Crown of Blood

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Crown of Blood Page 23

by D G Swank


  “It won’t with that attitude,” Marij said. She had glamoured herself to look exactly like Celeste, down to the cute freckle on the tip of her nose and a few visible injuries from Donall’s beating, but she never would have fooled him for a moment. Even if he hadn’t been able to see through glamour, he would have known in an instant. Celeste had a sweet spirit underneath all her bravado, and it was clear Marij was rotten to the core.

  “They’ll likely take you away to get ready for the wedding,” Zane said. “I’m not sure where they’ll take me. I know they’re suspicious of me, so they won’t give me free rein.”

  Marij had attempted to convince him to turn the orb over to her, of course, but she’d finally accepted it wasn’t going to happen. Instead, she would glamour the orb onto her palm. If Donall insisted on an immediate demonstration, Zane would get as close as possible, and they would attempt to convince Donall that “Celeste” still had the orb.

  “You’re such a worrier,” she said in a dismissive tone. “Just have the orb ready when I join Donall at the altar and everything will be fine.”

  Nothing ever went that easily with the Dark Set, so Zane reserved the right to be anxious. Especially since he didn’t trust the spirit from the book any more now than he had when she was a wispy spirit in the mist.

  They were silent as they got out of the car and walked to the main entrance, where four Dark Set guards stood waiting.

  “Master Donall said to bring you and Celeste to see him as soon as you arrive.”

  “Doesn’t Donall know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?” Marij said with an insipid giggle that sounded nothing like Celeste.

  “He wants a demonstration of the orb,” Vince snapped. From the twitching of his hand, he was clearly ready to strike her.

  Zane almost let him, but he was afraid Marij would kill the man and ruin everything. Celeste had died to make sure the Dark Set was defeated, and he’d be damned if he’d let anything jeopardize that.

  “I’ve convinced her that it’s in everyone’s best interest for her to cooperate,” Zane said. “And we have a special surprise planned for Donall as a wedding gift.”

  “And what would that be?” Donall asked from down the hall.

  “I’ve perfected my ability with the orb,” Marij said. “I plan to draw power from the witches in attendance and give it to you.”

  Donall’s eyes narrowed as he studied her and Zane had a few moments of panic that Donall could see through her glamour.

  “I would love nothing more than to see a demonstration,” Donall said at last, walking up to her and touching her cheek, his fingers hovering over a glamoured bruise as if he were admiring his handiwork. “But I hear that you need to be whisked away to prepare for the wedding. It wouldn’t do for you to be underdressed again. Especially today.”

  “I won’t disappoint you,” Marij said, then softly kissed his cheek. The guards led her down the hall and Donall watched her leave with cold, dark eyes.

  “I need you to stay close during the ceremony,” Donall said, still watching Marij.

  “I am your servant,” Zane said. “Just tell me what you wish.”

  “I wish for the orb to be mine, not my untrustworthy bride’s. I need you to figure out a way to make that happen.”

  Donall needed the Dagger of Hillcrest to make that happen, and it was buried under a boulder in Kentucky. “I can scour the library.”

  “Do it now,” Donall said. “I wish to lay claim to the orb during the ceremony.” Then he turned and walked away.

  A wall of grief hit Zane, but he pushed it back. He would allow himself to mourn later. First, he had to avenge everyone who had hurt her.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Phoebe

  “Oh, my gods,” Rowan exclaimed in the backseat. “I think I have it.”

  “Have what?” I asked in dread. She’d been reading the Book of Sindal for hours, all the way from the scene of Phoebe’s murder. Logan had insisted she do so in the backseat. Although magic didn’t seem to faze him at all, he didn’t make a secret of the fact that he didn’t care for the book. Neither did I. The spells in that book had brought my family nothing but grief and heartache. Rowan had insisted it was the user’s intent that mattered—that a spell couldn’t be inherently evil—but I disagreed. I planned to burn that book the first chance I got.

  Her head jerked up, her eyes shining bright. “A way to bring Celeste back.”

