In an instant, Laurel’s long, delicate fingers—fingers that, in any other case, would never dare to hurt any creature of the earth—wrapped around my neck, her thumbs pressed to my windpipe. For the second time that evening, I fought for my own breath, except this time, I couldn’t simply pull the trigger of a ghost-killing gun to escape. Laurel’s expression was still serene and impassive, as though unaware of her violent attempt to murder her own sister.
My vision popped and spasmed with bursts of colorful light, but I could still make out the movement of Gwenlyn rugby-tackling Laurel, effectively dislodging her hands from my throat. Wheezing, I watched as Laurel managed to land a solid right hook to Gwenlyn’s cheek. Thankfully, Gwenlyn was much taller and broader than Laurel. She pinned Laurel’s hands to her sides and then straddled her, immobilizing my sister in a matter of seconds. Where Gwenlyn had learned her scrappy fighting skills I didn’t want to know.
“Get the knife,” Gwen said in a rather docile voice for someone who was sitting on the chest of another person. I plucked the paring knife from the grass and neared my sister, still massaging my damaged throat. Between Ronan’s and Laurel’s attacks, I was bound to have some gnarly bruising there tomorrow. If we lived through tonight, of course.
Gwenlyn dug her knee into the crook of Laurel’s right arm to prevent her from fighting back, then spread the fingers of Laurel’s hand. With some trouble, I managed to dig the paring knife into the skin of Laurel’s palm then pressed the small puncture wound in my thumb to the blood welling in Laurel’s hand.
As soon as our blood mixed, Laurel’s entire body relaxed. She stopped fighting the pressure that was Gwenlyn, and the vacant look in her eyes cleared away. In my head, a sudden awareness of the world around us flooded my senses. I could smell the crisp, dewy scent of each blade of grass. I could sense the maze of tree roots that extended in every direction beneath us. I could hear the breeze singing to me, humming lullabies into the night. The blood bond had taken hold. Laurel’s affinity with nature was now my own, and if the hazy look on Gwenlyn’s face was any indication, she had also been bonded with Laurel. I nudged Gwenlyn, encouraging her to roll off of Laurel, and looked down at my sister.
“Morgan…” For a moment, Laurel only looked horrified, tracing the angry red marks at my neck with her fingers. Then she threw her arms around me, drawing me into a tight hug.
“It’s okay,” I mumbled into her hair.
Laurel pulled away, her gray eyes shining with tears. “What happened? What’s going on? Did Dominic—”
“It’s a long story,” Gwen interrupted her. “Here’s the SparkNotes version: Dominic is an ass, Morgan has been to the otherworld and back, and now we have to bond the entire coven together by blood in order to put Dominic in an early grave. Got it?”
Laurel’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve been to the otherworld?” she asked me. “How? And we’re blood-bonded now? Morgan—”
“Laurel, I’d love to fill you in on all of the particulars, but we’re kind of in a rush,” I said. My voice was raspy, and I wondered if it was permanently damaged by all of the abuse. There was only so much a healing spell could do.
Together, Gwen and I hauled Laurel to her feet. She squeezed my hand. “All right, then. Who do we link next?”
“Mom, preferably,” I said. The three of us started across the backyard toward the main house, moving quietly through the tall grass. “She has the biggest pull on the rest of the coven.”
We crept up the steps to the back porch, wincing every time the old wood creaked with the pressure of our footsteps. I motioned for Gwenlyn and Laurel to stay back, tiptoed to the kitchen window, and spied inside. At first, the kitchen appeared empty, but then a familiar figure passed through the dining room doorway and laid a small, faceless doll on the kitchen counter. I ducked beneath the windowsill.
“Why is Karma still awake?” I hissed at Laurel. “And why the hell does she have one of those damn dolls in her hands?”
Karma, our second eldest sister, had the ability to manipulate people with, for lack of a better term, voodoo dolls. But Karma, in any other circumstance, was so aware of the ramifications of her power that she hardly dared to ever use it. The fact that she was carrying one around was unsettling to say the least.
“It’s only eleven o’clock,” Gwenlyn pointed out. I glanced up at the placement of the moon. For some reason, it felt like the middle of the night.
“And Karma hasn’t slept through the night since you disappeared,” added Laurel. “Dominic may have altered our memories, but we can still feel that something is inherently wrong. Karma’s probably worried about you and doesn’t understand why.”
“Because she’s worried about someone who, to her, doesn’t exist,” I said, cursing Dominic’s trance once again. Not only had he turned my own family against me, but he had also drawn a dark curtain over each witch’s existence. For however long I had been trapped in the otherworld, my family had been suffering.
