Raven dove toward him, but he was quicker with his counter. She flew through the air and crashed into a distant tree.
Hazel channeled her fury into action, standing side by side with Morgan. They assailed Blaise in unison, their collective power searing through Hazel’s fingertips as it blasted toward him. He held his hands up to block their energy but fell to his knees and scrambled over the ground to flee.
They gained more ground, ushering him back with increasing strength and speed. Finally, when they were within a foot of him, Morgan raised her hand to deliver the final blow. Hazel smiled with satisfaction as she anticipated his departure back to hell.
But Blaise thrust his waning dark magic against theirs in a powerful, raw, and terrifying display. Hazel backpedaled as the aromas of sulfur and freshly cut grass mingled in the air. Blaise groaned as he drove toward them harder, his skin and eyes glowing redder with fire. The muscles in Hazel’s upper torso felt as if they were tearing as she swallowed an anguished yelp. Her entire body was breaking down, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her desire to rid the world of this monster was more important than her life.
She could see the world in its entirety: past, present, and future. All came together as one in her mind. She could hear the shrill cries of the women whose lives were stolen from them on these grounds centuries ago. Their souls cried out to her, urging her to find the strength to carry on. She sensed the full weight of their futile determination to resist the ideological nightmare that had infested their village and from which there had been no earthly escape.
A surge of energy exploded from her hands and slammed Blaise back to the ground. She leapt on top of him and pressed her hand on his chest where his heart should’ve been. Morgan clamped her hand on his head and held on. They worked in unison to strip the energy from his body. It passed through Hazel, the dark energy thick as lava, bubbling with all the attributes that wrought pain and despair in the world. The anger, hatred, fear, mistrust, and resentment eviscerated her as it worked its way through her body. And then, it was gone.
Fully expecting to collapse, Hazel didn’t understand how her body was still working. She stooped beside Raven without remembering how she got there. She touched her cold, pale face, hoping she wasn’t too late. Gliding her hands over Raven’s body, she was intent on identifying the issue so she could heal her.
Morgan knelt next to her and took Hazel’s hand. She hadn’t realized tears were soaking her cheeks until Morgan placed a hand on her face and tried to quiet her.
“Bring her back,” Hazel choked through sobs. “Please. Bring her back to me right now.”
Morgan placed Hazel’s hand over Raven’s heart. She felt the same level of energy as before, when they were seizing Blaise’s life force. But this time, instead of anger and fear, love and tenderness radiated from her feet up through her entire body, and into Raven. She watched in awe as the color slowly returned to Raven’s cheeks, and after a few more seconds, she detected a heartbeat under her palm.
Raven rolled over coughing. “What the hell just happened?”
Hazel fell on top of her, not thinking about Raven’s other injuries. She cradled Raven’s head and said through her tears, “Don’t you ever leave me again, Raven Dare. Do you hear me?”
Raven wrapped her arms around her and hugged her tightly. “It’s not so easy getting rid of a shadowhunter. Just ask Blaise.”
Hazel kissed her softly, tears still falling. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Raven let her head fall against the couch. Her aching body and thrumming in her head were welcome reminders that she was still alive. Hazel and Morgan had made quick work of replacing the memories of the “vigil” with something more pleasant. They’d also removed the feelings of helplessness, anger, and rage. It wouldn’t solve all the world’s problems, but it was a step in the right direction.
Hazel tapped her shoulder with a glass of vodka. “I thought you might need this.”
Raven took a sip. The alcohol warmed her chest and made her lips tingle. “Thank you.”
Hazel sat on the couch next to her. She put a hand on Raven’s face, and her eyes filled with tears. “I almost lost you today.”
“But you didn’t,” Raven said. “Try to focus on that.” She didn’t know how to erase the memory of her dying from Hazel’s memory. Although she’d wished it, that power wasn’t in her wheelhouse.
Morgan sat on the couch across from them. She raised her glass in their direction. “To us.”
Hazel and Raven raised their glasses as well, acknowledging all they’d accomplished.
