Rose was reeling from Lucien’s betrayal, and yet she couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t his fault. He was under that she-witches spell. They all were! And Caia was going to bring the pack to disaster. Lucien and his pack were good people, nothing like the ambitious, deceitful pack she had grown up in where your best friend would stab you in the back if it meant climbing up the next rung on the hierarchical ladder. She had to save them from Caia, from themselves, and then she and Lucien could finally be happy together. Marita wasn’t a bad person! It dumbfounded her how all these people could believe that a woman who had successfully led the Daylight Coven against the Midnights could suddenly just become a monster. This was a witch hunt started by a being that needed to be stopped. And if Rose helped Marita stop Caia, she was sure she could negotiate a pardon for the pack. Trembling with excitement Rose dialled the number. It rung out for a while, but finally the tone clicked.
“Rose,” Marita’s familiar stern voice.
Relief washed through her. “Oh thank goddess, Marita. Do you know why I’m calling?”
“Hmm, yes, I’m reading the trace. Very interesting. What is interesting is I don’t know where you are.”
Rose paused. “I can’t tell you that just yet.”
“I see.” She was silent for a moment. “Fine. I appreciate you calling, however. And this information I’m reading in the trace about this Septum and this little girl. It’s all true?”
“Yes,” Rose gushed. “Caia’s planning on destroying the trace.”
Marita hissed, “That little bitch.”
Rose waited, her ears lifting under her hair every time she heard a noise. No one could know she was doing this. They just wouldn’t understand right now.
“I want you to keep pretending you’re on their side, Rose. Contact me if you discover anything else of importance.”
“Of course.”
“And Rose.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t forget your loyalty.”
25 – Last Mistake
Caia was dancing with Lucien, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as they swayed gently to the music. A soft breeze played with the hem of her dress and tickled through her hair as she sighed contentedly. It was a perfect night. The dark sky sewn bright with stars as colourful as fireflies, the air temperate and free, the sound of the surf crashing on shore as rhythmic as a lullaby.
“I love you,” she whispered and felt him squeeze her close.
“I love you, too.”
Caia pulled back to gaze up at him, smiling at the relief of it all being over, that they could finally be together in peace.
“Caia,” he breathed… and the sound was followed by a sickening wet whisper of metal through flesh. Lucien’s eyes widened in surprise, his mouth falling open in shock – blood began pouring out in its wake. He collapsed to his knees and Caia reached for him with a soundless scream, helpless to do anything as the sword that had torn through his heart twisted full circle. Lucien’s eyes emptied, his expression going slack as he disappeared, leaving only a body that tumbled down into the sand, a gory photograph of what had once been the real man.
“NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!” Caia screamed falling beside his body, stunned out of action as she glanced around for the killer. There was no one there. A sob broke out from deep in her heart and she cried over her mate’s corpse.
The cold solidity of it vanished and Caia fell face first into the sand. Propping herself up, spitting the beach out of her mouth, her hands searched the ground for Lucien. He was gone. Looking around she realised she was no longer on the beach. She was in a room that seemed familiar. A child’s room filled with toys and books. Familiar toys and books. A scream rent the air and terror exploded throughout her. Mama! She cried inwardly, hugging her small knees to her chest, shuffling further back against the headboard of the bed she now sat on. Growls and howls reached her ears from the outside and she jumped at the crescendo of items crashing on the ground floor of the house.
“ELIZA!” She heard her father scream, and she scrambled forward on the bed, hearing his footsteps pounding down the hall. Her bedroom door burst open and her father stood there, pale and grief stricken. He clutched his chest and it was then she noticed the swamp of thick blood soaking his entire upper body.
“Run,” he ordered hoarsely, and then collapsed to the floor.
