She’d accepted the mating bond. The moment had been a glory inside him. Her acceptance was strong and unique and utterly her. It shone with her love, with her trust and commitment to him, the pack, herself. He’d known she could do it, and she’d proved him right. He would howl his joy to the moon if only he wasn’t in the process of dying.
The burning pain intensified. ‘Holy mother fucker,’ he said, teeth clenched around the words. Then there was a jerk and a popping sound and the intensity of the pain was gone, only its echo remaining.
The screaming got louder and he realised it wasn’t coming from him. Holy shit it was loud. So loud, it hurt. He flinched. And there was howling. Who was howling?
And was that blood he smelled? Fresh blood. Warmth trickled from his nose, his ears.
What the?
He opened his eyes.
He was lying on the bed in the hospital room in the caves on McClune land. He looked down at himself. His hand twitched.
His hand!
He bolted upright, swayed as the room careened wildly around him, held onto the metal rails of the hospital bed. It took a moment, but the room finally righted itself.
He was back in his body. He looked down at his bare chest.
The wound was disappearing as he watched, the skin slightly pink where it had been, but normal. No hint of the taint left by the Darkness. Just a slight golden glow emanating from his skin.
Bron. Her bolt had hit him at the same time as the Warlock Lightning, somehow managing to send him back to his body, to heal him and knit body and spirit, before he was lost. He’d have to kiss her later. She was fucking brilliant.
His wolf howled in his mind, catching his attention. Welcoming him back. And warning him.
Warning him about what?
The screaming. He touched the sticky warmth coming from his nose, lifted his hands. Blood. He was bleeding despite the healing. The only thing that could cause him to bleed from his nose and ears like this was …
Shelley! The banshee was screaming. But it wasn’t simply the warning scream of oncoming death he’d heard before. This was more. Different. It was almost like …
No. A horrible aching tear sheered along the bond, scraping it to its core. ‘Kitten, what have you done?’
He jumped out of the bed and almost fell to the floor. His limbs trembled with lack of use, the room spinning again. He tried to stand upright, to take a step, but fell to the floor. God, no. No. He couldn’t do it. He was going to let her down.
I can do it, his wolf said, a fierce growl in his mind. Yes. Yes. All he needed to do was to go and open the door.
He pulled himself across the floor, hauled himself up and yanked open the door, wolf howling in his mind, encouraging, pushing him along. He fell through the door as it opened, and the light of change took him mid-fall. He landed on all fours and then he was running, paws pounding along the concrete floor. He reared at the lift, hit the button, paced as he waited for the lift to arrive and the doors to open, then repeated the action to get to the surface.
He whimpered as the sensation of a knife paring away at the mating bond became sharper, colder. Shelley must think him dead. The banshee was screaming for him. There was so much grief and anger and terrible, horrifying loneliness echoing down the bond to him from her. Such a horrible loneliness, it would drive a person insane. If he didn’t get to her soon, didn’t make her see she was stronger than this, that she didn’t need to let it take her, not just because he was alive, but because she was fucking amazing... The horror of the vision Morghanna had shown him rose in his mind. Fucking hell. He couldn’t let that come to pass.
He had to get to her. Now.
The fucking bloody lift was taking too goddamned long!
***
The scream hit Cain like a tidal wave, smacking him to his knees, forcing him flat to the ground. The Were he was fighting were knocked down too, some smacked into unconsciousness by the force of the sound, others clutching at their ears. She saw Jason and River and Iain go to their knees. A frisson of worry splayed along her chest. Had she hurt them? Should she feel bad about that? They were her friends, weren’t they? The ones she was protecting?
But Adam! She must avenge Adam. So cruelly taken from her. Her mind swirled with the pain of it. And those other deaths. She had to stop them. The banshee screeched again. Blood scented the air. Worried cries reached out to her. Familiar voices. Skye. Bron. Eloise. Cordy. Calling to their mates and pack. Calling to her. She couldn’t listen to them. Couldn’t. She was death. It was her gift. She had to make Cain pay with his life. Adam would want her to do it, wouldn’t he?
