Blood Spelled

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Blood Spelled Page 18

by Gayle Parness


  He scowled. “Sit now or I’ll chain you to the bench.”

  “Yeah, I’d like to see you try to do that.” I placed the flat of my hands on his chest and pushed as hard as I could. I grunted. “You’re eating too many carbs.” Aaaaand I was sitting on the stone bench with both of my ankles chained to one of the bench’s thick legs. “You think this is going to stop me? I can take the ley lines and go wherever the hell I want.”

  One eyebrow sloped up in a perfect arch. “Try it.”

  I reached out with my mind, only I couldn’t find the lines. “What did you do?” I was furious. Who did this guy think he was, cutting me off from the lines just like the witches had? This was not going down! I started to walk toward the driveway, hauling the heavy bench behind me. I was pretty sure Garrett kept a car in the garage for when we visited. After about twenty steps I gave up and sat again, exhausted. My shoulders and back were aching. Stupid bench was as heavy as a train car, and I was not Superfemale.

  At this point I was so angry I could have killed this arrogant creep. I felt for my dagger only, yeah, I’d given it to him. Crap. “Give me my dagger back. I’m defenseless.”

  “You’re far from defenseless, but don’t worry. I don’t intend to leave your side for the remainder of your stay, at least during the hours when Garrett isn’t here.”

  “You can’t order me around.” I flashed on an idea. “Isaiah of the Bas level, I send you hence to your home.”

  “Hence to my…” He started to laugh.

  “I renounce our agreement for you to train me. Get thee gone!”

  Now he was bending over and wiping his eyes. “Get thee gone,” he repeated, actually guffawing.

  “Shoo. Scoot. I mean it.”

  “You can’t…can’t renounce the agreement. I…I… You are the funniest little demon I’ve ever encountered.” He blew his nose on a handkerchief he conjured with a flick of a finger.

  “And you are the—” Aaaaand my mouth was gagged. I slumped, despairing of having any fun at all today. “Uhhh!” I complained. “Arrrrol!” I cursed. Kind of.

  He wiped his face and blew his nose again. “You should be very glad I don’t understand what you’re saying. I might have to spell you to be silent and you wouldn’t enjoy that at all.”

  That visual had me flashing on another memory from my time at the house. I’d been unable to speak when I’d been captured. I couldn’t call for help or ask for mercy or anything. I trembled, the memory bringing back all the fear and pain and loneliness I’d experienced while I was there. Before I knew it, I was crying.

  The gag was instantly gone as were the chains. Isaiah was beside me half a second later. “Don’t cry. I hate to see you cry.” He gave me a clean handkerchief, awkward in that way some guys got around crying females.

  The tears had snapped me back to my more reasonable self. “I had another memory. I couldn’t talk when I was there.”

  “At the house?”

  “For some of the time anyway.”

  He inspected my eyes, seeming satisfied by what he saw. “Are you finished mouthing off?” He was smiling but I was blushing, once more mortified by my consistently bratty behavior. I looked at the ground and nodded. “Your demon has calmed.” He patted my shoulder. “Tell me what set it off.”

  I shrugged. “Frustration. Anger. You’ve taken away my freedom.”

  “And what brought you back?”

  “Sadness. The memory of my imprisonment.” I rubbed my eyes. “Keep making me cry and I’ll be okay.” I slumped on the bench, miserable and depressed.

  He sighed. “I’m afraid you may cry more often than you laugh while you are here, and it does not please me to say so.”

  “Tell me what to expect.”

  “After we bring your warrior to heel, I will have to…to make adjustments. For them to work you must be willing to lose your identity, to lose your foundation, to lose your reality. The process may terrify you, and I do not know whom you will be when you come out at the other end.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “A week? A month? I don’t know.”

  “I gather you’ve never done this before?”

  He laughed. “It was never necessary before. I can’t even guarantee it will work, but I don’t see that we have any choice.”