Instinct took hold. She was always to listen to daddy! Shutting out the sight of him dying on her floor she turned to the tall window beside her bed and hitched it up with all her might. Rucking up her night gown, her whole body trembling, she began climbing through it and fumbled for purchase on the wall creeper that allowed her mother’s ivy to neatly decorate the wall outside. A blast of power shot past her shoulder, sending shards of glass in every direction. She felt little cuts slice through her skin like bee stings but it only made her move faster. She swung herself fully onto the creeper and began scuttling down it. Thank goddess she was on the first floor.
“GET HER!” She heard an unfamiliar voice scream as her bare feet touched grass. She turned and stared out over the garden. Beyond the garden was her father’s land and beyond that a lake and beyond that woods. If she could get to the woods she could hide.
Caia jerked awake, sucking in a rush of air in her panic. Eliza. The little girl from the Septum! The little girl may not have recognised the voice that screamed ‘Get her!”’ but Caia would know it anywhere. Marita was going after Eliza Emerett and it was all her fault. She jumped out of the bed she had been given in the hotel and hurried into her clothing. She had to save Eliza and there was no time to wait. Drawing on her energy, she used a communication spell to take her to Vil and Laila’s room praying she wouldn’t interrupt anything. It was daytime after all. She snorted at herself. Like that would stop them. Thankfully she didn’t, but her energy shook the two magiks awake from a nap.
“Caia, wha-”
“I have no time to explain.” She rushed to Vil, throwing his jeans at him. “Put these on and take me to Eliza Emerett’s home. Specifically the gardens!”
Caia had never adored anyone more in that moment as he pulled on his jeans and gripped her arm without a word of question. She could have kissed him!
The travel was rocky, probably because Vil was still half asleep, so they got there feeling a little woozy. The sounds of growls and shrieks met their ears instantly and Vil paled as he realised what she had gotten them into. Perusing their surroundings, her heart gave a thump as she saw the little white figure in the dark a few hundred yards ahead of them.
“There, Vil, take me to her!” She pointed and they were gone again, and then back within seconds.
“Oommph!” Vil grunted and Caia shook herself together in time to see Vil wrap his arms around Eliza who had ran straight into them. She began struggling and crying and he fought to hold on to her.
A howl shot through the night and Caia looked up to see six lykans crossing through the gardens towards them. Oh bloody Hades!
“Vil, this is Eliza Emerett and those are Marita’s lykans. Take her back to the pack. Now!”
His eyes widened as he struggled to hold the hysterical girl. “What about you?!”
“Never mind me. Go! That’s an order!”
Stunned and unhappy, he gripped Eliza and then vanished.
Heart thudding in her chest, Caia turned to face the lykans and sought the warm heat of her lykan energy. She was a wolf in seconds.
A wolf that was ready to destroy those who had killed Eliza’s parents and were hell bent on spilling the little girl’s innocent blood.
She drew back her muzzle as they drew nearer, snarling and posturing, thick saliva dripping over her jaws. With a harsh howl of her own she propelled herself forward, launching herself at the nearest lykan, her claws slashing across its fur. The lykan whined but managed to swipe at her, making contact and tugging her body close so they were locked in a fight, jaws nipping, bodies tumbling as each tried to gain an advantage over the other.
Finally,
Caia managed to protract her claws into the lykan’s belly and pull upwards. The lykan howled and went limp. Dragging herself out from under its injured form, Caia found herself outflanked by five other lykans; Marita and an unfamiliar magik stood at their backs, smiling smugly.
“Oh, dear Caia. You are in a pickle now, aren’t you?”
“Not quite.”
Caia jerked her head around at the voice. Vil and Jaeden stood before them, Jae’s hand outstretched, face fierce with concentration.
A baffled yell.
Caia watched with pleasure as Marita and the magik were blasted a good hundred yards away from them.
