‘What did the blast look like? Was it black like the Warlock Lightning we’ve seen?’
Shelley blinked back the persistent burn of tears and scanned the page. ‘No. That’s why I didn’t make the connection. Although, Catellyn does make mention that the colour was different, like there was a shadow on it.’
‘The Darkness had got inside him,’ Iain said.
‘Perhaps. But I don’t think it had. I just think it’s an indication that it had become darker magic. Dark magic isn’t simply called that because of the evil often associated with it, but because the magic itself is not the brilliant colours seen in the light magic we use.’
‘If it was dark magic, that would make it the perfect vehicle for the Darkness to use to get inside someone,’ Eloise said, her expression grim.
Iain nodded. ‘Yes. It seems to thrive on taking something good and turning it to evil use. Like what it did with the Were centuries ago. What it did to River. And Eloise’s foot.’
Shelley rubbed at her brow. ‘In this instance, you’re probably right. Cain was taken over by the Darkness, so it makes sense that it had become part of his power. And it’s why the wound isn’t responding to Bron’s healing.’
‘Could it turn him? Adam?’ Eloise asked, voice threaded with worry.
‘I don’t know.’ She looked around, trying desperately to think, to ignore the pained expression on Adam’s face. ‘It never really took over the Were—just separated the human and wolf halves so they were in constant struggle with themselves. And it never really had a proper hold of River either, only manifesting as the Beast when River lost control during the full moon. And it never really took over you, either, Eloise. In fact, it was kept so suppressed, the only way it could manifest was in the physical twisting of your ligaments. I don’t think it can truly thrive in something that is, at its essence, good.’
‘So you acknowledge that I’m good. That’s an improvement.’
She couldn’t suppress the snort of laughter at Adam’s words, but she turned it into a cough and said out the side of her mouth, ‘Good, not shit-hot.’
Adam’s chortle of laughter warmed something needy inside her, and the sadness she’d experienced while relating Catellyn’s words faded so it was no longer oppressive. Then she noticed the tears glistening in Eloise’s eyes. Laughter died. ‘Oh God. What did I say?’
Iain shook his head gently as he took Eloise’s hands in his, stroking his thumb over the backs of her hands. ‘It’s Cain. What you said means that Cain was never good. Because, if he was …’
‘Then the Darkness wouldn’t have been able to take a hold of him like it has.’
Oh crap. She hadn’t thought of that. ‘I’m sorry. I could be wrong. I probably am …’
‘No. You’re not.’ Eloise rubbed her face with the back of her hand, wiping away the tears. ‘Cain was always good to me, but there was always something wrong inside him. I knew it, right from when we were young. He didn’t love me like I loved him. It was more … ownership to him.’ She swallowed painfully. ‘He was broken. Something is missing in him, isn’t it?’ She looked up at Iain, who nodded, sadly.
‘He’s a sociopath.’
Her brow furrowed at Patrick’s words. ‘Yes. But now he’s something so much worse.’ Eloise turned to Shelley, her eyes seeming to glow gold as she met Shelley’s gaze. ‘He’s beyond saving.’
‘You okay, Little Bird?’ Iain slid off his chair and knelt next to hers, his arm hooking around her waist to pull her close.
She nuzzled into him. ‘I’m okay.’ She cupped his face and kissed his cheek. ‘Really.’
‘You sure?’
‘I’m sure.’ She kissed his lips, soft, gentle.
Shelley had to look away.
‘You okay, Kitten?’
She shook her head but didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. How could she when what she wanted to say would come out as a scream to the universe for its cruelty. She could barely stand her own pain and yet she was constantly barraged by other people’s—the pain of the dead, the pain of the living. And it had become so much worse since she’d erupted with the banshee scream at Ostara. But the pain that was worst of all was the one bound up in the man standing at her side. A man nobody but her could see. A man, who, if she didn’t figure out the secrets of the past hidden in these diaries and grimoires, might never come back to her. What would she do if he was no longer there, making her burn with a terrifying mix of anger and passion? Even though she couldn’t—and never would—do anything about it, she didn’t think she could stand him not being there.
How had her life come to this? It was meant to be controlled, easy, serene. Since meeting the Were the previous August, her well-ordered life had exploded in her face. She wished she could hate them for it, but it was no more their fault than it was hers.
It was Morrigan’s. And the Darkness.
She stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. The others looked up, startled. But she didn’t care. She simply turned to Adam. ‘We can’t let them win.’
‘What do you want to do?’
‘I have to talk to the spirits.’
He grinned. ‘You up for that?’
‘I’ve never felt more up for it.’
‘Then let’s get going.’
She started walking towards the door.
‘Where are you going?’ Iain asked.
‘To the McClune pack lands. I need to talk to Adeline and a few others and they’re not leaving Bron at the moment.’
Iain and Eloise stood, Patrick following.
‘Who were you just speaking with?’ Iain asked as he brushed past her to open the front door.
She looked questioningly at Adam. He nodded. ‘Tell them.’
‘I was talking to Adam.’