  “Why would she want me stronger?” I fisted my hands but took in deep breaths at the same time, staving off the urge to go demon.

  “I’m not sure Naberia meant to make your demon stronger. It would make no sense at all to enhance the magic of an enemy, unless as I’ve said she wants you to switch allegiances. But even then it isn’t like she’d be grooming you for the throne. She kills all females who might be competition. Every one of my sisters has perished.” He shook his head and clenched his hands in frustration. “It could be something simpler. She was so focused on her purpose, she forgot the rules.”

  “Rules?”

  “She mixed her incredibly powerful blood with yours before she stabbed you with the dagger. It made the spell stronger, but in turn it boosted your magic.”

  “But what is the spell? Is it more than taking away my cheetah?”

  “My gut says yes, but we cannot know, which is why we must work every day on finding out.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Do you feel well enough to try?”

  I nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “I’m going to be experimenting at first—mixing my blood with yours. As Garrett suggested it would be best if you take some of his blood every night, but don’t allow him any of yours. I understand that might not always be possible, but it would be the ideal situation.”

  “What about you? Won’t you need blood?” Demons were somewhat like vampires in that they occasionally took blood to boost their healing powers or their energy. The fae also drank blood, but usually it was just during a ritual involving oaths or healing.

  “Normally I’d contact a donor at home if I’ve lost a lot of blood in a short amount of time, but I’ll find a way to replenish here in the Mortal Plain. Don’t be concerned. If I need to take a day off to recover, then so be it.”

  He didn’t sound all that enthused. “Garrett will get someone for you.”

  “It must be a demon or an unseelie donor. Blood from another species will not nourish me in this instance.”

  “Oh. That makes it more difficult. Is a vampire okay?”

  He grinned. “Only from an ancient line that traces back to the first unseelie.”

  “So someone from Francois’ line would be good?”

  “Only a female.” He winked.

  “Really? You have to be that difficult?”

  “Of course. I’m demon.”

  I laughed, thinking about my recent obnoxious behavior. “I see your point. I’ll ask. That’s all I can do.”

  “Thank you.” He reached for my hand and a moment later we were in a room I didn’t recognize. A simple bed with two chairs and a small table were the only furnishings. The floor was carpeted but there were no windows or doors.

  “Um…this is a lot like where Kennet kept me.” I glanced around and shivered, remembering the basement. “Am I underground?”

  “No.” He flicked his hand and one of the walls became an enormous picture window that overlooked the ocean. “We’re on the top floor.” The view disappeared with another flick.

  “Can’t you leave it? It’s claustrophobic in here.”

  “Not during your work with me. You can’t be distracted.”

  “Are you saying I have to stay in this room?”

  “Yes.”

  I peeked into the bathroom. “Without a shower?”

  “Garrett will escort you to the shower when you need to go.”

  “But there’s not even a mirror.”

  “Glass can shatter.”

  “How crazy do you think I’m going to get?”

  He ignored my question. “I’ll be closing off the entire bathroom while we work.”

 
“I didn’t agree to this. I’d prefer to stay in my usual room.”

  “You did agree, in fact. You agreed to my handling your training and this is how I’m handling it. I’ll bring you books and magazines, anything I don’t deem to be dangerous. You’ll have all the best food and Garrett will be here with you at night. When you seem to be more…level headed…I’ll allow you the window at the end of the day so you can watch the sunset.”

  “What do you think I’m going to do? Smash my head against the glass until I knock myself out?” He didn’t answer. “Really?”

  “I’m trying to keep you safe. Touch the walls.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was feeling. “They’re padded?”

  “I have no idea how you’re going to react when we begin. You might become violent.” He hesitated. “Or suicidal.”

  I sat in one of the chairs and put my face in my hands. “I can’t do this.”

  He placed a hand on my shoulder. “I won’t allow you to hurt yourself or anyone else.”

  I met his gaze with a fiery one of my own. “If it’s too much, you’ll stop?”

