by Teri Harman
But how do I face them all? I nearly killed them without even knowing.
I almost killed them.
I almost killed Willa.
He hung his head, thinking of the epic and dangerous failure of his challenge, wondering how things had escalated to that. A rustle in the grasses around the house made him lift his head. Koda emerged, tongue lolling out, panting.
“Koda! How on earth did you find me?”
The wolf trotted over and stood in front of him, nuzzling Simon’s hands with his nose. Simon rubbed at the wolf’s ears and marveled. He had no idea the Familiar bond was that strong. “What am I supposed to do?” Simon dropped his hand and again hung his head. “None of them will trust me, or feel safe around me again. There’s no coming back from this one.” He looked at his hands. “I want to fix it, but is there a way?”
The wolf sat, his golden eyes attentive, receptive.
“I should leave the Covenant. That’s the only way to fix it.”
Koda whined in protest.
“What else is there? I’m an unstable element. I put everyone at risk. And every time I try to do better, someone gets hurt . . . or worse” Simon turned his hands over, looked at the creases in his palms and the band of his wedding ring, and then added quietly, “If I don’t leave now, one day they will ask me to. If this keeps up, I may even lose Willa.”
Koda whimpered and licked his hands.
Simon scoffed. “I was so stupid to think I could learn to control this . . . this mistake.” He inhaled. Then added quietly, “This curse.” A crow landed in the dead garden to pick at the weeds. Simon watched its head bob up and down. The all too familiar headache returned, pulsing at the base of his skull. He rubbed at it and, with a groan, said, “I didn’t even know what I was doing. I didn’t even know!” He lashed out a fist, ramming it into the porch railing, knocking through two spindles. Instantly, he felt bad for it.
My childhood. My parents. The cave. The clock. The cliff. The challenge. The porch spindles.
Maybe my life has never been about healing. Maybe it’s always been about breaking things.
Simon didn’t want to let circumstances control him as they had for most of his life. He needed to learn to handle his powers—there had to be a way. But he couldn’t do it while in the Covenant. The risks were too great. This was something he had to do on his own. He’d told Willa after finding Koda that he had a choice, but he’d made the wrong one before.
The wolf blinked, stepped closer, and rested his chin on Simon’s knee. The witch put his hand on the wolf’s head. “Maybe leaving doesn’t have to be permanent, but I have to go. I have to get away from everyone so that I can’t hurt them anymore. Once they are all safe, I’ll train; I’ll learn. I’ll get this under control if it kills me.” Rowan, Wynter, and Willa would say that he couldn’t do it on his own, that he needed the support of the covens, but that had yet to work. His powers had been fine until joining the covens.
A new idea formed in his head. Maybe the Covenant was the problem. Maybe something about the high concentration of magic created a recipe for disaster for him. Maybe his tangle of powers would never be able to handle being around so many other witches. The logic of it was grim, depressing, but made perfect sense. He didn’t just have to leave the Covenant for their good, but his own.
So maybe I can’t come back?
But what about Willa? She’d always been a grounding influence, always able to pull him from the edge; but was it selfish to take her with him? If she came, she would be in danger. If she came, she had to leave everything she loved. The space behind his heart flared with burning pain. The image of her lying over the side of the pit—her skin gray, her lips cracked—made him feel like his legs had been swept out from under him. He flinched. He’d hurt her twice now. He couldn’t stand the possibility of hurting her any more.
But walking away would also hurt her, deeply, and far worse than any physical injury. Because now he wasn’t just a boyfriend and soul mate walking away, now he was a husband and soul mate. If he left without her, he severed the knot, he broke the promises.
Simon fingered his wedding ring.
One of the promises he’d made was to protect her, to always do what was best for her. But what was best? She’d proved today during the challenge that she was fully capable of protecting herself.
If the Covenant magic created problems with his magic, did their soul mate bond do the same thing? Most of his freakish displays of power involved his love for her, his concern for her safety. Did his powers make it impossible for him to safely be with her as well as the covens? Did his misfit powers doom him to be alone, truly alone? The idea cut him deep.