A sharp, piercing pain ripped through Caia’s side and she yelped at the attack, shaking the wolf off in order to turn around and face it. In her peripheral, she witnessed Jaeden utilising her telekinesis on the wolves and was distractedly stunned. Magik wasn’t supposed to work on lykans! What the Hades…
But the thought drifted away as she was forced to spar with the bigger lykan, the wound in her side slowing her down. Just as she was about to dive on the lykan, a blur of fur beat her to it, the two wolves tumbling and rolling together. She watched in amazement before a crunching noise unsettled her stomach and only one of the wolves got up. His silver eyes glared at her. Lucien. Oh thank gods. His warning growl told her to whirl around. She did, just in time to see another lykan leap at her. Falling under him, his huge jaws descending towards her, Caia gave a hopeless swat that barely stirred him. A massive weight collided with them and the wolf was thrown off her. A familiar brown wolf, his muzzle peeled back in a fierce growl, stood over her, his head bent low, telling the lykan she was under his protection. Ryder! She had never been happier to see two people in all her life. Rolling up onto her fours, Caia quickly took in Lucien and Ryder dealing quite nicely with the remaining lykans. Vil was nowhere to be seen, however, and she hoped to Gaia he had returned to the pack.
Her heart jolted at the sight of Jaeden pinned to the ground by magik, Marita and her companion grinning evilly down at her. This time Caia took control of the icy vapour that was her magik energy and used it to move her through the change instantaneously, clothing her naked form before it could be chilled by the crisp night air of the English countryside. She sent a shock of water out, forcing the pressurised liquid into the mouth of Marita’s companion, flooding his lung cavity. Panic suffused his features and he dropped to the ground, clawing at his throat and gasping silently. Marita looked up sharply, forgetting Jaeden and clearly feeling no compunction to save her companion. Caia held on tight to the water that was suffocating the magik, even as she trembled with fear at Marita’s stoic face. They took quiet steps towards one another as if there wasn’t a miniature battle going on behind Caia’s back.
“I’m going to kill you slowly,” Marita said quietly, knowing Caia would hear her anyway with her lykan hearing.
Before Caia could respond, the air shimmered with energy, and Marion and Saffron appeared behind Marita’s shoulder causing Caia’s eyes to widen and her grip on the other magik to loosen. She was pretty sure he was unconscious anyway.
Marita paused, her entire body tensing with the unexpected, her eyes telling Caia she couldn’t believe it.
“The only person that will be dying today sister… is you,” Marion bit out.
Marita’s eyes widened in disbelief and she spun around to face her sister. “It can’t be… you were dead. I felt it in the trace.”
Marion smirked. “You really aren’t very good with that trace, Marita. I think it’s best we give it to Caia after all.”
With a shriek of unchecked ire, Marita sent an animalistic stream of fire rushing at her sister, its body hissing and diving in attack. Marion easily deflected it with a mere swipe of her hand. “Is that all?”
Marita’s retort was a wall of fire that encircled her sister from head to foot. Heart pounding, skin hot from the roaring fire, Caia immediately envisioned a waterfall that appeared over Marion’s head, obliterating the flames. Unfortunately, it doused Marion as well, and she threw Caia a bemused look, a look they shared in just enough time for Marita to utilise magik to suspend Jae into the air. When Jaeden began screaming Caia couldn’t work out why, until she realised Marita was scoring burn marks into her with invisible flames. An untold fury took possession of Caia in that moment, refusing to let Jae experience once more second of that kind of torture after having survived it at the hands of Caia’s uncle, Ethan. She thrust her hands out and up and a tidal wave of water the likes of which she had never conjured before towered over Marita like a python readying to strike. Caia gave a jerk of her head, parting a curtain in the wave so as it descended towards Marita it bypassed Jaeden. A yell was muffled into a gurgle as the wave crashed to the ground, whooshing across the grass and taking a bedraggled and spluttering Marita with it. Her magik let go of Jaeden and the lykan tumbled to the ground.
“My goddess, Caia,” Marion’s voice broke through and she looked up to see the magik smiling at her in wonderment. “That was very cool.”
Well, brace yourself, because there’s going to be more! She thought, as she began striding towards Marita, who was pulling herself out of the water with a stream of curses. She straightened in time to see Caia heading determinedly for her and her eyes widened.
