It’s him, Bri.
“Ce-Ce!” Bri cried out instinctively at the sound of her grandmother’s voice. She finally tore one of her hands loose, peeling off a layer of skin and flesh. She freed the other, then her feet, but she had nowhere to go. The heat built around her, waves of fire lapping at her ever-shrinking shore.
The halo of shadows around the figure grew and spread open like great black wings, blotting out the stars. They beat against her, leaving a sting on her cheeks and the taste of burning blood in her mouth. Her breath was reduced to gasping sobs. “Ce-Ce, help me!”
You have to See.
Bri clutched the wooden pole at her back as the fiery wind whipped her. Her grip drove splinters under her nails. She sank to her knees, closing her eyes as sweat dripped into them in runnels. She couldn’t feel her heart beating anymore. It would combust any minute from pumping the lava that was her blood.
Briana, See.
“I can’t! I can’t see him… I don’t know how!”
Daughter of my daughter, blood of my blood. I bid you to See. You must protect the Legacy. Protect our secret. It is your destiny.
And then she was falling off the edge, into the flames.
Chapter Eighteen
He wanted to interfere somehow, but on the night of the full moon, the height of Zyne power, his host was too strong to completely control. He was forced to watch Briana’s initiation from the Void. A predator relegated to stalk behind invisible walls.
But he still felt her power like a rain of needles. Through his host’s eyes, Briana’s aura shone like a pearl bubble on the bluff, shimmering with the reflection of the watching stars. Infused with magic so ancient it tore a hole into his plane and bathed him in ambrosia. And he recognized her for what she was.
Skydancer.
The ultimate prey. Not just another Spurrier witch, but the same soul who had defied him the last time he’d been so close to obtaining the relic. Rage poured from him in waves as he paced the immaterial barriers of his prison. A prison Skydancers had trapped him in.
It didn’t matter how hard his host fought now. He would sacrifice this body for the sake of vengeance. The Skydancer would not escape him again. He would tear her life apart, and feast on the shredded remains of her soul.
But first he would have the relic, and his freedom. She was too weak to withstand him this time. She had barely come into her power. She was raw, inexperienced, and in this life, she had no Familiar.
He grinned at the thought of the pain he would reap from her before the end.
Chapter Nineteen
Bri would have thrashed through the night, if not for Kean’s arms banded around her. When the fever of her visions finally broke, he loosened his hold, and his breathing softened and slowed behind her. She lay awake, listening to their hearts beat, waiting for the storm to calm, or for something to snap loose. She drifted between levels of consciousness, bobbing up and down on tides of emotions too fathomless to be hers alone. She’d been sucked into a whirlpool of lives lived. Lives lost. Stolen. Sacrificed.
Too many lives.
As the world outside grew still and quiet in the hours before daybreak, the chaos inside slowly ebbed. She slipped into a stream of steady, grim realization: it was up to her to stop the demon in her visions. Every clue had been meant for her and her alone to find. She had to seek the answer to Ce-Ce’s riddle and See him. With that certainty echoing in her thoughts, she pushed past the panic threatening to swamp her sanity, into a realm of tranquil reason.
Ce-Ce’s message. The shadow that killed Mr. Moaggen. The demon Vivianne had faced… and some secret linking them all. A secret it fell on her to protect. One she had a feeling she’d already died protecting before. If this demon was what Ce-Ce had warned her about, that meant…all of this was her fault. He had promised to plague Vivianne’s bloodline for generations to come. The Spurrier bloodline.
In a way, she really was…cursed.
She huddled with her back pressed to Kean’s warmth and tucked her knees to her chest. How could she protect anything? She could barely endure her own powers without passing out. Controlling them was hopeless. It was getting harder and harder to tell what was real and what wasn’t. She barely recognized this reality from three days ago. A part of her brain thought she would wake up and find it had all been a dream. The rest grappled with the deep-seated fear tying her stomach into knots: even with her Inner Eye open now and her power flowing, she might not survive this. Or worse, she could survive…and lose everyone else.