How did he know? How did he decide?
Koda lifted his head and whined quietly. Simon’s whole body filled with a crackling, broken pain. “I have to leave her,” he whispered as tears filled his eyes.
The crow cawed and lifted into the air.
No one said a word for several minutes after Simon ran from the field. They huddled together, wrapped in silence. Willa stood apart looking at the trail he’d made in the dry grass, her heart breaking, her throat raw from calling after him. She didn’t want to look back and see the worry in her coven-mates’ faces, didn’t want to wonder what they were thinking or what they might say.
Oh, Simon.
Footsteps crunched behind her; and she braced, not ready to talk to anyone. Wynter stepped next to her, took her hand. For many long moments, she said nothing. Then, “Willa, we love Simon so much.”
Willa looked over, her eyes instantly wet with tears. “Aren’t they afraid of him? We’ve never talked about it, but they worry. I know they do.”
“This is a Covenant, Willa, a Light Covenant, we are bound to each other even beyond death. Yes, everyone is shaken, worried, but not about Simon—for Simon. The thing that hurts us the most is not being able to help him.”
Willa’s face fell into tears. “I gave him answers. And it only made things worse!” She sobbed for a moment. “What will we do? He’ll want to leave; he’ll think he has to. He’s been on the edge of it for months. This will push him over that edge, and I have no way to pull him back.” She looked at his trodden trail. “What if he won’t come back?”
Wynter wiped a tear from her own cheek. “Then we’ll go get him.”
“And then what? More training? We have nothing to offer him to make it better.”
“We have a stable support system. Something he’s never had and never expects. You are his wife now and we his family. If there is a way for him to gain control of his powers, then we will find it together.”
“And what if there isn’t?” Willa swallowed, her fear tightening her throat. “What if there isn’t a way to make it better? I thought knowing why would help, but look what happened. What if every turn he takes ends in hurt? Eventually, it will break him. It will ruin him.”
Wynter blinked. “Willa, I . . . oh, my dear, then we will do our best to pick up the pieces.”
Willa collapsed to the ground, sobbing freely, sucking in dry air.
He’s not coming.
Sun and moon, what happens if he doesn’t come?
Simon, where are you?!
Willa stood on the sidewalk in front of the Plate’s Place, arms crossed, eyes roaming up and down the street. They’d waited at the field as long as they could, but Simon didn’t come back. She’d have called him, but his phone sat on the desk in their room.
A nauseating sense of panic twisted in the bottom of her stomach; and, no matter how much she rubbed them, her hands remained ice cold. She’d tried to reach out through their connection, but she only got empty silence. He was either too far away or blocking her.
Koda was nowhere to be found either. Willa hoped the wolf had gone to find Simon, that at least he wouldn’t be completely alone. And that maybe the Familiar could bring him home.
Bring him home, Koda. If he doesn’t come back soon, I’ll lose him.
Willa’s mind filled
with the scenes of the unbelievable things he’d done. She, Charlotte, and Elliot had watched from the edge of the field, not speaking as they marveled at Simon’s abilities. Even when his leg had been crushed by the log, he wasn’t beaten.
Then the pit.
Darby and Cal with their unrelenting white flames.
“He’ll never beat those flames,” Elliot had whispered, his face pinched in concern. “They are too strong.”
When the irrigation ditch had run dry and the grass under their feet turned to dust, Willa’s worry became its own flame in her chest. That’s when she’d ran to the edge of the pit. Soon everyone gathered close, watching, like horrified spectators at a carnival freak show. Willa turned to Rowan, standing behind her, his eyes wide and body stiff. “You have to stop it, Rowan!”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he turned away from her and watched as a tree was sucked dry of all its moisture.
“Darby, Cal—stop!” They ignored her too, the same transfixed, fascinated look on their faces. She knew they’d keep pushing. Just like when they’d buried her and Simon alive—they had to see how far Simon could go.