  It felt like an invisible hand had grabbed my throat and squeezed. This was something I hadn’t anticipated or even thought possible. “From the dead?”

  She nodded. “She’s not truly gone yet, Bee. That’s why you can’t access her or her magic. There’s like a twelve-hour window before she crosses over.”

  “I woke up around six this morning,” I said, trying not to get excited as I calculated the time. “That must have been when she died.”

  “It’s five-thirty now,” Logan said, his tone cautious, “and we’re a half-hour away from the compound.”

  “Get us ten minutes from the compound, then find a place to pull over so we can try it,” Rowan said. “In the meantime, I’ll study the spell to make sure I have it right.”

  She didn’t ask me to do it, and I didn’t suggest otherwise. Her full power would allow her to read the spell. Although the book might be more accessible now that the entity controlling it had been stripped away, we had no way of knowing that. This was something Rowan needed to do.

  Logan nodded, but he didn’t look convinced it would work or that we should even try. Maybe he was right. And yet, if there was a possibility we could bring Celeste back, we had to try.

  Logan found an abandoned church and pulled into the parking lot behind the sanctuary. As soon as the car stopped, we all filed out, concealed by Rowan’s glamour, and walked back to the trunk.

  “How do we know it will be Celeste?” I asked, my heart racing. “And not some zombie version of our sister?”

  “We don’t,” Rowan admitted. “But we have to try.”

  “But we won’t leave her as a zombie?” I asked, in disbelief that we were discussing this. Although my magic depended on death, I’d never attempted to resurrect someone. “Do we know how to…end it if she’s not?”

  “No, but I promise, if it’s not her, we’ll find a way to let her rest.”

  A pretty way of saying we’d kill her, yet I wasn’t about to stop her from trying. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

  Rowan nodded and held the book with one hand as she began to read fluently in a language I didn’t understand. This confirmed that she’d been the right one to do the spell. Her magic now let her read and understand any written language. What had been taken from her had been restored. Now, maybe she would be able to restore our baby sister’s life.

  Magic charged the air and Celeste’s body began to glow from within, right there in the trunk of the car.

  Rowan’s pitch rose and something in my DNA recognized what she was saying, even though I’d never heard the words before. It was a prayer to the gods to bring our loved one back to us.

  Celeste’s body burned brighter, and Rowan stopped her chant with a fevered plea.

  We waited.

  The magic around our sister’s body danced over her skin until it finally sank into her body. Still, she lay unmoving in the trunk.

  Had we been too late?

  “Can I touch her?” Logan asked.

  “Yeah,” Rowan said, but she sounded far away, like she couldn’t believe the spell hadn’t worked. “I think so.”

  He walked over and picked up her loose arm, feeling her wrist for a pulse.

  I told myself it was a good sign that her limbs were floppy. Rigor mortis should have kicked in by now.

  Logan gently dropped her hand and shook his head as he turned to Rowan. “I’m sorry.”

  I burst into tears, but Rowan wasn’t one to give in to emotion. She was a woman of action. So she repeated the spell, her tone even more emphatic this time
, but the magic didn’t return. Apparently, it was a one-time shot, and we had somehow blown it.

  “Can you access her magic?” Rowan asked.

  I shook my head. “No. But her twelve hours aren’t up yet.”

  “Then let’s hope she was killed right around six,” Rowan said. “Because we sure could use her help at the wedding.”

  “There isn’t going to be a wedding,” I said. “It’s going to be called off as soon as Zane shows up without Celeste.”

  “It doesn’t matter. All those Dark Set mages will be there,” she said with a murderous gleam in her eyes. “That’s all I need to bring about justice.”

  I was feeling pretty murderous myself—and I wasn’t about to let those Dark Set mages hurt my boyfriend after everything else they’d taken from me. “Let’s get going.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Zane

  Zane couldn’t believe they’d all fallen for the glamoured Marij, but then again, no one here had really known Celeste. Only Zane had known her.