“What now?” Hazel asked as she sunk into the crook of Raven’s side.
Morgan let out a long breath. “There will be another; there must be balance in the realms. This time, I hope to find them early to help guide them. I don’t want to be dealing with another Blaise any time soon.”
Hazel sighed. “I can’t imagine going through all that again. I’m glad I’ll be long gone.”
Morgan paused, placing her glass down on the table. “Oh honey, you’ll still be here.”
Hazel snorted. “Doubtful.”
“I know you felt it; you must know what you’ve become.”
Raven stiffened, and she felt Hazel do the same.
“What are you saying?” Hazel asked as she sat forward.
Morgan, normally boisterous, took on a calm tone. “You’re immortal now.”
Hazel shook her head, looked at Raven, and then back at Morgan. “No. It can’t be.”
Morgan picked up her glass again and looked into the amber liquid. “I’m afraid it’s true. I warned you this may happen.”
Hazel clapped her hand over her mouth. “But I’ll have to watch everyone I love die. I’ll never grow old? I’ll never be able to grow old with Raven?”
The words shouldn’t have warmed Raven’s chest, but they did. The idea that Hazel wanted to spend her life with her was overwhelming in the best possible way. They hadn’t had a chance to discuss their future, but Raven knew she wanted Hazel in it. Knowing Hazel felt the same was a gift greater than she’d ever expected to receive.
Morgan sighed. “That’s not necessarily true. There is a way to make Raven immortal as well.”
Raven sat forward. “What do you mean?”
“A potion exists in the farthest hills of the realms, but it’s guarded by the ancients. If they deem you worthy, they can give it to you.”
Raven curled her fingers around Hazel’s hand. “What do I need to do?”
Morgan laughed. “We just saved the world. Think this can wait for the morning?” She fingered the chain around her neck, then removed it and placed it on the table. “I wasn’t sure what to get you. What does one get for two people who helped saved the realm?” She snorted. “You’d be surprised what the internet suggested.” She flicked a tear from her eye. “Take it.”
Raven reached forward and picked up the necklace. In the center was a broken piece of stone. “Is this?”
“It’s what binds you to me, a piece of the Dare Stone. My gift to you is your freedom.”
Raven felt tears well in her eyes. “Morgan, I—”
Morgan cut her off. “Don’t make a big deal about it. It’s what you’ve wanted and worked for your entire life. Your uncle will be brought out of his stasis unharmed and be free to live out his days however he chooses, just like you.”
Raven smiled. “You never let me finish.” She placed the chain around her neck. “Thank you for this amazing gift. I…” She paused to search for the proper words but came up short. “How do you thank someone for the gift of freedom?”
“Good luck trying,” Morgan said with a chuckle and sipped her drink.
“I think I’ve already found a way.” Raven smiled knowingly at Hazel.
Morgan looked puzzled. “How?”
“I want to keep working for you…willingly.”
“I don’t understand. You’re finally free to go and do whatever
you please.”
Raven nodded. “I understand, and I choose to stay and work with you. It’s my choice now. I know I can go if I feel the need to, but my place is with you, Morgan, helping to keep the balance.”
Morgan’s face flushed. “Hazel, how do you feel about that?”
Hazel clasped Raven’s hand. “All I wanted was for her to be able to make the choice herself. She’s done that. Besides, I’ll be staying with you, too. I still have a lot to learn, and we have a potion to find.”
Morgan choked back a sob. “We’ll be like a real family? I never thought…I never thought it would be possible for me.”
Hazel smiled. “Someone will have to take over for you someday. I may as well learn from the best.”
Morgan chuckled. “Don’t get too ambitious, honey. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
Hazel made her way over and hugged Morgan from behind. “Good. I’m just starting to like you.”
Raven let her fingers play over the necklace, the symbol of her life, her freedom, and the trust she shared with Morgan. When she looked at Hazel, she was overcome with a gratitude she’d never thought she’d experience. She could’ve never imagined this was where her life would take her. Not knowing which gods to thank for her fortune, she thanked them all.
