Spectrum of Magic Complete Series - Spell Breaker - Fate Shifter - Cursed Stone - Magic Unborn - Libra

by D. N. Leo

  “And how did you know?”

  “I’m not a psychic. Someone left a voice mail in my phone. They said they’d taken your mother because you took your girlfriend back home with you.”

  “I didn’t take her. She followed me here because she worried. Someone placed a curse on you and Mother. That’s why I had to come back . . .”

  “A curse! Jesus Christ, Lorcan, do you hear yourself?”

  “Yes, I hear myself clearly. I’m not superstitious, but there are way too many things I can’t explain, except by magic. How did you know that I can heal myself, Father?”

  “That has nothing to do with magic, you silly lad.”

  Lorcan stared at his father. Ferris Brody was in his late sixties but possessed the brain of a man in his forties—a mind as sharp as laser. And there wasn’t an ounce of sentiment in him.

  “You’re not worried about Mother?”

  “Being out there on your own for that long, you should’ve gotten wiser, Lorcan. They won’t harm your mother until they tell us what they want.”

  “Isn’t it blatantly obvious? They want me to take Orla out of the country again. But there are others who wanted me here. That’s why they cursed you and Mother. Are you sure if I take Orla out of here, they’ll leave you alone?”

  “Do not mention anything about magic in this house ever again, Lorcan. I won’t tolerate it. Whoever took your mother won’t kill as long as you do what they want.”

  “I don’t know what they want, but they already have killed, and there is no guarantee they won’t come back.” Lorcan raised his voice as his father arched an eyebrow.

  “They killed Mary, Father!” Keeva added and pointed toward the kitchen. Ferris’s eyes darkened, and he scurried toward the kitchen.

  In the kitchen, they found nothing—no dead body and no trace of blood. The teapot had been removed from the hot stove, and the cake had been taken out of the baking tray and put onto a crystal plate. Keeva’s body shook. “I saw it . . . we both saw it. Tell him, Lorcan!”

  Chapter 6

  He didn’t know what to believe anymore. He used to believe in his own eyes, but what exactly did he see at the riverbank? Who did he kiss? Orla had walked away from him—had that been real or an illusion? And what about his mother? She was still nowhere to be found. Lorcan turned toward his father whose face was hardened as steel. “There was a dead body here, Father, but I don’t have any proof.”

  “I can’t say I believe it because there is nothing for me to believe or disbelieve. But they did take your mother, and that’s a fact. And if you take your girlfriend out of the country, they might return her.”

  “Did they tell you that?”

  “No.”

  “You’re speculating on Mother’s life?”

  “What do you want me to think, Lorcan? We told you not to go out with that girl. You took off to find her, and you never came back. Then your mother rambled on all night last night about how she knew you were returning. Then you got here looking like a mess, and the next thing I knew, your mother was gone. I should never have given you to that woman . . .” Ferris ranted and trailed off at the last part as if he hadn’t meant to let it slip out.

  “Given me to her?” he stared at his father.

  “I . . .”

  Before Ferris could answer, Lorcan gestured for silence. “Please don’t answer. I’m happy enough with what I know now.” His mind was racing ahead with too many possibilities, none of which he cared for. This was the reality he hadn’t wanted to know. “As I said before, someone threatened me with a curse on you and Mother. That’s the only reason I came back. If you believe that me taking Orla out of here would solve your problems, then I’ll do just that . . . As you wish, Father.” His gaze paused on Ferris’s face for a brief moment as if gathering some last images into his mind, and then he strode quickly toward the door.

  “Lorcan!” Keeva called out and ran to him. She held him tightly just as she had on the day he left so many years ago. She had been a small kid back then, but her squeeze had been just as tight. Lorcan embraced her and kissed her forehead. “You always know how to find me. I’ll leave a trail for you.”

  She nodded and wiped her tears away. Lorcan glanced at his father one last time and exited the house.