You can die for them again.
Kean shifted beside her.
Dread snaked a stranglehold around her throat, squeezing until she felt like she had to drag each breath in. She refused to lose anyone else.
What she needed was a plan.
Option A: Wait for the demon to come and pray Astrid and Kean are there when he does and the three of us can somehow overpower him; or Option B: Figure out what he wants, anticipate his next move, and trap him…somehow.
She wasn’t in the habit of counting on prayers. The next logical step was to uncover the secret Ce-Ce had spoken of. Protect the Legacy. Her family’s Legacy was in the downstairs hall of Kean’s house. The power of the ancient chest called to her, a whisper caressing long forgotten memories. It drew her focus, blocking out the rustle of the trees outside and Kean’s soft breathing.
With her Inner Eye open, the world seemed slightly off-kilter, the sky somehow closer, the earth more alive. She didn’t hear the seductive song coming from the chest so much as she felt it with that unfamiliar tingle at the base of her skull that she was starting to use like an atrophied muscle.
When the pink lace of dawn finally crawled across the bedroom ceiling, Kean stirred beside her and got up. He yanked on his jeans roughly. “I have a shift today. I almost forgot.”
Bri drew the covers to her chest as she watched him hop around shirtless, looking for socks. She wished they could stay in that bed forever. It was the closest thing to heaven there was. But she had powers to master, a secret to uncover, and a demon to hunt down.
Just your average Tuesday.
The vault pulsed and pounded at her psyche harder as she crossed the hall to the kitchen. By the time she reached the pantry, her heart was racing so fast she’d broken a sweat. She gripped the counter and forced her breath out with a count of five. Then another, willing the frantic beating to slow, the static rush in her ears to quiet.
“Hey.” Kean touched her shoulder. “You okay?”
His shields wrapped around her, warm and humid, like a tropical breeze. It was suddenly easier to breathe, easier to think. Was that the difference between a Ward and an Oracle, or just in levels of control? Did Kean even feel the pull of the vault, or was it just her?
She nodded and slipped out of his grip. “I’m fine.”
He filled both of their cups, then turned her to face him. “Stay here today, okay? My wards will keep you safe. And nothing will get past the dogs.”
“I will.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
Kean kissed her forehead, gulped down his coffee, and headed for the front door. “And promise you’ll be here at six when I get home?”
Bri lifted her chin and smiled. “Promise.”
He nodded and walked out the door. She watched his truck back down the misty drive, and her resolve turned brittle. Her temples throbbed. The vault assaulted her with a vengeance. Kean’s presence had merely held it at bay. She stared out the window, already feeling the pang of his absence and hating herself for that weakness.
As hard as she might try to be strong, Kean would always be stronger. She’d always leaned on him. He took every leap before her. Forever her knight in shining armor. But the dragons he wanted to fight were her curse. Her Legacy. Her fault. She couldn’t burden him with any more of it.
Being under house-arrest — which she agreed was safest anyway — didn’t mean she planned to do nothing. The Council had given them t
hirty days to practice magic undisturbed. Her Inner Eye was open, her powers were online.
Time to stop feeling sorry for yourself and get down to business.
If she had to blast Nirvana on her iPod, pop Tylenol like Tic-Tacs, and sweat like a pig the whole time, she was going to open that damned chest.
Three hours later, she’d managed to contain the magical buzz by imagining it as a bee in a jar inside her head, and the contents of the chest were spread out across Kean’s living room. A quilt of astrological charts and lineages that made no sense to her covered the floor. Heaps of ceremonial tools were scattered across the tables and sofa. Knives, chalices, bowls, bells, crystals. And then there were the books. Stacks of journals that looked older than the written word, in various languages and by numerous hands. But none of them were old enough to contain anything about Vivianne.