For the first time in her life, she settled into a peace she never dared to believe she deserved.
* * *
Hazel lifted the shirt over Raven’s head and kissed her way down her neck, finally settling on her chest. Her lips grazed the stone on the necklace. “How does it feel? To be free?” she asked, twirling it in her fingers.
Raven smiled against Hazel’s cheek as she placed dozens of kisses along her face and neck. “Wonderful. I never imagined I could have this life. I never thought being in love was something I deserved, let alone something I’d be allowed. I never imagined having a forever with anyone.”
Hazel felt her cheeks flush. “Say it again.”
Raven smiled and kissed her. “Which part?”
“All of it.” Hazel wrapped her arms around Raven’s neck and pulled her closer. “Tell me you love me.”
Raven tantalized her with kisses, drawing out their connection until Hazel whimpered. “I love you.”
Hazel traced her hand down Raven’s six-pack abs. “Forever.”
Raven’s body shuddered. “Forever.”
Hazel continued to explore Raven, letting the word repeat in her mind. Forever meant something different for them than it did for other couples. Forever really was obtainable, and Hazel would make sure it came true. There was no version of life, no existence she could imagine without Raven by her side.
Tomorrow they would start on their journey to forever, but tonight, she would brand Raven with her body, her love, her devotion, her everything.
Epilogue
Sarah sat on the side of her sister Mary’s bed as she labored into her sixth hour, about to birth her third child. As Sarah blotted the sweat from Mary’s forehead with a damp cloth, Ayotunde returned to the room with a mug of fresh water.
“This child be a fighter,” Mary said, huffing to catch her breath.
“Praise be to God that you are, too, my sister,” Sarah said.
“I will get the tincture of chamomile and lavender from my bag,” Ayotunde said. “She need the help.”
Mary let out a guttural groan. “Oh, heavens. The child be on its way.”
Sarah leapt off the bed and peeked under the blanket. “Ayotunde,” she shouted. “’Tis too late for your remedy. Come quick.”
Mary’s moan was now a full-on scream. Ayotunde ran back to help hold the blanket and join Sarah in assisting the birth.
“Push, Mary,” Sarah said. “The child is crowning.”
Mary let out an awful yelp as the head broke through her skin, and blood trickled onto the bed.
“Miss Sarah,” Ayotunde said near her ear. “I know of yet another way to assist.”
Sarah shook her head, wary of the potential consequences of Ayotunde’s offer. “It is almost there,” she said to Mary. “You must push harder.”
“I haven’t the strength. Please. A Rest.”
Ayotunde dabbed Mary’s head with a compress.
“I see a shoulder,” Sarah said. “Another good, strong push will birth the child.”
As Mary lay writhing, gasping, Sarah and Ayotunde exchanged looks of grave concern.
Unable to bear her sister’s agony any longer, Sarah gave Ayotunde a nod. When Ayotunde lifted her hand off Mary’s compress, Sarah positioned herself with both hands firmly under the infant’s head. After a quick flourish of Ayotunde’s arm, the rest of the baby slid out almost as though it were fired from a musket.
Sarah swept up the baby, cleared its mouth, and gave it a swift slap on its backside. When the roar of the infant’s cry filled the room, she smiled at her sister. “God giveth you your girl, Mary. And she be a hearty one.”
Mary whimpered with joy as she struggled up on her elbows to glimpse her daughter. Sarah wrapped the child in a clean cloth and laid her on her sister’s chest. Mary wept as she kissed her infant daughter’s head.
Sarah led Ayotunde aside and whispered, “She is the one from which Hazel shall come forth.”
Ayotunde returned Sarah’s smile. “We will watch over this child and make sure of it.”
“Aye. And each other,” she added as she studied Ayotunde’s beautiful, smiling face. She turned to her sister, still fawning over the baby. “I’ll summon Jacob and the boys.”
