by Casey Hagen
He pushed deeper into the vision, into what the woman in the vision had seen.
She lay curled up on her couch with an afghan tucked over her legs, when an ominous knock at the door shook the whole room. Her gaze darted to the various exits as she pushed off the couch and tiptoed to the peephole.
She leaned in and her eye focused as she looked through the tiny glass, meeting another eye pressed to the other side.
An eye so dark blue it verged on purple, with red starbursts streaking out from the pupil. The guy leaned back, his long, jet-black hair waving away from his face and onto his shoulders. He threw his head back and laughed, the kind of laugh that sent chills seeping into a person’s bones.
She backed away and he passed through the door.
A warlock.
One hell of a powerful warlock.
And evil to the core.
Dubious intentions oozed from him, the stench like fast food sitting in the Florida humidity at the peak of summer. He lunged for her and she dodged him, ducking into the bathroom and climbing out the window just before he could get her ankle.
He could have gotten her if he wanted to, but he was toying with her, enjoying the game, feeding off of her terror.
She hit the ground with a thud, the impact knocking the wind out of her, and her water broke.
She flagged down a car and hopped in.
The vision flashed forward to her in a bed, a sheen of sweat on her brow as she pushed.
Orion recognized the younger Althea Westing as she delivered four babies, all girls, tiny, but screaming with fury as they made their way out. Two women swooped in, removing the babies while Althea reassured her.
“He can’t get you here, Brigid. Just try to stay calm while I try to get the bleeding stopped.”
“No!” Brigid grabbed Althea’s arm. “I’m not going to make it. I know I’m not. I saw it. Hide them. Hide my girls and help me cast a spell to protect them until they’re strong enough to fight him,” she begged.
Althea gulped, and nodded. “Okay, sweetheart.”
“Belen can’t know where they are. Separate them,” Brigid demanded.
Althea nodded again.
“Promise me,” Brigid said.
“I promise.” Althea kissed Brigid’s forehead. “With everything I am, I promise,” Althea assured her. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
The vision flashed back to Brigid at the base of the tree. She ripped the necklace from her chest and dropped it into a metal urn and buried it in the ground.
At the end of the biggest root.
“By the Moonstone Guardian’s light, on this fateful night, guard my heart and my eldest’s birthright,” Brigid said, her voice fading away with her last breath as she stared up at the sheer image of a wolf reaching for her.
He let the vision go as Maeve’s heartrate evened out below his stone as it healed her.
“She’s getting color back,” Courtney said, sniffling back her tears.
“Her heart is stronger. Now to protect her,” he said, taking Maeve’s hand in his and laying it over the stone. “With my stone and my strength, surround this soul. Keep her, nurture her, and render her whole.”
Maeve’s lips parted and her eyes blinked open. “My mother,” she whispered. “She was my real mother.”
Courtney took her free hand. “It’s okay, honey; we’re going to get to the bottom of this.”
Maeve glanced between the two of them. “My whole life—it’s a lie.”
“Are you sure?” Courtney asked.
Maeve nodded and a tear slipped from her eye. “Yes. She died protecting us. I really have sisters. Barbara was right,” Maeve murmured.
“Barbara?” Orion asked.
“We called Barbara Wolfe about where to find the tree. She suspects Maeve is one of the The Tetrad, the last of the Moonstone Guardians Pack,” Courtney said.
Orion stiffened. “That’s impossible. They’re extinct.”
“You know about them?” Courtney asked.
Not a lot, but he knew enough to know that they only mate with warlocks. And he was a warlock.
And not interested in finding a mate.
“I know a bit, but I’m not an expert.”
“Well, according to Barbara, they’re not extinct. Legend says they were protected from a dangerous warlock who’s been trying to steal their power and control them,” Courtney said.
He’d never heard of The Tetrad being specifically a part of the Moonstone Guardians Pack, but then, from what he knew of Barbara Wolfe, she wouldn’t just offer that information up to a warlock. However, it made sense that she shared it with another wolf.
A pinch of guilt nudged at him. He shouldn’t pry. They didn’t realize that they should be keeping these cards tight to their vests. He knew…and said nothing.
“What else did she say?” he asked, pulling the stone from Maeve’s chest, taking her hand and helping her sit up.
“That the Moonstone Guardians are to mate with warlocks who bear the moonstone,” Courtney said, brushing Maeve’s hair from her face.
Maeve’s gaze landed on his cuff as he was putting it back onto his wrist. His eyes shot to hers and they froze.
“That’s moonstone,” Maeve whispered.
Courtney gasped.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
Chapter 5
Maeve splashed water on her face in the bathroom off Orion’s bedroom. The tears had left streaks down her pale skin, leaving her a blotchy mess. Glancing in the mirror, the shimmer of her hair caught her eye and she leaned in.
A streak of silver shot through the front wave of her long bangs and fell in line with her other curls.
“What the hell?” She went from looking young enough that she’d likely be carded into her sixties to a sweep of gray running through her hair?
She ran her fingers through the strands, the texture of the gray a bit more coarse than the rest.