  When Lorcan left the house, he ran back down to the river. It dawned on him now that he had no idea where Orla lived. She had never taken him to her home. They’d always met down by the river, and if what happened at the riverbank yesterday wasn’t a hallucination, if it was actually Orla he had seen, then how the hell he was going to find her and take her out of here?

  A rustling noise near a clump of bushes caught his attention. He turned around, shivers running down his spine. The noise was coming from behind a blackberry bush, and it made Lorcan freeze. Stepping out in front of him was a large, yellow wolf with red eyes. He didn’t know if it was a normal wolf or something magical, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

  He backed away a pace or two, as slowly as he could. The wolf advanced and then sat down.

  “All right. So you’re friendly. But I’m in a very bad mood right now and staring at me isn’t helping at all.”

  The wolf stared at Lorcan for another moment and then spat out something on the ground. It backed up a bit and sat again. Lorcan approached to see what the small object was. He crouched and picked it up. It was unmistakably his mother’s wedding ring. He could feel his blood boiling and his body vibrating with rage. The yellow wolf in front of him was obviously some kind of shapeshifter.

  “What are you trying to tell me? If you want me to take Orla away, I’m going to do just that.”

  The wolf growled and bared its teeth.

  “You don’t want me to do that. What do you want then?”

  The wolf stood and turned around.

  “You want to take me to my mother?”

  It kept walking.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Lorcan mumbled and followed the wolf. “I guess I’m going to meet the whole clan of shapeshifters now. I’m assuming you didn’t do any harm to my mother. Also, if you decide to shift back into your human form so that you can speak, I have some things to ask you about the woman at the riverbank.”

  The wolf glanced at Lorcan and then put its head down to the ground again and continued walking.

  “I think that woman is a witch—and a bad one.” He heard a humming noise of agreement from the wolf. Lorcan chuckled. “I have to admit she was incredibly beautiful. But I would never have kissed her if she hadn’t pretended to be Orla . . .”

  The wolf growled.

  “Yeah, I know. Thanks for the sympathy. I hope Orla understands. It felt as if that woman was raping me . . .”

  A low bark came from the animal.

  “I’m serious. As soon as I saw she wasn’t Orla . . . It doesn’t matter how beautiful she was, she was forcing herself . . .”

  The wolf came at him like a sudden storm. Lorcan didn’t have time to think except to remember he’d lost his gun. He knew fighting the wolf bare-handed wasn’t a good idea, so he shifted into his blue fox form. The wolf was in the air and flying toward him, maw gaping. Even though he was only a fox, Lorcan wasn’t much smaller than the tawny wolf, and his teeth were just as sharp.

  He yelped when the wolf drew first blood, but he reared up on his hind paws and clawed at the wolf’s face until it turned its head, then he bit down hard on whatever flesh he could reach. The fight continued for several long minutes, Lorcan trading a wound for every injury he received. Then the wolf made a mistake. He reached to snap at Lorcan’s front leg, but when he stepped forward, the large rock he was putting his weight on shifted, causing him to lose his balance and expose his throat to Lorcan. Lorcan didn’t hesitate. He moved his head, lightning fast, and caught the wolf by the throat. It went completely limp in his mouth, and he bit down a little harder before he shook the wolf and released his bite.

  Lorcan stood still so that the wolf knew he was safe to walk aw
ay. He wasn’t that generous. But his wounds hurt like hell and he didn’t want to fight anymore. Lorcan watched as the wolf limped away, and then he returned to a pile of shredded material that used to be his clothes and lay down in them, nursing his own bite wounds and scratches. He was still amped up from adrenaline, and it felt like he could hear colors and taste sounds. He started to nose around in his shirt to assess the damage it had received. No, these clothes would never be worn again. He sighed.

  He would just have to go home as a fox rather than walking in naked. Lorcan picked up the ring in his mouth and trotted home.

  The house was as quiet as when he had left it. He walked right into the living room in his fox form. His father and his sister were glaring at each other as if they had just finished an argument. They turned and looked at him. Keeva stood there, mouth hanging wide open in shock, apparently unsure whether she should attack this animal or run. His father, on the other hand, sat down in a chair and just looked at him. If Lorcan wasn’t mistaken, his father had recognized him right away. There was relief in his father’s eyes when he saw Lorcan.