Would he?
The voice, calm in the nightmare roiling through her mind, cut through the horrible grief and confusion.
Adam wouldn’t want her to do this. He wouldn’t want to be avenged like this. He’d tell her she was stronger than this. That she shouldn’t lose control. Didn’t have to give in to the insanity of her gift. She’d begun to think that was true. Had allowed the mating bond to snap into place because of that belief. Was it true?
Was it?
True?
The scream faltered in her throat. Was she truly death? Was that her gift? Or was her gift understanding? Was it the strength to hold the bridge between life and death and allow communication? To allow closure. As she’d done for Cordy and Marcus. For Harrison with Skye. Adeline with Bron. Even the banshee, though powerful, wasn’t destructive at heart. She was a warning. A gift of time to try to alter an unnecessary future—like now.
She frowned. But if that were true, then why hadn’t she sensed Adam’s death? The scream that had been building inside her hadn’t been for him. She knew it in the deepest part of herself. So why had he died?
Maybe it was because he was too close. Maybe she could only see oncoming death for others. If only she could have known. If only she could have been warned. She could have … could have … what?
Saved him? How? She would have had to break the spell to do that. Adam would never have wanted that. He would want her to get on with the spell, finish what they’d begun. He would have been happy to sacrifice himself for her, for the others. He was that good. That generous.
He was her love. He would hate this murderous creature she was about to become. She might see death, but she didn’t have to create it. Not even for him.
The banshee cried her despair of that truth, her wings slapping in the night, buffeting those below as she held herself aloft. The ley lines snapped and sparked, their power arcing up to touch her wings.
Oh Goddess. The power of the world tied into the power of the universe. The part inside her that was linked to the Goddess tied to her by blood, by DNA, awakened fully. It was amazing. The power that filled her! She could do anything. Anything. She could ensure life or she could bring death. It was her choice. She had to choose.
Cain moaned, pushed to his knees. She shrieked at him again, wanting him dead. No. Not dead. Just stopped.
She could stop him with this power streaming through her. Hold him up long enough for the others and her astral soul to finish the spell and banish the Darkness forever. He was rising to his feet, standing, lifting his hand to use his power.
She screeched at him, pushing her power towards him with a flap of her wings. He arched, arms wide, the power sparking over his body, through him, making him shudder and shake and then fall back to the ground.
Breathing. He was still breathing. It was enough. She’d stopped him without killing him. It was right. It was good. The screams of millions of deaths inside her dissolved as if they’d never been. She looked down at those below her—her friends, her pack. It was her choice to protect them. And to protect them, she must stop the Darkness from entering the baby and replacing its soul. That was her role in this now. The thing she could do that no other could.
Leaving Cain where he lay supine in the grass, she dived down to hover over Morrigan as she lay panting, her swollen stomach rippling with the force of her contractions.
�
�Can’t you stop it?’ Cordy asked.
‘No.’ Morrigan panted between the words. ‘Cain hit me with a spell before I could stop it. It’s too late. The baby is coming. It’s coming now.’
And so was the Darkness. The banshee could feel it. Feel the death it would bring if it got to its destination and did the unthinkable. She spun, wings furled protectively over the labouring Morrigan, and turned to face the enemy as it came at her through the sky. Torn bits and pieces flying through the moonlit night, coalescing together into a massive, whirling whole. Cain screamed, his chest rising up, his back arching so high, it looked like he would break in half. The Darkness tore itself from him and he slumped back to the ground, face deathly pale, blood pouring from his eyes and ears and nose.
He would be dead in moments. Even though she knew now she couldn’t have raised a hand to cause his death, she also wasn’t sorry for it.