The knock at the door startled her and she jumped, knocking Orion’s razor to the floor. “Just a minute,” she called.
She slapped her cheeks a couple of times in an attempt to look like a flesh and blood human, not like a lifeless shell sucked dry by a vampire.
She opened the door, to find Orion waiting on the other side.
“Where’s Courtney?” she asked, shifting awkwardly on her feet. She’d never officially met him. At least not that she could recall. The last thing she remembered before the vision was checking him out from afar and appreciating the view. Standing before him now hinted at an intimacy between them that she didn’t know how to deal with.
“She’s making tea,” he said.
He had that look about him, the kind of guy who could look just as comfortable in a three-piece suit as blue jeans and a flannel shirt. His cropped hair stood at an odd angle, as if he’d been shoving his hand through it in frustration.
She reached up, not an easy feat since he had to be at least six-four, and smoothed the strands as best she could. When her fingers met his hair, he flinched.
“I’m sorry. Your hair was just…never mind,” she murmured.
He reached out as if he was going to cup her chin, but dropped his hand before he touched her. “It’s not your fault. I’m just a little on edge. You scared us. And while we’re talking about hair, you seem to be sporting a racing stripe.”
“Yeah, a little souvenir from my trip into the past, it seems. But why would you be scared? You don’t even know me.”
“I may not know you, but I don’t relish the idea of people dying on my property. That is worrisome.”
Of course, that was it. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I guess it would be. I’m sorry we crashed your place and disrupted everything.”
“Actually, you might have helped. I’ve been having a problem breaking ground here, and after all that’s happened since you arrived I have a feeling your mother is at the heart of it,” he said, backing out of the doorway and gesturing for her to go by.
“
She buried something for me here,” Maeve said. Her brain was still trying to catch up to everything. Her parents hadn’t been her parents, but they had.
Her life, the past and the present, had been muddled up as if all the pieces of the life she had known had been tossed in a blender with the truth—ground up into one of those vile shakes that Courtney liked to make.
In a matter of an hour, after connecting so profoundly with the spot at which her birth mother had died, Maeve had begun to accept her new life, shifting the pieces of her history to make room for the new parts.
Accepting the adoption and birth mother seemed easy when she thought about how she had yet to shift and she was to mate with a warlock.
A warlock just like the one standing before her.
“Yes, and I’m hoping you’ll be able to dig it up,” he said, nodding toward the shovel by the door.
“Are you implying that you need my muscle?” she said, trying not to laugh at the idea.
“Funny, but no. I don’t think I can penetrate the soil because it’s been protected for you. If you can dig up whatever your mother left, I might have a shot at being able to do something with this patch of dirt,” he said.
“Who’s up for some tea?” Courtney called, carrying a tray out of the trailer kitchen.
“No thanks,” Maeve and Orion said in unison.
“Tea haters. It’s like you were made for each other,” Courtney muttered.
Maeve shot her a glare. She knew she didn’t mean it like that, it was one of those comments that just flew out of her mouth sometimes, but Courtney’s awkward observation about the moonstone still hung in the air like a bad smell.
Not that she didn’t find Orion attractive. Oh, quite the opposite, but she had a mate out there, not just any mate. How was she supposed to know who it was?
Maeve shuffled on her bare feet. “So, are there are a lot more of you out there? You know, warlocks who wear the moonstone?”
His mouth twitched at the question. “There are more than four, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that I wouldn’t want, well, not that I do… I mean, you’re attractive and all, but—” Could the earth just open up and swallow her right now, please? Why the hell couldn’t she shut up?
“I get it; it’s not me, it’s you. Look, if you’re not interested in that tea, you want to see what we can do by the tree?” Orion asked.
“Yes, please,” she said, grabbing his offer like a rescue rope being tossed to someone buried in quicksand up to their armpits.
Orion grabbed the shovel and the three of them headed for the base of the tree. She forced her feet to move, worried that if she got too close she might get sucked in again.
He leaned over to her. “It’s okay. You’re under a protection spell. Whatever had its grip on you can’t get to you now,” he reassured her.
“You’re sure?” she asked as her stomach flopped in anticipation of what they were about to do.
“I’m a warlock—I think I’d know,” he said.
“Well, if you’re so powerful, why didn’t you use your witchy powers to break ground?” she said, keeping her eyes on the spot where her mother died as she took small steps toward it, pausing after each one.
“You know, you’re not the first person who’s asked me that. It’s not like I run around waving a wand at everything I want.”
“You have a wand?” Courtney asked excitedly.
“Not the point, but yes. Don’t get too excited; I’ve never used it.”
“Then why do you have it?” Courtney asked.
“It was handed down to me.”
“Man, what a waste of witch powers. If I had powers I would be flying all over the place casting spells, smiting bastards, hell, I would rule the world,” Courtney said with her arms spread wide.
“Which is why it’s a good thing that you don’t have powers,” he muttered.
“Oh, come on, it’s not like I would destroy the good ones,” Courtney argued.
“Goodness is subjective. Who decides what’s good and bad?” he countered.
