didn't say anything to him. I moved toward Mal and crouched next to him.

  "She won't leave without him," Teri told Blaine.

  Without a word, Blaine came over and I helped him heave Mal's body over his shoulder. He rose with a grunt and staggered toward the edge of the platform. Teri wrapped an arm around my shoulders and dragged me in the same direction.

  I couldn't see through the smoke, but Teri could. She steered me toward the stairs, grabbing Blaine's sleeve to guide him through as well.

  When my foot hit the first step, I heard Rafe shout through the flames, "Please."

  For a moment, I was tempted to leave them both there to burn, but that's not who I was, no matter how much they deserved it. I released him from the grip of my magic as we pounded up the steps.

  My lungs seized as we ran down the hallway. The heat of the fire sizzled against my skin and the smoke squeezed my lungs.

  Finally, we burst through the front door and into the early morning air. Blaine fell to his knees, nearly collapsing to the ground as he rolled Mal gently off his shoulders. Coughing, I jerked myself away from Teri and ran over to Mal's prone body.

  Blaine pressed two fingers to Mal's neck and I couldn't bring myself to tell him that it was no use.

  Suddenly, my body was wracked with a fierce shudder that made my bones creak and pop. I gasped as another spasm of coughing and agony ripped through me. The power I'd stripped from Beatrix rolled through me and I hunched over Mal as I tried to fight through the pain.

  A gentle hand touched my shoulder. I looked over and saw that Adrian, Death incarnate, stood over me. Instead of the black he'd worn earlier, he'd donned a long white robe.

  "Please don't take him," I begged in a broken whisper. "I can't lose him."

  "I'm not here for him, daughter." Death smiled at me, sad and bittersweet. "Look inside yourself, through the door I opened for you, and perhaps you'll find the answer."

  I stared at his face for a long moment and then closed my eyes, sinking into the power and knowledge that Death had given me.

  It was there, deep within the ocean of darkness. A tiny spark.

  Then I knew. The power that I'd stripped from Beatrix. All those sacrifices.

  Bringing Mal back would require sacrifice, the death of another. But I couldn't kill anyone, even Beatrix and Rafe.

  "You already have the power of the sacrifice, daughter," Adrian said.

  "But won't Mal carry the taint of black magic?" I asked.

  "Feel the power. Like
anything else, you can choose what you do with it. The witch chose to use it for evil. You do not have to. You can purify it."

  I grasped the power that I'd stripped from Beatrix, wrapping it around me. As it twisted and unfurled, the awful oiliness of it vanished beneath the touch of my magic. It was neutral, an amalgamation of life force, rather than the abomination she'd created.

  I gathered it and focused it in my hand. When I looked down, the silvery-white lines that stretched across my skin swirled and twined together in the center of my palm. The energy glowed bright, dimmed, then brightened again, a shimmering star, a pulse beat. A soul. I could feel Mal's essence within it, bound to the magic of life.

  I was the line between life and death.

  I took a single deep breath and rested my hand over Mal's still heart. The light sank into his body, infusing his skin. It flared and faded, pulsing faster and faster until the glow became so intense, I couldn't look at it any longer. I threw my arms up to shield my eyes.

  When I lowered my hands, Mal's skin was still luminescent. I reached out and brushed back his hair. His eyes opened as I trailed the tips of my fingers down his cheek. The brown of his eyes gleamed silver, the same color as the energy that flowed through my skin, then the light faded gradually.

  Mal blinked up at me, his skin returning to its normal hue.

  "Zoe?" he whispered. His voice was hoarse. "What happened?"

  I bit my lip to keep from sobbing and took his hand in mine. I hugged it to my chest. "Welcome back."

  I became aware of the others standing around us, watching. Jonelle was crying, leaning heavily on Stony who had an arm wrapped around her shoulders. He also had tears in his eyes. Blaine looked as though he was about to collapse with relief and Teri hovered nearby as if she were preparing to catch him. Angie stood next to Blaine but her head was turned back toward the house.

  "YOU!"

  Beatrix's incredible voice rolled across the lawn and I looked up. She and Rafe appeared out of the smoke.

  "I'll kill you and eat your still-beating heart," she snarled. "I'll put your head on a pike so that everyone knows what happens to witches who cross me."

  Rafe saw us surrounding Mal, who had propped himself up on his elbows, and his face lost all color beneath the soot that smeared his cheeks. He reached for Beatrix, but she shrugged him off.

  I rose to my feet, placing myself between Beatrix and Mal. "I don't want to kill you, Beatrix. But I will do whatever it takes to protect the people I care about."

  She sneered at me. "You think you can stop me?"

  "You have no power," I replied. "How do you intend to follow through on your threats?"

  Beatrix lifted her hand and I stumbled back as she leveled a huge black handgun at me. I'd been around guns all my life, my father wanted me to be comfortable with them, but this was the first time I'd ever had one pointed directly at me. My heart rose in my throat. I couldn't stop a bullet and deflecting it with my power might result in someone else getting hurt.

  Jonelle lunged in front of me. A gasp caught in my throat and I lifted my hands to grab her, but it was as if time slowed down. I couldn't move fast enough. I would have to watch another person I loved die.

  Only this time I wouldn't be able to save them.

  Jonelle lifted both hands and I felt her power expanding. The gun barked, a sharp crack that made my ears ring. Jonelle tensed in front of me and I saw a faint shimmering of gold in the air. A strange, high-pitched whine pierced my ears. I winced, my eyes shutting automatically. When I opened my eyes, the gun dropped from her hand and Beatrix slowly toppled to the ground, blood pouring from her chest.