Chapter 11
She shouldn’t have said that. She really shouldn’t have.
‘You can see Adam?’ Eloise’s voice broke the deathly silence.
Beside her, Adam blew out his breath. ‘Fuck, I’m glad someone spoke. That silence was beginning to kill me for real.’
Shelley choked on a laugh and glared at him. ‘Yes. I can hear him. Annoying as usual.’
He grinned at her.
‘Has he died?’ Iain asked, voice tight with grief.
‘No!’ She gripped his arm. ‘No. His body is still alive.’
‘Then how can you see him?’
‘I don’t know. I just can. I could see him right after it happened, the same time as I saw Marcus’ spirit rise from his body.’
‘Did I rise from my body?’
She blinked at Adam’s question. ‘No. You didn’t. You were just suddenly there.’
‘Weird.’
‘You’re talking to him now?’ Patrick asked.
‘Yes.’
‘What’s he saying?’
‘Nothing particularly enlightening.’
‘Sounds like Adam.’
‘Hey!’ Adam reached across her and punched Patrick—his hand went right through the younger Were, who didn’t even move or indicate in any way that he’d felt Adam at all.
‘Damn it!’ Adam snarled. ‘I was pissed. That should have worked.’
Shelley would have snorted, but his shoulder had brushed her breast as he’d reached past her. It was like touching an electric fence.
‘What’s wrong?’ Eloise asked, her gaze pinioned on Shelley’s face.
‘Nothing. We should probably get going.’
‘Good idea.’ Iain led them out to his four-wheel drive. Eloise hopped in the front next to Iain, Patrick on Shelley’s left and Adam to her right in the back seat.
As soon as they were on their way, Eloise swung around, her green-gold gaze disturbingly knowing. ‘That didn’t look like nothing before. You jumped. And your face went red. Did Adam do something?’
Shelley couldn’t escape that assessing look. ‘He just punched Patrick for what he said.’
‘He did?’ Patrick looked down at hims
elf. ‘Is he still doing it?’
‘No, I’m not still doing it, you git,’ Adam grumbled. ‘What’s the point of hitting someone if they can’t even feel it?’
‘Perhaps you shouldn’t hit in the first place.’
Adam’s eyes widened as he turned to look at her. ‘Says she who hits first and talks later.’
She crossed her arms over her chest, surreptitiously rubbing the place Adam had touched—her skin still tingled. ‘I’m not that bad.’
‘Not that bad what?’ Iain asked. ‘You know, it’s very annoying when you can’t hear the entire conversation.’
‘It’s equally annoying when you can hear it.’
Patrick snorted. ‘Especially when it’s Adam you’re hearing.’
‘Hey again! Excuse me,’ Adam said as he reached behind Shelley—she ducked forward to avoid the risk of him touching her again—and smacked Patrick in the head. Patrick’s head shoved forward.
‘Hey!’ He turned to look at Shelley who crouched forward on her seat. ‘What the hell was that?’
‘You felt him?’
‘You felt me?’
‘That was Adam?’
She sat up slowly. ‘What did it feel like?’
‘I don’t know.’ He was touching the back of his head. ‘It was like my head got shoved by a cold wind. Kind of. It wasn’t really like a person touching me. More like …’ He stopped, mouth working.
‘You’d been punched by a pillow?’
‘I’m hardly a pillow,’ Adam objected.
‘Yeah, kind of. But even less specific than that. You know?’
‘Yeah. I do know.’
‘You can feel him, can’t you?’ Eloise again. ‘That’s why you had that funny look on your face before when you said he punched Patrick. He touched you doing it.’
‘Yes.’
Eloise frowned and bit her lip. ‘It didn’t hurt you though. And it didn’t hurt Patrick.’
‘No.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ Patrick said, still touching the back of his head.
‘You’re not hurt,’ Eloise said. ‘Not like if a Shade had touched you.’
Shelley suddenly understood that look on Eloise’s face—the deep concern in her eyes. ‘Oh, Christ. No, Eloise. He’s not a Shade. We’ve already established that. He’s touched me quite a few times, and aside from feeling kind of … ghostly, for want of a better description, it hasn’t hurt me.’
‘You don’t feel a drain on your power or your energy?’
Quite the opposite, actually, but she wasn’t going to say that. ‘No.’
‘And it’s not uncomfortable in any way?’
Well, it was, but once again, she wasn’t going to admit that either. ‘Apart from it feeling cold, no. Why? Have you heard of anything like this happening before?’
Eloise twisted around further to face Shelley, her fingers flexing against the leather. ‘No. Not like this. In every way, it sounds like his soul was cut from his body by the Warlock Lightning. That would usually create a Shade. But if he’s not draining or hurting you, then he’s not a Shade. I have no idea what he is. This is what you meant when you said you were looking for information about different types of spirits, right?’
‘Yes. But I’ve found nothing useful.’
‘But this couldn’t be the first time something like this has happened. I mean, Warlock Lightning has been around for centuries. Surely someone’s seen something like this before?’ She sounded so hopeful, and after what they’d told her of their suspicions about what had happened to her family, Shelley understood.