She dropped to her knees at the edge of the pit. “Simon!” Charlotte ran up behind her, grabbed her shoulders.
“Willa, get back before you get hurt!”
“No!” she yelled, shrugging her off. Before Charlotte could try again, all of them were suddenly doubled over in pain. Willa collapsed to her side, her throat burning with thirst. Inside her body, it felt like small hooks had caught onto her tissues, dragging them forward. When she opened her eyes, she watched in horror as tiny droplets of water beaded up on her skin and then flitted away through the air toward the pit.
“Simon,” she gasped, realization taking her breath away. Then, because her throat was sand paper, she used her mind in one last effort. Simon!
Standing now, on the sidewalk, Willa shivered. She looked down at her arms, the memory of the water being pulled from her body a loud echo on her emotions. Poor Simon. His face when she’d told him what he’d done, the heart-breaking realization, and the overwhelming shock. How could he not have known? What did that mean about his powers?
Willa exhaled.
The street was still empty, and Willa’s body ached to have a task, something to take her mind off the wait and wonder. She spun around and hurried toward the house. She still needed to pack their things for the early morning flight to Oregon. As she climbed the front steps, she gave herself a weak pep talk. He’ll make it. Get things ready, and he’ll be here.
By nightfall, Willa had everything packed, but Simon had not returned. Mad with worry, sitting on the curb, huddled over her knees, her nerves became a jittery mess.
“Willa, it’s late,” Char said from behind her. “Come inside; eat something. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”
Willa rounded on her friend. “How do you know, Char? You don’t know anything about it!” Anger heating her cheeks, Willa turned away, feeling only a slight amount of remorse for lashing out at innocent Charlotte. “Leave me alone!”
Charlotte stood for a moment, and then retreated to the house without a word. Willa was both sad and grateful. She didn’t need anyone hovering over her, trying to make it better. Better didn’t exist. But, oh, how she wanted some comfort! Some solid way to know that it would be okay, that Simon would be back, and that they’d find a way to fix everything.
But Simon wasn’t back, and with each hour that passed the likelihood of him returning decreased.
Willa looked down the dark, empty street. Silent tears slipped down her cold cheeks and fell into the gutter.
Midnight. Willa’s hope wasted away, sitting heavy in her gut, a shriveled chunk of garbage.
1:15 a.m. I’ll never see him again!
2:24 a.m. Eyes like sandpaper, she allowed herself to lie down on the park strip grass, fighting the urge to let sleep erase the pain. Stay awake! Stay awake! The night was warm, but she shivered.
3:02 a.m. Willa blinked up at the pattern of white stars, bright and mocking in their peaceful beauty. Then she rolled over and fell asleep, Simon’s name on her lips.
4:30 a.m. Arms lifting her from the dewy grass. “Simon?” she said, starting to wake, her heart pounding. “No, lass,” Rowan answered. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.” She passed out again, partly from exhaustion and partly from disappointment.
6:50 a.m. Willa woke suddenly, confused, disoriented. Instead of the park strip grass, she lay in their cozy bed, the quilt tucked up to her chin. She flopped over, hoping to find Simon lying next to her, but found only a lonely pillow.
Voices came from downstairs, and foolish hope churned in her gut. Is that Simon? She threw back the covers and ran from the room. Half way down the stairs, a flicker of instinct made her stop: something in the sound of the words being said, the frantic, almost whispered tone of the voices. She froze, ears straining.
“It’s too dangerous,” Darby said to mumbles of agreement. The whole Covenant sat together in the living room.
“We have to help him,” Wynter said. “We can’t just turn him away.”
Willa’s heart squeezed shut. She gripped the banister so hard her joints hurt.
“But we don’t know what we’re dealing with,” Rain added. “His powers are wicked scary and obviously dangerous. What happened today was not some small accident, like being able to explode dirt or light candles.”