  His father wanted him to come back.

  Lorcan sat and dropped the ring on the floor.

  Chapter 7

  The haunting sound of an owl ripped through the air and woke Orla. She sat up abruptly and punched at something in front or her. She panted and glanced frantically around. The blurry vision become clear in a short moment. She was sitting in a bed, and the ‘thing’ she had hit was her distant cousin Alana.

  “Oi, you crazy snit!”

  Only Alana would call Orla a snit. It made no sense, but it was the nickname she had given Orla when she was just a grumpy kid in black magic class, and she refused to call Orla by any other name.

  Orla looked around the room. She didn’t recognize the place. “Where am I?”

  “Uncle Daly’s house.”

  Her head throbbed in incredible pain. Refraining from a sneer, she asked, “Bradan’s father?”

  Alana shrugged. “Yes, as long as I’ve know them, they’ve been father and son. What’s the problem?”

  Does Alana seriously not see the problem, or is she just playing dumb? Orla wagered on the latter. If Bradan was going into power in two weeks, having Orla back in the village was the last thing Uncle Daly wanted. Apart from Uncle Daly being a normally calm and collected man, Orla couldn’t remember much about him, and she had no way of knowing who was friend and who was foe at the moment. “Where’s Maeve?”

  “She was the one who messed up your head?”

  “What?” Orla straightened up, remembering the black magic that had attacked her in the cemetery. How did Alana know that? “What about my head?”

  Alana thrust a small mirror toward Orla. “See for yourself. I bet it hurt!”

  Orla frowned as she looked at her forehead and saw a nasty wound glaring back at her. It was good that Alana referred to the physical wound, not the black magic. “Did you find me?” Orla asked.

  “No. Uncle Daly did. He brought you here and called me. He said he found you at Aunt Siobhan’s grave. Only Maeve would lurk around there. That’s what I said. But Uncle Daly didn’t believe me. He said until he saw it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t believe Maeve could do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Put that dent in your forehead!” Alana waved her arms in the air.

  Orla nodded. She saw no reason to explain to Alana that Maeve had just wanted to help her. Between Maeve and Alana, she trusted Maeve more. She rubbed her head. “Do you have a bandage that I can patch this up with?”

  Alana clucked her tongue. “You’ll need more than that, and I have it ready. Nothing fancy.” Alana put both a medical box and a makeup box on the bed. “Bathroom is over there. You’ll find clean clothes in there, too. They’re mine, but I think we’re the same size.”

  “I don’t need makeup. Just need to clean up and sleep for the rest of the night if that’s okay.”

  Alana shook her head. “You have to at least go downstairs and say hi to everyone.”

  “Everyone?” Orla could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

  Alana grinned.

  Orla scurried into the bathroom. Staring at her bruised forehead in the mirror, she knew Maeve was right—a storm was brewing her way. She had run off at the age of twelve, leaving her clan in limbo without a rightful leader. But they had managed to organize and survive, she told herself now as she had so many times before. She thought people in the clan were better off without a leader. They could live their normal human lives. Why did they have to stay with the clan? The myth was that being with the clan and a new leader appointed at the magical full moon would bring immortality. But she hadn’t seen evidence of it yet.

  Orla shook her head. Why people would want to live forever in misery was beyond her understanding. But she supposed that living an emotionless life might be a misery to her but a pleasure to others. She couldn’t speak for them. She could see the point now after experiencing how much it had hurt to see Lorcan with the other woman. Just the thought of it now made her head start to throb again.

  She cleaned up and walked downstairs with Alana. The hallway was too short for her liking. She walked as slowly as she could, but she knew she would get to the living room eventually. A good chunk of her family was here, and they were all staring at her. She could feel the heat of their gazes, and she felt like she had maybe grown an extra head or a tail. But no, she was just an older version of the Orla who had run away at the age of twelve. What are they staring at? She wondered.