“Okay, I see your point, but jeez, are you always so responsible?”
“Yes.”
A nervous laugh bubbled from Maeve’s throat as she reached for the handle of the shovel. “Guys, if you don’t mind…a little focus, please. You can go back to squabbling when we’re done here.”
“Oh, sorry,” Courtney chirped.
She looked up to Orion. “I’m not sure what to do,” she admitted.
“Go for the spot that feels right in your gut, aim the shovel, and push down with your foot,” he said before raising his unusually dark blue eyes to her. “You’re not alone, Maeve. It’s okay.”
“Okay, here goes nothing,” she said, with a whole lot of confidence she didn’t feel.
She touched the tip of the shove to the ground where she had curled her hand into the dirt. Thunder cracked in the distance as she brought her foot down on the shovel, and it sank into the earth.
“We weren’t supposed to have storms today,” Courtney said as she gazed out to the clouds beginning to roll in.
“Don’t stop,” Orion said.
Goosebumps rose on her flesh at the look in his eyes; a flicker of red starbursts flared from his irises in a glow of pure excitement as his lips spread in a wide smile. Light broke through the clouds for the briefest of seconds, and in that moment his face took on a sinister glow.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
He blinked and glanced up, the red bursts in his eyes gone so fast she must have imagined it.
“Fine. Why?”
“No reason.” She shook off the nerves and sank the shovel in again. With the fifth attempt, the shovel hit something hard and bounced back at her.
She tossed the shovel aside and dropped to her knees, digging with her hands, pulling more and more dirt out—not giving one crap where it ended up in her pursuit of whatever her mother had buried for her.
She grew frantic as the silver of the urn came into view, desperate to hold something the mother she’d never known touched.
Orion crouched down next to her, but didn’t touch her. “Easy, Maeve. Go ahead and give it a tug,” he said.
She slid her hands into the dirt around the urn, and with a hard yank it popped out of the ground. She twisted the top and peeked inside, but couldn’t see anything.
“Try dumping it out,” Courtney said.
Maeve tipped it over the moss next to her, the contents slipping out and landing with a soft thump.
Maeve picked up the chain with some sort of Celtic symbol dangling from it. “I don’t know what it means.”
“Everlasting love,” Orion said quietly.
“How do you know that?” Courtney asked.
“Picked it up along the way I guess,” he said, glancing away, a tinge of pink staining his cheeks as if his knowledge of such things embarrassed him.
The necklace warmed in the palm of her hand. She unclasped it and secured it around her neck. That heat spread through her skin as if her mother was right there, wrapping her in a warm hug. “It’s like she’s holding me. I can’t explain it beyond that.”
“It’s okay, honey, no need to,” Courtney said, wrapping an arm around her.
Maeve picked up the small gray envelope and dumped the contents into her hand. She blinked down at four tiny locks of hair. “You don’t think…” She trailed off, unable to say the words.
“One way to find out,” Courtney said, nodding to the piece of paper.
Maeve opened it and scanned the script, smudged with what looked like dried blood.
My loves,
Danger is near and time is short.
Know that I love you all so very much.
Belen will do anything to possess your power. He’s ruthless and, as each of you is awakened to who you are, he’ll get stronger.
It will get easier for him to find you.
You’re alphas. You’re brave and powerful. Find e
ach other, find your mates, and together you’ll be strong enough to banish his evil from this world once and for all.
All my love and faith,
Mom
Maeve absorbed the pain lingering on the letter, blurring before her teary eyes. Careful to fold it up and preserve it for her sisters, and to comfort herself, she tucked it back in the envelope.
“We need to find out who Belen is,” Maeve said.
“Agreed,” Courtney said. “Any chance you know who he is?” she asked Orion.
“No, but I’ve never read the histories. The information could be in there, I just don’t know. I planned on starting my dig through them today.”
“I’ll give you our numbers; if you come across anything, can you give us a call?” Maeve asked.
“Of course,” he said.
She pushed to her feet and picked up the shovel. “No time like the present to see if this solved your construction problem,” Maeve said, handing it over to him.
“Guess not,” he said, taking the shovel and setting the tip to the moss a few feet away from Maeve’s hole. With a hop, he landed on the straight edges of the scoop and it cut cleanly into the ground, sinking until his feet hit the ground.
Maeve smiled. “Looks like your problem is solved.”
He smiled back, and then his eyes clouded over. “And yours are just beginning.”
She reached for the everlasting love symbol dangling against her skin and kissed it. “They are, but she had faith in me, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make her proud.”
“And I’ll start my research and see what I can find for you,” he said, giving her a warm smile.
“I’d like that. Thank you.”
“Are you ready to go?” Courtney asked.
Maeve raised her nose to the breeze and took a deep breath of the storm-charged air. “I’m ready to run.”
“Now? Are you sure this is a good idea to go from here your first time?” Courtney said, her eyes wide.
Maeve bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah…I don’t know how to explain it, but I need to. Can you take this for me?” she asked, tucking the letter back in the urn and trusting it to Courtney for safe-keeping.