Then they narrowed in hatred before she disappeared altogether.
“NO!!” Caia screamed in frustration. She wasn’t getting away from her that easily! This had to end, it had to end now! And Caia no longer cared how.
In an instinct that should have cost her, her life, she made the decision to travel somewhere she had never been before… a feat that could only be performed by a Traveller, a magik with Vil’s particular gifts. Marion had told Caia that Marita was most probably staying at this inn, a condemned building in a small village in Central Scotland.
Take me there, she whispered to her energy, squeezing her eyes shut and drawing on every ounce of magik that belonged to her. The travel seemed to take forever, moving through a black tunnel at warp speed, flashes of coloured lights exploding in her eyes as a raw sickening pain bubbled under every inch of her skin. With a thud, she collapsed on gritty ground, pebbles piercing her skin as she heaved forward, the contents of her stomach decorating what looked like a short driveway. She shuddered and convulsed, her flesh and insides so raw it was as if a butcher had taken a meat hammer to her. When at last she stilled, lying prone on the stoned driveway, Caia looked up through her hair to see a gothic looking inn perched on top of a small hill. Breathing deeply, she pulled herself to her feet, swaying a little, and gave her surroundings a fleeting look. A road ran up the side of the inn leading to a residential area and below the hill was what appeared to be a main road with another road branching off of it leading to the houses that were stacked behind a tall wooden fence some yards down from the inn itself. It was pitch dark and there was not another soul around.
Thank goddess Eliza’s family lived in England or Caia might not have survived a longer distance to travel. She examined the inn carefully. It was old, all of its windows and doors boarded up with DANGEROUS KEEP OUT sprayed across the main door in red spray paint. She almost snorted at that. These people had no idea just how dangerous the contents of the inn were. The thought of what she had to do next made her want to throw up again, but Caia braced herself. It was now or never. With another forceful push of her energy as she transported herself to the inside of the inn, a sharp pain exploding in her upper thigh. She bit back a yelp, but her efforts were in vain as she tumbled against the obstacle that had thrust into her leg and undone her, sending her crashing to the floor with a muffled ‘oomph’. Damn table.
See, this was why Travelling was for the professionals.
Flipping herself over, Caia lay on her back panting and let her eyes drink in her surroundings. The inside of the inn was like a palace, every inch of it decorated exactly to Marita’s Renaissance-style taste.
She wanted to burn it to the ground!
The sound o
f shuffling to her left seized hold of her heart and she stiffened. A painful heat gripped her entire length and pinned her to the floor. She struggled against the magikal hold but there was no budging, and every time she tried to pierce it with her own magik she got nowhere. As five faces popped into view above her, Caia realised why. Five magiks, one of which was Marita, had combined their powers to keep her trapped. She sneered at that, feeling a little smug that it had taken the five of them to best her.
But best you they have, you idiot.
Frantically, she began to struggle again as the import of the situation sunk in. She was going to die here. She was going to die right here in this spot any minute now.
“Caia,” Marita snapped, “Stop struggling. The least you can do is die with a little dignity.”
Caia tried to speak, to curse the evil witch for all eternity but nothing came out.
Marita snickered. “Cat got your tongue, Caia. I can’t believe you and my sister deceived me so well. After I kill you, I’m going to have to leave this place and then I’m going to have to hunt down my deceitful, wicked shrew of a sister and kill her too.”
At the thought of Marita hurting Marion her struggles grew more intense.
“Tut tut, Caia, you’re only wasting your energy. I like the fact that my killing Marion distresses you so. In fact, I’m not going to stop there. I’m going to kill everyone you care about. Your pack. That little Midnight bitch and her boyfriend Traveller. As for your best friend, Jaeden, well… I’m going to give her a little taste of what your Uncle Ethan gave to her before I cut her open to see how she acquired telekinesis. It’s the damndest thing you know. Oh, you don’t like that at all do you.”
Blood Solstice: Part Three in the Tale of Lunarmorte Page 21