The banshee hissed, wings snapping again, reaching out to touch the ley lines, to fill her with more power. Behind her, another power sizzled, greater, rising, rising. Eloise. Skye. Bron. The astral-Shelley. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw their brilliance—all the colours of the rainbow—their power growing out from them like a faceted gem, pushing further and further out into the sky. They were almost there, but not quite. They needed longer to reach the full strength of the spell. And in the meantime, the Darkness was strengthening, more pieces joining what stood before her, taking the rough shape of a giant man.
It grinned at her, as if it found her amusing. ‘You cannot stop me. You are an infant. Your wings are still wet. Let me take care of that for you.’
The Darkness shot something at her. Before she could think what to do, her wings snapped forward, buffeting the energy back towards the Darkness. With a wave of its hand, it deflected its rebounding power, a snarl now clear on its almost-face. ‘Beginner’s luck.’ It shot more darts of power at her. She raised the shields she’d become so adept at, using them as she’d used them against Cain all those months ago, and deflected every one of his darts. Then she lifted hands and wings and shot her own power at it. Amethyst power sizzled around the Darkness, lighting up its edges, pushing it back towards the trees. She blasted it again, pushing it back further. It seemed to become a little smaller. She shot out another bolt.
The Darkness raised its hand and deflected her bolt. It shot into the trees and flared in the branches, setting the tree on fire.
It straightened. ‘Impressive. You’re not as weak as I thought.’
‘I was never weak.’ She wasn’t. So foolish to have thought it for so long simply because her family had told her so. She would never fall prey to those thoughts again.
Morrigan’s cries and panting were louder. Her contractions coming thick and fast. The full power of Samhain would be on them soon and the baby with it. The Darkness knew. It could probably feel it better than she could.
‘It’s time,’ it said, moving as if to breach the outer square of power—weakened now because she’d driven the others to their knees with her screams. It gestured at the bodies lying around the clearing and beyond because of her, because of Cain. At the fires in the trees—one was her fire, the others must have been Cain’s. ‘This is exactly how I ordained it. Death and destruction ushering in my new reign over this little world. And all thanks to you and your stupid, pathetic Were.’
‘They weren’t so pathetic when you used them all those centuries ago. In fact, you spent all this time trying to get back to them.’
‘They were easy to manipulate and more powerful than the humans, but still simply there to use until something better came along. I could never fully gain entry into this world through them. Not like I can through that magically created baby. Its very cells are fuelled with magic. Can’t you feel it? Powerful. So powerful. Power that will allow me to stay without destroying it. It was made for me. Unlike your pathetic Were.’
‘The Were were too strong for you to fully take over, so you turn to an innocent baby to help you live out your dreams of power. You’re pathetic.’
The things in its almost-face that were eyes blackened with hatred and fury. It let out a shout of rage and then came at her in a rush, exploding through the weakened outer lines of their working with no effort at all. Jason and River and Iain cried out as they were released from the working, but somehow she could still feel their strength, backing her, buoying her. She lifted her wings, raised more shields.
The Darkness hit the edge of her shield and roared in fury. She laughed in his face, a strange sound in her banshee throat.
‘You can’t stop me from getting what I want. From getting what is mine.’
‘The baby will never be yours. We will never be yours!’ She held onto her shields as it battered at them, the things that were its hands clawing at her shields, tearing at them, sucking the power of them with its dark energy. It hurt, but she held on. She had to hold on. Her friends were almost done. She could feel it. Feel them. She cried out as the two outer shields were destroyed, leaving only the two at the centre. She poured everything she was into them.
‘You could have been my greatest soldier,’ the Darkness roared as it ripped at her next shield, the feel of it like claws raking at already shredded skin.
‘I’d rather die.’
‘So be it.’ It shattered her second last shield. Only one left.
