Blood Spelled

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Blood Spelled Page 17

by Gayle Parness


  At times I felt Isaiah was still in love with her too. My mom must have been something special. I felt the familiar tinge of hurt, the usual thing for someone who’d lost their mother way too early in their lives, but I let it pass. Today was about my dad.

  Simon was on the board of the Western Conclave of Sorcerers and many of its members arrived for the ceremony, along with representatives from the national office. Half a dozen Stanford University professors, most of them shifters or sorcerers themselves, had also turned up, expressing their deepest sympathies to me, Simon’s only known living relative.

  It was surreal because in truth, I hardly knew my birth father, having only spent time with him as an adult and then seeing him only four or five times over the last two years. I regretted the argument that had ensued after Bridgett’s death. Simon had never chosen to listen when I’d tried to explain why she’d had to die, why our duel was to save Charlie’s life along with countless others. Bridgett had allied herself with Naberia after the tragic death of her mate William. She’d intended to use her powers to kill my son, Garrett and many of our allies, convinced we could have done something to stop Queen Fionna from murdering Will.

  It wasn’t true. Nothing could have been done to stop that evil creature and it took her own father, King Finvarra, to end her reign of terror.

  Most of my friends were at the funeral to support me: my shifter team, Garrett’s nest, assorted witches, shifters and sorcerers we’d grown close to during our years together. Garrett’s cousin Aaron came, along with his mate Cathy, and Franklin, his second-in-command. Our closest fae friends arrived: Liam, Kellaine, Farrell, Elle, Linn, Philladre and Brina, but the biggest surprise was when Aedus arrived, representing the Cascade Sidhe, followed by Lord Caelen, an official representative of the Court of Faerie. They offered their condolences and handed me a hand-written, personal message from King Finvarra. I opened it immediately.

  Little Mother,

  I am grieved to hear of the loss of your father. If there had been any way for me to attend his farewell service, I would be by your side at this moment, but Faerie is a demanding mistress who must be attended to for many hours each and every day, at least until she is fully healthy once more.

  I thank you for allowing your son to help me in this effort, as do the people of Faerie who have come to love him. He has been most insistent of late that I take the war more seriously, and I begin to see the wisdom of his constant nagging. He is correct of course, and I hesitate to ask that you permit him to stay with us for a while longer as we sort through his ideas, plans and suggestions and work up a strategy to defeat our archenemy.

  You are in no small part responsible for my land’s renewal, not simply because you birthed this amazing child, but because, with your gentle energy and fearless words, you encouraged me to awaken to the truth of my greatest transgression. After meeting you on that lonely beach, I could no longer hide from the pain I’d caused my people and I was forced to act on their behalf.

  Simon Crenshaw was blessed indeed to call himself your father. He will always care for you, as he still lives within your spirit and your blood.

  I am here for you whenever the need arises.

  Fin

  I sighed and put the note away, deciding to read it again when I got home. I was glad Fin hadn’t come, because he would have seen past my defenses and noticed my loss of control and soon after, the reason for it.

  Because the early evening was lovely, the sunset glorious, the ceremony was held outside on the beach. Simon liked the beach. He boated whenever he could and enjoyed deep-sea fishing, sometimes sharing his catch with us. He’d told me the ocean was where he felt most comfortable, so this was the most appropriate place to say our goodbyes.

  As was traditional in the death of a sorcerer, members of the Western Conclave carried out the service, first lighting an enormous bonfire in the sand and directing us to form a circle around it. Most of the ritual was spoken in English, although there was a section chanted in Ancient Greek and a few phrases whispered in languages I’d never heard. Simon was a Stanford University professor who taught Ancient Languages and Early Philosophy and was published in both fields, so I was glad they’d thought to include something he was passionate about in the service.