Bri couldn’t help thinking that there was one person who might be able to help her on that subject. But at what cost? She’d have to go back to the Arcanum, for one. The thought of that place made her shiver. The Hohlwen most of all. Besides, she didn’t know if she could trust him.
Lucas was an immortal, who had spent centuries waiting for his love to be reborn, and finally she was. And she loved someone else. It was too much for her brain, much less her heart to handle under current circumstances.
So not going there.
She would not turn to Lucas unless she had no other choice.
Which was why, when she’d sat on the floor long enough to ache, and her eyes were crossing, she called information to get Geri’s number.
The phone was on its third ring when she heard the dogs barking in the front yard. It rang again, and she hung up to go investigate. Aunt Geri’s gold Buick was parked in the driveway. The barking shifted to an excited whimper, then there was a knock on the door.
Bri opened it with a smile. “You’re late.”
“Oh pishposh,” Aunt Geri said as she stepped carefully past a stack of books and papers. Her eyes scanned the perimeter of the room, and she tsked. “My, ye are an impatient one.”
Bri closed the door, her smile faltering. She didn’t want to play games. “Okay, Oracle, spill it. What am I looking for? She gave you the key, did she give you a message? Any instructions?”
She shook her head. “Just that if anything were to happen to her, she wanted you to have the key. T’was several months ago.”
Bri’s hand flew to her mouth. Several months? If Ce-Ce saw it all coming, why didn’t she call Briana back sooner? They could have fought him together, side by side. Maybe Ce-Ce and Tara would still be alive… “Why?”
“Oh, my dear girl.” Aunt Geri swept her up in a tight embrace. “I know it’s hard, but you have to understand that she couldn’t have told you even if she wanted to.”
“She appeared to me, though. She wants me to protect some secret, and to see the killer, whoever he is. How is that any different?”
Geri’s silver brows scrunched together. “Come. I’ll tell you what I can. But first, this is a situation that calls for whiskey.”
She found the booze in a cupboard over Kean’s fridge, gathering a thick layer of dust. By the way Geri smacked her lips after the first dram, Bri guessed she didn’t mind it well-aged. After a few sips of her own, she had to admit the warmth in her stomach did sooth her rattled nerves. She cleared a space for them on the sofa and settled across from Geri.
“Your grandmother loved you very much.”
“I know.”
“So did your mother.”
A stone lodged in Bri’s throat. She took another sip of whiskey to force it down. “I know.”
Geri patted her hand with her soft, wrinkled one. “She dreamed of you, you know. She knew before you were born what you would look like, sound like, what you would be called. She would tell fantastic tales about her dreams of you.”
Tears built in her eyes. “She saw me playing the piano on stage in front of hundreds of people.” She’d spent more than half her life trying to make that reality come true. She’d even bought the red concert gown her mother had described. Somehow she’d thought it would bring them closer, to meet in Danielle’s dreams. She finished her whiskey and poured them another. “They’re both gone now. But you’re here. Geri, please, help me.”
“I will do what I can, child. But the first thing you need to learn is that an Oracle must choose very carefully how they influence the future. Sometimes a tiny ripple in the now can cause a huge drift. The future is never set, you see. It changes with every choice we make. And changing the larger currents of Fate, even by accident, comes at a heavy price.”
Bri sighed. “I tried, and I couldn’t change a damn thing. Earl Moaggen died anyway.”
Geri bowed her head and tightened her rose-colored shawl about her. “Some things are too strongly fated to change, even if we do try.”
“How do you tell the difference?” What good were her powers if she couldn’t do anything with them?
“Och, it’s different for everyone. As you come into your own, you learn your limitations, how far ahead you can see, what tools give you the clearest visions, and most importantly, you can learn to see the other changes your actions might cause. That’s the kicker. But your line is old and powerful. I’m sure you can master it, if you give it time.”
She slumped back into the couch. “I don’t have time.”
“What is it you’re looking for, dear? Mayhap I can help ye.”
Bri sat up and stared around the room, littered with the contents of her family’s vault. “I don’t know. Something valuable.”