Trembling, she reached for everything within her, the banshee, the medium, the friend, the pack member, the lover, the mate, and pushed the strength of that into her one remaining shield. ‘I won’t let you in,’ she cried, voice trembling with her effort. It had to be enough. It would be enough. Her shield wavered. The Darkness cried out in triumph as it lifted its hands to pound one last time at her weakened shield. Oh Goddess, please let it hold for one moment longer.
‘Hold on, Kitten. You are strong. I know you can do it.’
‘Adam!’ His voice in her mind, the howl of his wolf loud in her ears. He was alive. She could feel the vibrancy of him close by, coming to her. He was returned to his body, pounding over the earth towards their clearing in wolf form. He was coming to her. Coming for her. Her wings fluttered, shivering their anticipation, their dread. No. She didn’t want him to see her like this. Not this thing that could choose to kill so easily.
‘But you didn’t. I’ve seen a future where that’s all you were because you had no choice. You had a choice today and you chose to save, to protect, not to kill. You are magnificent. You are strong. Banshee, medium, witch, lover, friend. You are all that and more. Use it to save yourself. To save us all.’
His words rang through her, his strength adding to her own through their bond. His strength, his life, his love, his never-ending trust that she was everything and more, it was all she needed. Standing tall, wings raised proudly to the sky, she filled her shield with the hopeful joy in her heart.
‘Take my strength. Use it.’
She did. Without hesitation. All her old fears about him had melted away. They had always been about her, not him. She had mistrusted herself not to use everything he was, to take and take and take until he was nothing, because she had been so afraid she would do anything to stave off the insanity she thought was inevitably hers.
She’d been so wrong. She knew that now. So she took what he offered and poured all of that certainty—his, hers—all of her new knowledge of herself, into her shield, a final attempt to deny the evil that would destroy the kind of love she knew she deserved.
The Darkness came at her, rushing through the air all at once, the force and scope of it blotting out the light of the moon.
‘Together,’ Adam shouted in her mind.
Yes, together.
The Darkness hit her shield … and was slammed back, tumbling over and over, crashing through trees, some falling with cracking thumps at the force of it. Screaming its rage at being denied once more, it returned in a billowing flurry. It pounded on her shield, over and over, wrapped itself around the edges, twisting, tightening against it, trying
to shatter it all at once.
She held strong. She was strong. Adam offered her more of his strength and she took it, because he was strong too and could take it if she could. ‘I won’t let you in. Not to this circle. Not to my world. Not ever.’
‘You can’t stop me forever with this pathetic shield. It will break and I will kill you.’
She tossed her head. ‘It won’t matter. Others will be there to stop you after I fall.’
‘The Were? They’re not strong enough. Your spirits? They run from me when I pass. Your witch friends? They don’t have the power.’
‘By ourselves, we don’t. But together, we do.’
She looked back to see that the witches of the triumvirate and the Nexus had all turned to face her. The gem of their power was brilliant about them, almost blinding.
‘Go to oblivion,’ Eloise said, and then lifting her hands, she drew on the power of the triumvirate, the power of the Were, the power of the dead and the living, the power of the earth and the sun and the moon, and shot at him a blast of light. Pure and bright, full of the colours of all their powers and all their bonds, it hit the Darkness, lit it up, sizzled around it, through it.
At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then the Darkness began to shake. Cracks began to form. A high, piercing keen shredded the night. The earth shook beneath them. It seemed like it was going to break apart at any moment, but somehow it held on.
It wasn’t enough. They weren’t going to be enough.
‘You won’t have my baby, you fuck!’ Morrigan had sat up, Cordy at her side, and despite the fact that both of them had almost depleted their power earlier, they somehow managed to pull on something deep inside, something primal, and added their power to the others. The Darkness began to shatter, bits of it flying into the sky. But as fast as it shattered, it pulled itself back together, its determination to hold on as great as their determination to rid the world of its evil. It was a stalemate.
‘Help us,’ Shelley cried up to the moon, the banshee and the medium side of her, Adam’s pleading howl adding to theirs.
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