  The laughter and conversation in the room ceased as soon as Orla walked in. The air was as quiet as the calmness experienced before a storm. She could feel it brewing, ready to break on her like crashing waves on rocks. Orla pasted a smiled on her face. “Hi . . .” she said and internally cursed her awkwardness

  Uncle Daly approached and gestured toward a chair. “I hope you’re feeling better. We won’t keep you long. You see, the whole village wants to see you.”

  An elderly man pushed his way to the front of the crowd and glared at her. “You made a promise when you were younger, and again when you asked for help in London. You will take your place as the head of this family at the next full moon. No more excuses. You will be under watch until this happens because we will not risk you running away again.”

  “Tony!” Uncle Daly warned in a low voice.

  “She was raised for this. We invested so much in her. And she is our best bet,” Tony said.

  “I am the best bet for what?” Orla asked.

  “You don’t have a say here,” Daly spoke calmly to Tony and ignored Orla’s question.

  “You just want the post for your son. I knew it,” Tony snarled.

  “Remember your place, Tony. Regardless, it’s Bradan or Orla to lead the clan, you are not in a position to say anything.”

  “And you are?” Tony glared at him again, but when Daly threw back an even harsher look, Tony turned on his heel and left the room.

  No one else said a word. Orla felt the silence pressing down on her like a weight. She could trust Maeve, but Maeve wasn’t allowed to attend the clan meeting. She practised white magic, so within the black magic sorcery clan, Maeve was a ‘black sheep’. How ironic, Orla thought. Orla realized that without Lorcan, nothing in her life seemed to work in a normal order.

  She turned her face away from the family members who still stared at her and tried to give herself a false illusion of some sort of privacy. She wanted the tears to fall without anyone watching, but something told her that that wasn’t going to happen. She wanted to run right out the door, but she was sure that would be a bad idea, so she let the thought pass. Orla didn’t expect these black magic workers who were supposed to live an emotionless life were going to be gentle with her. But she didn’t care for them to gut her alive for a sacrifice, either.

  She worked her brain hard to figure out a way out of the situation, but nothing came to mind. “I’m tired. Could I rest for to
night, and then we can resume the conversation tomorrow?”

  The room stared at Orla in silence. Well, it’s not an outrageous request! Orla thought.

  “I see no harm in that,” said a woman in her late fifties, sitting in the back of the room. If Orla’s memory served, that was Aunt Anna, a very distant relative she had hardly talked to when she was a kid. She remembered Anna because she had broken into her conservatory and stolen a few rare plants for an experiment, trying to grow them with milk in her bedroom . Well, the plants had died, and Anna had never figured out where her plants had gone. Orla cleared her throat and tried not to think because if she was not mistaken, the old man sitting near the door was Pete, the shaman of the clan who also could read minds.

  Daly looked at Orla. “Okay. We’ll talk again tomorrow. Just so you know, I don’t have anything against you taking the leadership. The position has always been yours, and it’s written in stone. It has been an ordeal to train Bradan and get him up to speed to replace you. But if he can’t use the skills in the position, I’m sure he can find use for them elsewhere.”

  “You don’t have to speak for me, Father.” Bradan walked into the room.

  Orla’s jaw dropped. The freckled, red-haired boy had turned into quite a formidable figure.

  Chapter 8

  “Orla,” Bradan nodded in greeting. “I’m glad to see you again.”

  Orla forced a smile and frantically searched her memory for Bradan’s talent. Was he a mind reader? Was he good at chemical compound? Spells? Nothing came to mind. Orla gave up and forced herself to stop thinking.

  “If no one objects, I’ll retire to the bedroom,” Orla said.

  Daly nodded.

  “Someone should keep an eye on her,” said Anna, her voice was as cold as steel.

  “Are you imprisoning me?” Orla raised her voice.

  “No, darling, we don’t do such things. But it’s two weeks to the full moon. I don’t want to see the post swinging from one hand to another,” Anna said.