  “Yes. I’ll stop and let you rest, but we’ll eventually need to begin again.” He began to pace. “I still believe this would be easier for both of us if your mate would allow me to take you to the DR.”

  “He’s afraid Naberia will sense me there now that she’s given me her blood.”

  “Which is a valid point. However, I still believe I can protect you.”

  I sighed and squared my shoulders. “I guess we should start, huh?”

  “Yes.” He hugged me gently and spoke a single word in Rux. A fire flared to life in the corner, the newly created hearth a welcome sight in this chilly room. He tossed something resembling a mix of herbs into the fireplace, changing the scent in the room to a musky cardamom.

  “We begin with a cleansing spell. It will clear your body of the remnants of whatever the witches forced on you. It will also cause you pain, which will bring forth intense emotions. I will ask you to keep these emotions in check as much as possible although I understand this will be difficult at first. Unfortunately, the spell cannot cleanse you of Naberia’s magic, but that is why we are here.

  “The spell will only take seconds, although it won’t be pleasant. Afterward, you will hear me in your mind asking you to willingly yield complete control to me. If you cannot bring yourself to allow this exchange over the next few weeks, we will face a very long road ahead. It may be necessary for me to take control by force. Do you understand?”

  “What kind of control?”

  “I would control your body as Kennet did, but also your mind.”

  “No.”

  “I’ve been in your mind several times over the past years. At any one of those times I could have altered you in some way.”

  “I trust you, it’s only in the heat of the moment everything is different.”

  “We’ll keep at it until we get results.” He placed a gentle hand on my forehead. “Remain silent now, because words that are spoken outside of the spell will weaken it.” I nodded and Isaiah unsheathed his ancient dagger. “Your hand.”

  He cut my palm and I winced as he swiped the flat of the blade across it to cover the dagger in my blood. He chanted softly in a language only vaguely familiar—not the words, but the cadence. He used the blade to slice across his own palm, mixing my blood with his, still continuing to chant, the words becoming more familiar. With a flick of his fingers, the blade caught fire and as he twisted it in the air, all evidence of our blood was burned away. Yet when I looked closely at the dagger, the carved runes were no longer snaked in the orange of his aura, but with the red of our combined blood.

  His chanting was beginning to lull me into a stupor. I glanced at the wound on my palm, willing it to close with my cheetah healing energy. But that gift was lost along with the other half of my nature. I pictured Garrett’s handsome animal form, standing beside me, waiting for my shift so he could play with his mate. He seemed to miss her as much as I did.

  I didn’t see the strike of the blade until it was too late.

  My body burned, the volcanic heat melting me with its ferocity. My skin, my bones, my muscles were pricked with a thousand knives, my body transforming into sections of matter that no longer resembled the female who’d asked for help, who’d trusted Isaiah. I was dying.

  “Don’t fight the transition. Let go and fly with me. You are powerful beyond your imagining, and we will learn together how to control this new version of you.”

  Fly? I wanted to rage against this male, strangle him, pound him into the ground and watch him suffer as I was suffering. I would never leave my true self behind and agree to become what Naberia wanted me to be. I would hold on to myself for as long as I was able. It was all I had left.

  Someone shouted a battle cry.

  A field spread out in front of me, the grass the color of tree moss. Three fae warriors sat atop their kelpie steeds, their swords drawn and their expressions arrogant. But I was demon. I was larger. I was stronger. I would end them.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Jackie.”

  Another attack? I kicked and clawed, struggling to stand and fight again.

  “Jackie, stop, it’s me.”

  The fiend Isaiah had betrayed me with his dagger. “Go away or I’ll kill you.”

  “It’s Garrett.” Garrett? Garrett. He was here. My eyes flew open. His lips touched the corner of my mouth.

  “My sweet darling, I’m so sorry you’re suffering.”

  “Tighter,” I croaked.

  “What?”

  “Hold me tighter. I’m afraid.”