  Well, Zane and Lisa.

  Donall had sent Lisa to look “Celeste” over to heal any lingering injuries. Zane had wanted to go with her, but he’d felt obligated to hold up his end of this farce by spending some time in the library. Curiosity and worry had driven him out eventually, and ten minutes before six he called it good and went to find them. As he approached the room, Lisa was on her way out. She grabbed his arm and dragged him down the hall and whispered, “Who is that preparing to marry Donall?”

  He froze. “It’s Celeste.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t bullshit me, Zane.”

  He lowered his forehead to hers. “You have to trust me on this, Lis.”

  “At least I know you’re not going to let that asshole marry your soulmate.”

  “Soulmate?” He practically choked on the word as a burning lump filled his throat.

  “I know you’re dense, but surely even you can see she’s meant to be with you. Surely she sees it too.”

  Her statement made his heart trip. “I think she sensed it before I did.”

  Lisa’s face lit up. “I knew I liked her.” Her smile fell. “Now where is she?”

  He couldn’t tell her that Celeste was dead. Not yet. Her grief would somehow make it more real. “You can’t come to the wedding, Lisa.”

  “Why?” She narrowed her eyes as she studied him. “Something about you is different.” She grabbed his wrist and looked at his palm. Although he didn’t summon the orb, he allowed a pulse of light to release from it. Lisa deserved to know what he was planning. She’d need to run if everything went wrong. Her gaze lifted to his and he was surprised by the fear he saw in her eyes. “How did you get this?” Her panic became palpable. “Where’s Celeste?”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t hurt her, Lisa, and she gave me the orb freely. I didn’t even want it.”

  He must have pitched his tone all wrong, because she looked panicked. Grabbing his shoulders, she gave him a little shake. “Where. Is. Celeste?”

  A sob threatened to break loose from Zane’s chest, and Zane. Did. Not. Cry. Hadn’t since the first night he’d been left alone with the Druids.

  “You’re scaring me, Zane,” Lisa said.

  Maybe that was good. If she was scared, she might agree to leave.

  He pulled her into a hug. “You can’t be here for the wedding,” he repeated. “Promise me you won’t be anywhere near it.”

  “Zane.”

  He sucked in a breath, then glamoured himself into a black tux. “I’m going to glamour you to look like someone else, and then you need to get the hell out of here.”

  “What are you going to do, Zane?”

  Leaning over, he kissed her cheek. “I love you, Lis.”

  Before he stepped away, he glamoured her to look invisible. It wouldn’t last forever, but it would give her enough time to leave the compound.

  She didn’t follow him when he turned and walked out into the courtyard. Or at least he didn’t think so.

  When he entered the courtyard, the guests were already seated in neat lines and flowers bloomed everywhere around them. The arrangements were gorgeous, but no floral scent hung in the air. It was obvious they were as glamoured as the bride. The sight of so many Dark Set mages sitting in one place made his heart beat faster.

  I’m doing it, Celeste. You were so brave for planning this all on your own, and I’m going to make sure it happens.

  Xavier stood behind the last row of seats, lifting up and down on his toes, every bit the nervous father of the bride. He looked relieved when he saw Zane.

  “Will Celeste be more cooperative now?” he asked in an undertone as Zane approached the altar.

  “You realize your daughter was gravely injured?” he asked in disgust. “She almost died.”

  “But she’s here now,” Xavier said. “This is what’s best for her, and I’m glad she understands. Did Lisa heal her?”

  “Donall’s bride will be ready to walk down the aisle.”

  “And she’s willing to do her part?” Xavier asked again, worry in his eyes.

  “Did you ever love those girls at all?” Zane asked.

  Their father looked taken aback. “Of course I did. I do.”

  Zane shook his head in disgust. “Yeah. I can see that.”

  Donall emerged from the closest doorway, adjusting his cuffs. “Let’s get this done.” Without waiting for acknowledgment, he marched down the aisle while a harp played a song Zane didn’t recognize.