“He puts us all at risk,” Cal agreed. “Perhaps we jumped the gun, Binding the Covenant before we knew more about his powers.”
“I’m training him. I’m working with him,” Rowan defended. “He just needs time.”
“How can you train something you don’t understand, Rowan?” Darby asked softly. “His abilities are the result of a Dark spell gone wrong. Who knows what that might mean?”
“He’s not even a true Mind. He’s a Water, a Mind, and a Healer,” Cal said. “That throws off the balance of our circles. Maybe that’s why none of our spells work as well as they should. And why the Covenant magic is not as strong as it’s supposed to be. Maybe his condition has crippled the bond.”
Hot tears slipped down Willa’s cheeks as she silently lowered herself to the stairs, hugging her knees to her chest. She closed her burning eyes, dropped her forehead to her knees. Are they right?
Wynter said in a strained voice, “There is nothing Dark about poor Simon. He’s as much a victim as Amelia and Solace.”
A tense, silent pause. A pause of doubt.
Willa held in a sob, her chest aching.
Finally, Charlotte said, “Even if his strange gifts are affecting the magic, he deserves our help.”
“But we are about to go after resurrected Archard,” Cal said. “It’s going to be bad, really bad. We barely survived the last fight. Is it worth keeping the Covenant together, knowing Simon may lose control in a fight and kill us all?” He scoffed. “Hell, he may do Archard’s job for him.”
Wynter gasped. “Cal! That’s not fair. How—”
Another voice cut in, and Willa’s head jerked up.
“It’s okay, Wynter,” Simon said, his voice low and dangerous. Before she knew it, Willa flew down the stairs and into the living room, ready to throw herself at Simon. But the sight that greeted her brought her to a jarring halt. Simon stood in the doorway from the kitchen, face pale, hair a mess, shoes dusty and fists tight at his sides. Koda flanked him, wolf eyes bearing down on Cal. “Cal is right. This is all my fault. I’m making everything harder. So I’m leaving after we do this spell in Oregon.”
Chapter 37
Black Moon
July—Present Day
Simon’s hands trembled, his mind a hurricane of the words he’d overheard. Holy moon! What if they’re right? It made sense. Cal’s logic was sound. His unnatural gifts were a mess. Of course they messed up the Covenant Bond, as much as the Covenant magic messed up his powers. The problems ran both ways. All this time it was me.
The assault of negative emotions all centered
on him turned his stomach. He’d been expecting it, but the reality of it almost knocked him over. He wanted to say something; he’d planned his apology, but now the words were lodged in his throat. I shouldn’t have come back.
Willa stumbled around the sofas and grabbed his arm. Cal started to fumble out an apology. She jerked her head to him. “No, stop! No more. We will meet you all at the airport.” Without waiting for a response, she tugged Simon after her, up the stairs and into their room.
She slammed the door shut behind them with magic, rattling the objects on the mantel. She pressed her hands flat to Simon’s chest and then shoved him as hard as she could. “Don’t ever do that to me again!” she yelled, fresh angry tears running down her face. “Not ever! How could you be so selfish?!”
Simon stumbled backwards, met with the bed, and nearly fell. Startled but not surprised by her anger, he dropped his head. “I know. I’m so sorry. I just . . .”
She threw herself at him, pounding her fists into his chest. Simon let her, knowing he deserved it. “All night! All night I sat in the gutter waiting, wondering.” She punched harder. “How could you do that to me?” Her anger gave way to fitful sobs, and Simon hated himself more than ever before.
He trapped her wrists. “Willa, I’m so sorry . . .” Before he could complete his thought she pulled her hands free and threw her arms around his neck. Simon pulled her tight, burying his face in her hair. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I needed time to think. What I did . . .”
Willa sighed and drew in a wavering breath. “I know.”
Simon blinked and drew back. “You’re right though.” More guilt swelled in his gut. “It was selfish to stay away, and even more to come back like this.”