‘It might have happened before, but unless someone like me was around to see them, nobody would know. He can’t even talk to the other spirits—there’s some kind of noise like wind or static that gets worse when they try to talk to each other.’
‘Like they’re on a different wave length?’
Shelley stared at Patrick. ‘Yes. That’s exactly it. They’re on different planes of existence.’
‘Then why can he and the spirits talk to you and you to them?’
‘I must have the ability to switch planes or channels or something. Maybe that’s why he can touch me too. It’s like he’s out of phase and yet part of me shares the same phase molecules.’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘Sorry, too much science fiction.’
‘No. I think you could be on to something,’ Patrick said.
‘It’s a wonder nobody’s ever thought of this before.’
‘They might have,’ Patrick said. ‘But, like all written information that has to be preserved, things get lost, misinterpreted when translated so the meaning changes. War and social upheaval, even natural disaster, can destroy records. As a lore keeper, it’s frustrating.’
‘Adam and I were just talking about that before you came in.’ She looked down at her hands, unclenched them and lay them flat on her knees. ‘I’m going to talk to the spirits up at the McClunes’. There’s quite a few ancient witches who’ve been hanging around Bron and Cordy up there.’
‘And Adeline,’ Adam added.
‘Yes. Adeline. I’ll have to talk to her. She might know something about Adam’s mysterious lady that she’s not been able to communicate with him. At least we’re hoping. She always seems to have her fingers in many pies.’
‘Mysterious lady?’ Patrick asked. ‘This sounds intriguing.’
She explained about the woman who had come to Adam just after he’d first become what he was now and then his subsequent talk with the Goddess.
‘You saw the place I created?’ Eloise turned to stare at where Adam was sitting.
‘He did,’ Shelley said.
‘I thought it was a place in my mind, not somewhere physical.’
‘Nope. You created it. The Goddess said it’s something that a Nexus can do—create actual places in the ether or something like that.’
Shelley repeated what he’d said.
‘Wow. I had no idea. What was it like?’
‘Stormy.’
Shelley kept translating.
‘Huh.’ Eloise sucked in her lip. ‘The storm was coming when I was there. But I didn’t create that. How is it still there?’
‘The Goddess said something about your power being something that could show the possibilities of the future. The storm is in our future—I gather it’s the fight that’s coming with Morrigan and Cain and the Darkness—but while it’s there in the place you created, it’s not taken over yet. It’s kind of just hovering.’
‘But what if …’ Eloise began to ask, but Shelley threw up her hands.
‘Look, can we not do this now? I know it seems really interesting, and is possibly important info we all need to know down the track, it’s kind of annoying having to repeat everything Adam says so you can hear it.’
‘You could let him take over your body,’ Patrick suggested. ‘That would make the conversation faster.’
‘No!’ Shelley and Adam said together.
She turned to stare at Adam. ‘Why did you say no? Surely, you’d want to speak to others more easily? Isn’t that what all spirits want?’
He grimaced. ‘I’m not precisely a spirit, am I?’ When she stared at him, he reached out and touched her hand. ‘I don’t think I could just slide into you. As you said, we’re in phase with each other in some way. With the others, I could probably do it, but with you, I’m almost corporeal.’
‘If you could, would you?’
‘No. I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to do. Besides, it hurts you when a spirit takes over your body and I’d never do anything to hurt you.’
‘You know that?’
‘Of course. How could I miss it? What I don’t know is why you haven’t told any of the others what it does to you.’
Shelley looked down at her hands, unable to meet his eyes. She hated talking about her feelings to anyone. Even with Skye and Bron she found it difficult—although they had a way of getting them out of her anyway. But it just felt so … weakening to admit to
her deepest fears, her deepest wants, those things that hurt her the most.
But Adam was persistent. He nudged her shoulder with his. The touch tingled outwards in ever-expanding ripples. But still, she didn’t answer, just folded her arms and pinned her lips together more tightly. The others might not hear him, but they could bloody well hear what she was saying and she wasn’t going to answer his question in front of them. Probably wouldn’t even if they weren’t there.
He leaned closer. His cool breath brushed across her ear, making her shiver. Her fingers dug into her sides as she fought the unwanted sensations that shot through her body like electric prickles. She leaned a little further away, but couldn’t go too far. Patrick was sitting on her other side, his big shoulders taking up more than his fair share of the back seat.
Adam leaned closer. ‘It’s because it would hurt them to know, isn’t it?’ Her head whipped up, gaze clashing with his. He smiled knowingly. ‘Thought so. You’re such a martyr sometimes.’
She snorted. ‘You’re one to talk.’
He gave her a ‘who me?’ look, which made her laugh despite the fact that she was pissed off that he could figure her out so easily. His face lit at the sound and he sat back in his seat as if to say, ‘my job here is done’.
She became aware that the others were all staring at her. She quickly scanned back through her memory, hoping they hadn’t heard something she desperately didn’t want them to hear. Could they have figured out what she and Adam had been talking about?
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