  But as the service droned on and on, I began to get antsy. Charlie and Garrett had bookended me throughout the entire ordeal, discouraging anyone who might cause me stress or upset me in any way from coming too close. It had been discussed ad nauseam and decided by the males who seemed to specialize in running my life that because the demon magic in my blood was wreaking havoc with my impulses and emotions, it wasn’t safe for me to walk around and mingle without a guard by my side. My two already-way-too-over-protective males had not left my side. Isaiah, the chicken, had decided it was best if he didn’t make an appearance, especially with all the fae present, but he was nearby if my prison guards needed him for anything.

  Although only a few of the people present knew what was going on, the whole thing was humiliating to the extreme. I mean what did they think I was going to do? Push someone into the fire? Start a brawl? Kick sand in a few of those stodgy professor’s faces? Some of them hadn’t even come over to offer condolences. Maybe a dip in the ocean would pull them down a peg.

  I turned away and chuckled softly to myself. My eyes were itchy again. That happened a lot lately.

  “Jacqueline.”

  It was Garrett, who was already standing right next to me…looking absolutely delicious, I might add…yum. “Jacqueline here, boss.”

  “Do you need a break?”

  “What, like a nap? Like you’d put down a blanket so I can curl up and snooze?”

  “Mom…”

  Charlie placed his hand on my shoulder and I knew what was coming next. Sometimes I just wished he’d keep his freakin’ healing energy to himself. Had I been that obnoxious? If I ever got my cheetah back, I was going to make sure… Would I ever get her back? I missed her, especially the hunting. It was so cool to—

  Charlie’s energy seeped into my bones and blood, bringing my focus back to the ritual, the sadness and the solemnity. What had I been thinking about? Hunting? This was Simon’s funeral for god’s sake.

  I put my hand over Charlie’s and nodded. My two guys looked enormously relieved. This whole thing must be awful for both of them. A burning flash of guilt twisted my stomach into a pretzel. The sooner I was away from them, the happier they’d be.

  Simon’s body had already been cremated as per his wishes as stated in his will. He’d left me everything, including his home in Capitola, his boat, his considerable savings and stock portfolio, the royalties from the three textbooks he’d written and all of his possessions. It would take months to go through it all, months I didn’t have, so I hired a moving company to pack everything up and put it in storage for now. Kellaine and Philladre, Aedus’ mate, volunteered to be there to supervise. I told them to set aside photographs and personal papers, but that they should use their judgment regarding everything else.

  Most of the attendees stopped by one more time before leaving, some of them promising to send me pictures they had of Simon, or to write down a few of the funnier stories about adventures they’d shared. I thanked them, wondering how many knew I was responsible for Simon’s death.

  The witch had shot him. But if I hadn’t tried to stage a break out, it never would have happened.

  After everyone else left, Garrett and I stayed until the fire burned out. Isaiah joined us at the very end to take possession of his latest project. Me.

  Garrett pulled me close. “The villa is ready and the usual staff will be back to welcome you. Try not to worry. You’re in good hands. I’ll be there by dinnertime tonight.”

  “I love you, Garrett. I hate this.”

  “No more than I do, my love.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Isaiah and I took the lines separately to the villa. I’d focused on appearing on the balcony outside the bedroom I shared
with Garrett every time I’d stayed in Carmel, but Isaiah must have chosen a different landing spot.

  He’d already popped over this morning to drop off my bags—a perfect example of the efficiency and convenience of traveling through threads of magical energy. No need to make the drive or drag the luggage up the stairs. No road rage or sore backs.

  I turned to face the ocean, a million thoughts racing around in my head, each one trying to nudge another one out of the way. I had a sudden urge for company of another sort, so I sent out a call to a sweet soul I hadn’t spoken to for several months.

  “Jacqueline. How lovely to see you again.”

  “And you, Marie. You look so well.” Marie was Garrett’s deceased sister; a spirit Isaiah had discovered trapped in the basement of this same villa. Still appearing to be around eighteen or nineteen, she was slim and blond like her mother, but her dark eyes were soulful like her father’s. She’d suffered badly under Eleanor, and I was so happy to see her smiling and content. She and I were able to communicate because of my demon blood—kind of a necromancer thing, which I admit, freaked me out sometimes.