  Xavier and Zane followed him, and all three men stood on a newly erected altar. For such a new structure, it was fairly impressive. It stood at least four feet off the ground, and the five stone pillars in back were draped with yards of white fabric covered in white and red roses.

  The music changed to the wedding march and the doors opened, flanked by two guards. Marij, looking like a twisted version of Celeste, walked out, wearing a full, white skirt with a long train. Her hair was in an elaborate up-do, and she wore a diamond-encrusted tiara with a long veil that trailed behind her. From the bouquet of red roses clasped in her hands to the demure smile on her face, she looked every bit the blushing bride.

  Zane watched the illusion, his heart lurching when he thought about his Celeste walking down an aisle toward him.

  That would never happen now, and everyone involved in this farce of a wedding had ensured it was so.

  Marij gracefully climbed the stairs to the altar and took her place next to Donall, then Peter appeared in a dramatic puff of smoke.

  “Dearly beloved,” Peter drawled theatrically as the music cut off. “We are gathered here to witness the union of Donall Cassidy to Celeste Whelan.”

  Zane let the energy of the orb begin to gather. His new plan was simple: he would pull the power from every single mage and witch on the premises—including Marij—then he would blow the magic to kingdom come.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Rowan

  “You’re going the wrong way,” Phoebe snapped, clearly not herself.

  I couldn’t blame her. Hope could be crushing when it turned against you.

  Logan shot a glance to his GPS. “Not only are we going the right way, but we’re almost there.”

  We’d been driving down a two-lane road surrounded by trees for several minutes, and Phoebe had insisted he’d taken a wrong turn somewhere.

  “Look! There!” I pointed out a guard shack ahead. The gates were open—a bold move on their part, although I wasn’t about to complain. I’d already glamoured the car so they wouldn’t see or hear us go past them.

  Logan steered into a packed parking lot. “I guess park with all the other cars. What will happen if someone tries to park in our spot?”

  “It’s okay,” I said absently. “They’ll be repelled from it.” I turned back to look at Phoebe, who’d insisted on riding in the back the rest of the way. “Can you feel Celeste yet?”

  “No.” She sounded worried.

  “It’s barely six,” L
ogan said. “It might not have been a full twelve hours yet.” He unfastened his seatbelt. “How far away can you be from her body for the magic to work?”

  Phoebe flinched at the word “body,” not that I could blame her. Sure, she was accustomed to using bodies for her magic, but this was our sister. It was different.

  “It depends on the witch or mage and the type of magic they possessed,” Phoebe said in a small voice.

  “So there’s a chance she might be too far from you if we leave her in the car,” Logan said.

  “I don’t know.”

  He was silent for a moment. “This might sound morbid, but I think we should bring her body with us.” He held up his hand when Phoebe started to protest. “You said Celeste was powerful, and you need powerful. I swear I’ll be respectful.”

  Tears filled her eyes, but she nodded. “Okay.”

  We all got out and opened the trunk. Celeste lay in the back exactly like we’d left her after our failed attempted to revive her—curled up slightly, the dagger sticking out of her stomach.

  Logan reached in and picked her up, carrying her gently against his chest. “Ladies, lead the way.”

  I quickly grabbed the Book of Sindal out of the backseat, then glamoured it to look like a backpack and slipped my arms through the straps. Phoebe led the way, as though she knew where to go. The harp music that had begun to play likely didn’t hurt.

  “Where’s Brandon?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” Phoebe said. “I don’t feel him here.” He hadn’t answered her texts for several hours, and she’d been trying hard not to worry. We all had.

  For all we knew, he was walking into a trap.

  I covered us all in glamour as we crept around the building. We all stopped in our tracks when we saw the elaborate courtyard, with row upon row of Dark Set guests. Celeste’s plan had been genius—but that wasn’t what stole my breath away. The woman walking up the aisle in a wedding dress was the spitting image of my sister.

  “Is that Celeste?” Phoebe asked in shock.

 

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