  Rafe knelt beside her, clutching her against his body. As he held her, his eyes closed. His body listed sideways and he fell over, still holding Beatrix against him.

  When they didn't move, I skirted around Jonelle and approached.

  "Wait," Jonelle said behind me.

  Rafe's eyes were closed and he wasn't breathing. His pale face turned mottled grey and his cheeks began to sink in. He looked like the zombies Beatrix had created. Beatrix lay across his chest, her eyes open and unseeing.

  I sensed movement to my right and turned to look. Adrian stood next to me, his white robes floating around him.

  "As I said, I wasn't here for your Malachi. I'm here for her."

  "Why did Rafe die when she did?" I asked.

  "He longed for death, trust me," Adrian answered. "What she did to him...it was an abomination."

  "His skin looks like the other creatures' but—" I cut myself off and coughed as the smoke wafted toward us from the house.

  "She went several steps further with him. He's not just a puppet for her to control. He maintained his mind. Just not his autonomy." Adrian turned toward me. "He was the first one she created. It took a great deal of her power to do it. When she realized she could use the process to accumulate magic rather than sacrificing it, she grew completely uncontrolled."

  Adrian crouched above the bodies and laid his hand on the back of Beatrix's head. He inhaled and looked up at me. His dark eyes had deepened and become completely black. As I watched, the darkness overtook the whites of his eyes.

  "I am glad you're safe, daughter. I hope we meet again."

  "Well, I know we will at least once."

  To my surprise, Death had a nice laugh. "I don't know about that. The people of my line are surprisingly long-lived. And you are the most powerful of any of them."

  I didn't have the wherewithal to process that bombshell right now, so I said, "Thank you for everything you've done for me."

  The smile faded from his face. "I wish I could have done more. Unfortunately, I have no dominion over this world. Only the people leaving it." He paused. "Or those of my blood."

  "I know."

  "Until we meet again, Zoe. Live well and with love."

  "I will."

  With that, Death vanished, taking Beatrix's black soul with him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The first responders converged on us moments later. The firefighters moved us all away from the house. The blaze had consumed the structure, flames shooting out of the windows and licking the early morning sky. All the witches who'd escaped the basement earlier had disappeared before Teri dragged me out of the house. Selene and her mother were gone as well. I hoped that they were okay.

  Speaking of Teri, she was behaving surprisingly well. She wasn't molesting any of the men and she remained hidden. All it took was my near-death experience.

  When the police officers made their way over to us, I had a moment of panic. How would we explain what happened to Beatrix and Rafe? The fact that Mal had a bloody hole in his shirt, just over his heart, but no wound?

  Thank God for Angie. She used her magic to smooth things over for us. The story was that we were driving by and saw smoke. We stopped to help and found a man and a woman in the hallway. We dragged them out and the fire consumed the house. That was it.

  With a little boost of magic from Angie, the responders believed the story, as weak as it was. I hated lying to police officers but there was no way in hell that they would believe us if we told them the truth. We'd all end up in the hospital under psychological evaluation.

  We were treated for smoke inhalation and gave short statements to the police. The paramedics wanted to take us to the hospital for further examination, but Angie had already discreetly assessed us and healed several of our minor injuries. They finally released us after we explained that we would stay at the hotel for at least another two days and we just wanted to get cleaned up.

  Blaine insisted on driving us back to the hotel. Jonelle climbed into the very back of the van with Stony, fussing over his injuries, and I sat in the middle seat with Mal. Angie sat up front with Blaine.

  When we pulled away from the curb, it hit me. Mal had died. I'd almost lost him forever.

  Shivers wracked my body and my teeth chattered. Mal wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his lap. My forehead fit perfectly in
the curve of his neck and I gripped his shirt in my fist. I would never forget the sight of his pale face. Or the sound of his last, rattling breath.

  "It's okay," he murmured. "We're all safe and in one piece. It's over."

  Maybe now, but an hour ago that hadn't been the case. I shuddered harder and gasped as tears trickled down my face.

  "Is she okay?" Blaine asked from the front seat. His voice was quiet and hollow, as if the events of the morning had sucked all the energy out of him.

  "It's a side effect of channeling so much power," Angie replied. She sounded as exhausted as I felt. "And the added adrenaline crash and the emotional upheaval."

  Mal held me tighter and kissed my hair. "Take a deep breath, Zoe. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

  But you did, I thought. I didn't voice it. I couldn't bring myself to say it, to remember that vicious loss that pierced me to my very soul.

  I closed my eyes and focused on Mal—his scent, the solid feel of his body, and how his chest moved with each breath. His heartbeat was steady and strong against my hand where it rested on his sternum.

  He was here and he was still alive.

  I repeated it, silently, to myself like a mantra.

  We didn't speak again as Blaine drove us to the hotel. Everyone was silent and more than a little shell-shocked. The scent of smoke wafted from our clothes and our skin was tinged with soot.

  "We all need showers," Mal stated.

  "I should probably get a room," Angie said.

  Jonelle shook her head. "You can use my shower and you're more than welcome to stay with me if you want. There are two queen beds in my room."

  "A shower and a bed sound perfect," Angie sighed.

  "We'll meet in my suite when everyone is done. I'll order breakfast for everyone," Mal said. "We have things to talk about."

  Mal put an arm around me and steered me into the elevator. It wasn't until we reached the door to his suite that I realized I had no clean clothes or toiletries in his room.

  "I need my suitcase," I said. I sounded dull and distant and my feet were heavy as I trudged into the room. "I don't have anything up here to wear."

 

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