  “I am surprised to see you are here without Garrett.”

  “He’ll be arriving tonight. I’m getting some extra training with Isaiah and we thought this was a good location. Have you seen your family lately?”

  Her mate lived in Louisiana with their children, grandchildren, great grandchildren and on and on. He wasn’t able to speak to Marie the way I was, but she was able to leave him little hints and messages so he knew she was around. “Yes, he and the children are well and happy. I’m so proud of all of them.”

  “You’ve chosen to stick around, I see.”

  “Yes. I’ll wait until my love is ready to fade. Then I’ll meet him on the other side.”

  “I think that’s lovely, and very romantic.”

  “You made all of this possible, Jacqueline. Would you allow me to talk to Garrett at some point while you’re here?” I was able to send enough demon energy her way to make her corporeal enough for Garrett to actually see her. He’d held himself responsible for her death for such a long time, it was a wonderful moment eighteen years ago when Marie had stood in front of him and told him it hadn’t been his fault and that she loved him as she always had.

  “I’ll send a message if it’s possible. I get the feeling Isaiah is going to be keeping me fairly busy.”

  “A truer word was never uttered.” Isaiah hadn’t bothered to knock. Typical.

  “Madame Cuvier.” He bowed like a courtier. “How wonderful to see you, sweet child.”

  “Thank you, Monsieur Isaiah.” She curtsied. “I understand you and my sister-by- marriage will be training together again.”

  “This is correct.”

  “You will hold your temper, I expect?” Her look was surprisingly stern.

  “As well as I am able with a female such as your sister-by-marriage.” He smiled his most charming smile.

  “I suppose I shall have to agree, but if I hear differently I will be back to haunt your every waking moment.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

  “I stand forewarned.”

  We said our goodbyes to Marie and she disappeared, probably heading back to her family. Sighing, I placed one of my suitcases on the bed and unzipped it.

  “A maid will unpack your things. How are you feeling, little demon?”

  “Please don’t call me that.”

  “As you wish.”

  “I’m hungry and tired.” No reason to beat around the bush.

  “You may eat something light and rest for an hour, then we’ll begin. I’ve told cook to send up a snack.”

  “I need more than a snack. I never ate breakfast.”

  “It’s wise to eat lightly.”

  “It’s that bad?”

  “Don’t worry about it now.”

  A few moments later Isaiah opened the door and took the tray from the maid, thanking her. All the staff at the villa were vampires, so everything was taken care of with efficiency, professionalism and speed, mostly during the evening hours. He stayed with me while I ate, chatting about silly things that he’d seen on the news or read in the paper, little stories that at another time might have cheered me up. But the ache in my heart was only getting worse as each day passed without the ability to connect to my cheetah nature. I was half a person and might never be whole again.

  Isaiah insisted I learn to control my powers, but also to work to make my demon aspect stronger. But I didn’t want it stronger. What I wanted was my whole self returned to me.

  Tears filled my eyes, a few of them escaping their tight confinement and dripping on my plate. Isaiah’s expression grew compassionate. He handed me a handkerchief and removed the plate and the tray. “Sleep, child. You’ll need your strength.” I didn’t even remember lying down, but when I woke up an hour and a half later, I was on my back on the bed with a blanket drawn up to my chest. “Freshen up and meet me in the garden,” he sent. I obeyed, praying we’d somehow find a cure.

  The new day had turned gloomy, the threat of rain not a surprise for this time of year. El Nino was causing floods and blizzards across a large portion of the county, and the coast of California was experiencing more rain than was normal for our region. Rain was always welcome in our state because drought and forest fires were common, but heavy rains in an area that had suffered through fire, often brought with it devastating mudslides.