  “Nothing can hurt you now,” he whispered as he held my trembling body against his. He didn’t ask me to explain, he simply held me close, kissing my head and whispering sweet and comforting words like you would to a child.

  What was happening to me? I was pathetic.

  Suddenly I didn’t want to rest. “I’m hungry.” I tossed the covers aside, jumped out of bed and began to pace back and forth, back and forth. My nerves jittered and jumped beneath my skin. “Starving.”

  “Good. We’ll go to the kitchen.” Garrett took my hand in his, but disappeared a moment later, leaving me behind. He returned wearing a puzzled expression.

  “I’m trapped here. Isaiah says I can’t leave. And he won’t let me take a shower unless someone is here with me.” I pointed to the bathroom. “See? Only a sink and a toilet. He’s afraid I’ll hurt myself. On purpose, I think.”

  “Was it that bad?”

  I tuned away from my concerned mate and walked to the corner of the room where the hearth had existed only a short time ago. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He came up behind me and moved a clump of hair off my neck, leaning down and kissing my nape. “Je t’aime. Whatever you tell me won’t change that.”

  My stomach clenched with extreme sadness. How could I face him like this? I was a monster now, capable of killing my friends. Maybe even my family.

  “I’ll bring you some food,” he suggested.

  “No need.” Isaiah arrived with a basket of food and an extra chair. “How do you feel?” he asked.

  I sat on the chair and began lifting out items: fruit, cheese, sausages, and freshly baked breads. I really didn’t want to talk to him, my torturer, so I didn’t answer.

  “Can you leave us?” Garrett asked.

  “No, I’m sorry, but we three need to discuss what happened.” I buried my head in my hands. “You did well for the first time,” Isaiah said, trying to sound encouraging.

  “First and last time,” I muttered.

  “I’m sorry, but no.”

  “I won’t kill like that again.”

  “You didn’t actually kill anyone,” Isaiah pointed out. “You did attempt to beat the crap out of me, and I apologize if you have any scratches or bruises, but I was only trying to stay out of the line of fire and keep you from hurting yourself.”

  “I b
athed in their blood. It was everywhere. I killed. I…” Thank goodness the bathroom was only a few feet away because I practically drowned myself in icy tap water to keep from heaving. When the nausea subsided, I slid down to the floor, my hair dripping and soaking into the carpeting. Carpeting in the bathroom? I pulled up my knees and buried my head in my arms. Apparently, a tile floor was too dangerous for the crazy woman.

  Garrett urged me to stand, then lifted me up so I could sit on the bathroom counter. He dried my hair with a towel, then combed it out so it was manageable again. “Shall I kill him now or shall we give him one more day?” he asked, glancing toward the other room. He was only half teasing.

  I didn’t bother speaking mind-to-mind. “It’s me, not him. Isaiah is doing what he said he’d do and I agreed to the training.” I dried my face with a fresh towel Garrett handed me.

  “Do you think you can eat?” He kissed my cheek.

  “Maybe.”

  “Try.” He poked me in the belly playfully, trying to bring a smile to my face.

  “Okay, I’ll try.”

  As it turned out I was more than capable of wolfing down a large meal and two glasses of herbal tea. No caffeine or alcohol for me until I’d “settled,” as Isaiah put it.

  We’d kept the conversation light during our meal. Isaiah had even allowed the window to reappear. “Tell me what happened.” Garrett asked.

  “I turned into a monster.”

  “A demon warrior. Not a monster. And it was all in your head,” Isaiah argued.

  “But I could smell their blood. Taste their…their flesh. It was… Oh god, it was…”

  “Be honest,” Isaiah urged.

  “It was wonderful,” I groaned. “How can I feel that way? I’m a healer.”

  “What you’re going through is common to all demons, even those who are half breeds. You and Charlie never experienced it because the amount of demon blood in your line is small, but now, with Naberia’s blood seeping into your veins and the added strength of her magic, you’re experiencing this phenomenon at a more mature age. Think of the whole thing as being a stage of growth, like puberty.”

 

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