Sarah and Ayotunde left Mary and her family to their privacy. As they prepared to head home, Sarah unwound the horse’s bridle and led him to the water trough. Ayotunde gathered a few apples from the ground under a tree and fed the horse before they began the journey back to their homestead.
When Sarah and Ayotunde had returned to Salem Village through the portal, they’d arrived in the same place from which they’d originally fled but precisely one year later. By then, the witch hysteria and ensuing legal trials had been over for months, the final one occurring in May of 1693. When they’d awoken together on the straw-lined floor, the cell, still fetid and covered in filth, was empty.
They walked freely out of the jail into the early summer sunlight and made their way on foot to the homestead Sarah shared with her husband, Thomas.
They discovered it abandoned and overgrown. What little livestock they’d owned were gone, either wondered off or stolen during the height of the hysteria. Sarah had instructed Ayotunde to stay behind as she ventured into town to inquire about her husband, assuming he’d found another wife in Sarah’s long absence. But Thomas had not replaced her with another woman—he’d met an untimely demise after receiving a blow to the head trying to fight for Sarah’s release from jail.
Once the shock had subsided, Sarah leaned against a fence post in town and wept for Thomas, a good man who had given her everything he was capable of. With no male heirs, the modest acreage he’d owned reverted to Sarah. And since Sarah’s brother had owned Ayotunde, he’d allowed her to stay with Sarah to “help her around the homestead.”
Thus, Sarah and Ayotunde lived together in relative peace and happiness. Since they’d given up going to church, they only dealt with town folk at the market to sell vegetables, eggs, cheeses, and other foodstuffs they made together on the farm. But they weren’t always alone; many of the town’s misfits who hadn’t felt they’d belonged among Salem’s wealthy or blindly devout had befriended them and would visit their home during the warmer seasons.
Many years later, when Ayotunde, in her sixties, took ill during a particularly harsh winter, Sarah made peace with the doctor’s prediction that the end of their earthly journey together was nigh.
“My love,” Sarah whispered as she cradled Ayotunde’s limp hand. “Thank you for bringing such joy into my bleak, dank world here in Salem Village. You reside in my heart forever, and I know not how I will go on without you.”
Sarah’s deep sadness escaped down her che
eks, the droplets splashing on the back of Ayotunde’s hand.
Ayotunde pried open her eyes, and with a rattle in her chest, she said, “Our separation be not long, my Sarah. Do you remember New Orleans many years agone?”
“Aye.” Sarah smiled, remembering well the delight that had filled her when Ayotunde had come walking around Marie Laveau’s tomb.
“’Twas a binding spell, Sarah. Even death cannot separate us. Our souls be bound together for eternity.”
“Pray, let it be so,” Sarah said and kissed her lover’s forehead.
“You will see, my love.” Ayotunde’s voice grew small and quiet. “It is so.” With a last deep gasp of breath, her head fell deep into the pillow as the life departed her body.
It was not long after Ayotunde had been laid to rest that Sarah, in her despondency, lay down in their bed, closed her eyes, and succumbed to a heart that refused to beat more.
About the Authors
Jean Copeland is an-award winning author from Connecticut. Her novel The Revelation of Beatrice Darby won an Alice B Readers Lavender Certificate and a Goldie award for debut author. Her second novel, The Second Wave, received a Rainbow Awards honorable mention.
When not writing novels or teaching English at an alternative high school, Jean enjoys blogging, chatting it up with women on The Weekly Wine Down podcast, and visiting local breweries. Women’s and LGBTQ rights as well as shelter animal adoption are causes dear to her. Look for her contemporary romance, One Woman’s Treasure, coming July 2020.
Jackie D was born and raised in the San Francisco, East Bay Area of California. She lives with her wife, son, and their numerous furry companions. She earned a bachelor’s degree in recreation administration and a dual master’s degree in management and public administration. She is a Navy veteran and served in Operation Iraqi Freedom as a flight deck director, onboard the USS Abraham Lincoln.
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