  Isaiah had perched on a bench in the garden. “Sit with me.” Instead I positioned myself stiffly on the bench across from his. “I’m sorry, Jackie. I don’t want to hurt you or bring back painful memories or do anything at all to cause you distress, but if you can’t learn to control your gift, you will destroy all that you love.”

  I hadn’t expected such a dire forecast. “Destroy all that I love? Isn’t that rather extreme?”

  “Not at all. It is accurate.”

  “You truly believe I could attack Garrett or Charlie?”

  “Might I remind you that you’ve already attacked a close friend? And you were only playing at first. You could without a doubt do worse.”

  “What could be worse than attacking my son and my mate?”

  “You could side with Mother and fight with her against your family and all of your allies.”

  “That’s completely nuts.”

  “What were your thoughts in warrior form?”

  I twisted away from him, looking toward the ocean. A few pelicans were diving enthusiastically into the sea, coming up with fish after fish. How nice it would be to only have to think about flying and eating and mating. To live without boundaries. “I don’t remember.”

  He knew right away I was lying. “Shall I help you remember?”

  “What you did at the house was cruel.”

  “But effective. We were able to discovered what Naberia has done as well as an important weakness in her plan. It was worth a little pain, was it not?”

  “You weren’t the one barfing,” I grumbled.

  “Demons do not barf.”

  “Then I guess my cheetah is still in there …somewhere.”

  “She is.

  “Do you think Grandmother did this to Bridgett? That could account for a lot.”

  “It’s possible, but unlikely. As I said, her blood is the Holy Grail. She doesn’t part with it easily.”

  “Maybe she’s feeling desperate?”

  “I doubt that. Her numbers are triple yours.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “I’m not sure. She doesn’t often discuss strategy with me. She’s very skilled at giving orders and doling out punishments, however.”

  “Does she punish you?”

  He was silent for several minutes. “She forces me to punish others, so yes. She punishes me.” He reached out, palm up. “Please give me your dagger.”

  I wanted to argue, in fact I wanted to cling to it with every ounce of my strength, but even my overactive demon could see the folly in that. I pulled it from it
s sheath and hesitated. “Can you touch it?”

  “Of course.”

  “But I thought...”

  He snapped his fingers in irritation and I handed it over...slowly. He smiled as he wove the blade between his fingers, then spun it over his hands, showing off again. “If I were less powerful than you it would be a problem.” He seemed quite pleased with himself.

  My eyes were itchy. “Are you as powerful as Charlie?” I asked, feeling a little resentful about him taking the dagger.

  “He’s a child.”

  “So? His bloodline is—”

  “Not pure. I am one hundred percent demon.” He stood, sliding my dagger into a sheath at his belt and pacing slowly.

  I waved my finger around to annoy him “But that doesn’t mean anything. Charlie can meld his Magicks.”

  Isaiah moved with an arrogant swagger, probably trying to get a rise out of me. It was working. “In a few thousand years, if Charlie and I faced off against each other in Faerie where he would have access to his purest power and I would have access to very little, he might have a tiny chance to best me.” His eyes narrowed when I giggled at his bravado. Isaiah wasn’t as full of himself as say, Aedus, but he definitely had a prominent ego. “I am the heir to Naberia’s throne, although I don’t intend to ever take on that job.”

  I stood, feeling antsy again. “Why not? You’d be a heck of a lot better at it than Nabs.” I started walking toward the path down to the beach. Maybe there were some beach goers out walking their dogs. It might be fun to freak ’em out a little.

  “Nabs?” Isaiah was beside me.

  “Grandmother, Naberia, Her Excellency, The Bassilissa Naberia, the Queen of Cruelty, the asshole freak who—”

  He was suddenly blocking my progress. “Sit back on the bench and zip it.”

  “What? Garrett and I own this villa. I can do whatever the—” I tried to push past him. Not even an inch. I tried ducking around him, but he moved just as quickly..

 

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