“This is all valuable. You have a rich Legacy. Some of these things would be snatched up by mundane museums in a heartbeat, just for the history of them.”
Not to mention pounds of gold and silver and jewels. The chest itself was inlaid with gems and veins of precious metals. “I don’t mean monetary or historical value. I mean something worth protecting. Something… dangerous, maybe?”
“Ah, you mean something powerful.” Geri said.
“Exactly.” She glanced around the room again. “This is all the same to me. I don’t know what any of it does.”
“I see, dear. Give us a minute.” Geri closed her eyes and let out a few slow deep breaths. “I sense some potent magic, for certain. Should we have a look-see?”
They walked around the room, Geri leading the way, telling stories of the uses of certain artifacts, while cooing in appreciation of the age and value of others. They were interesting stories, but none of it seemed interesting enough to be worth so much death.
She was beginning to think she was wasting precious time. That maybe she should tell Kean and Astrid what she knew, regroup, and come up with a new approach. But while she had Geri there, she might as well pump her for information. There was no Zyne equivalent of Google®.
“Aunt Geri, is it possible for a demon to…possess a witch?”
Her soft lavender eyes went wide at the question. “Why on Earth do you need to know that, child?”
Bri sighed. She’d been afraid of that question. She didn’t want to raise the alarm until she knew for certain what she was dealing with. “What if I said it’s an Oracle thing, and I’m not sure I should tell you?”
Geri gave her a skeptical look. “Well, then I would have to respect that.” She led Bri back to the couch. “It is very rare, but some breeds of demons on other planes can permeate through the weaknesses in an aura and form a cocoon around it, trapping the mortal soul inside to feed from. They’re called Soul Eaters.”
A tickle of foreboding snaked down her spine. Bri stared across the room, trying to picture the pockmarked face of the inquisitor in her regression. He had looked completely human, but Vivianne had somehow seen him as more. “Can you see the cocoon with your Second Sight?”
Geri stared at her for a thoughtful pause. “I suppose one could, but not me. Every Oracle is different. If one of your gifts was reading auras and you were tenth degree or higher, mayhap, but I don�
�t know what it would look like.”
The tenth degree meant a Zyne on their tenth life. If the mythology she’d grown up with was really to be taken verbatim — as she’d been finding out it was — every Zyne soul had thirteen lives. One in each sign of the Zodiac, and a repeat of the one they screwed up the worst. When their progression through the Wheel of the Sky came to a close, they became a star. But if Vivianne had been tenth degree, that meant Bri was even higher. Could she be? It was possible. Everyone kept saying how powerful she was.
“How do you learn what your gift is?” The only thing she’d proven good at so far was death omens.
Don’t let that be it. Universe, all the powers that be, please, hear me.
“They’ll surface in time. There is no shortcut.” She patted Bri’s cheek. “Your mother would be proud of you.”
Bri smiled at that. Maybe she wasn’t changing Fate at all. Maybe her Fate was to deliver vengeance for her family, right her wrong, and rid the world of a soul-eating demon.
Wow, Kean’s optimism must be rubbing off.
“I think I’m beginning to understand what she went through.” She had never admitted — even to herself — that she believed the rumors about her mother. But she felt her chest decompress, suddenly lighter and more expansive. Because in that moment, she forgave her mother for leaving, for branding her with that final memory that had engulfed all the happy ones that came before. Now she understood how she must have felt. If Briana lost Kean, as her mother had lost Aldric, she would probably go crazy too.
“It is a hard path. But I’ve seen your cards, Briana. You have big change and challenge on the horizon.”
Bri snorted. “I think that’s old news.”
Geri nodded in a sober way that could have a million interpretations. “Mayhap. Now, let’s have a cuppa and keep looking for that dratted thing that’s making all that rattle. It’s giving me a headache.”
Rain of Ash: Skydancer Book 1 (The Zyne Legacy) Page 17