Laurel joined me at the windowsill and chanced a peek into the kitchen. “What’s the plan?” she asked. “How do we link Karma?”
“Well, we sure as hell don’t send Morgan in,” Gwenlyn whispered fiercely. “You nearly killed her.”
“Excuse me for not being a fancy medium and immune to Dominic’s power, Gwen,” Laurel shot back in a low voice. “I’m usually quite the pacifist.”
“Pacifist, my ass—”
I held up a hand to stop them from bickering. “Are you two seriously duking it out right now? You can fight over who’s the best youngest sister later. For right now, Karma’s in there with a very sharp pin and a doll with my name on it, which isn’t exactly an ideal situation.”
“Laurel should go in and lure Karma outside,” Gwenlyn suggested, still glaring at my youngest sister.
“What? Why me?”
“Because Karma trusts you more than she trusts me,” said Gwenlyn with a shrug. “Once she’s out of the house, Morgan and I can take her down and do the blood bond. Bada bing, bada boom.”
“She has a point, Laurel,” I agreed. “It’s easy and efficient.”
But before we could come to a consensus on the plan, the screen door banged open and Karma emerged from the house, the doll in one hand and a sewing needle in the other.
“I heard you through the window,” she said in a flat voice, and plunged the needle into the heart of the doll.
Chapter Seven
In Which Dominic Deteriorates
A hot, searing pain pierced my heart before I plunged into darkness, losing consciousness the second after Karma’s sewing needle punctured the canvas fabric of the doll. I remained aware of the state of my heart, still beating but tricked by Karma’s craft into thinking it had been pierced by the sharpest of knives. It struggled to keep my body working, but my mind had already relinquished all of my willpower to Karma. Never in my life had Karma used her ability on me, not even during our petty sister-versus-sister fights when we were younger. I had always been aware of Karma’s power, but this was a whole new level of understanding; the prospect of unendurable torture always lingered at the tips of Karma’s fingers.
After what felt like hours, though it was probably only seconds, the agony faded just as rapidly as it had come on. I wrenched myself back to alertness, pulling short, labored breaths in through my nose. When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying face up on the firm, splintered wood of the porch with three worried faces peering at me from above.
“Morgan?” Gwenlyn leaned over me and smacked my cheek a few times. I focused on her face, wondering just how zoned out I must have looked in that moment.
I opened my mouth and croaked, “Where’s Karma?”
“I’m right here.” From the sharp edge in her voice and the steely look of her green eyes, I could tell that my sister had been returned to her right mind. I could also tell that she was furious with herself for not being able to resist Dominic’s trance. “Gwenlyn socked me in the jaw, and Laurel added me to the blood bo
nd. Are you okay?”
Sure enough, I saw the red swell of a massive bruise spreading its way across the left side of Karma’s face. That was twice Gwenlyn had stopped one of my sisters from trying to kill me. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to do it again. “Just give me a second,” I said, closing my eyes again. “I need a second.”
Someone’s hand closed gently around my wrist, and soon I heard Gwenlyn’s coarse voice hum a healing spell. Her aura, as well as Karma’s and Laurel’s, pumped its way through my veins, rushing to the places in my body that needed help. My damaged vocal cords knitted themselves back together, and the lingering feeling of tightness dissipated from its place around my heart. Now that the four of us were linked, the healing spell worked faster than it would’ve from the hands of just one witch. Unfortunately, it didn’t work to re-energize me. Between Karma’s and Laurel’s attacks, I had had all of the stamina beaten out of me. Still, there was no option to head back to the loft for a nap. We had to bind the rest of the coven.
When I was ready, I pushed myself up from the porch and into a seated position. Gwenlyn, Karma, and Laurel stood back to allow me some breathing room. Then I reached out, took hold of Gwenlyn’s hand, and let her pull me to standing. Karma looked on, her eyebrows still knit together in fury.
“Karma,” I said, bridging the distance between us to wrap my arms around her. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have—”
“It wasn’t your fault,” I repeated. I drew away from her and spun around to show her that I was unharmed. “Look. Good as new. And now that you’re included in the blood bond, it will be way easier to add the rest of the coven. Where’s that doll?”
In whatever scuffle had followed my blackout, the doll had been pitched into the yard. Laurel hurried off the porch to fetch it and brought it back to us. I tried to give the now grass-stained doll to Karma, but she shook her head, refusing to lay a hand on it.
“We need to link Mom,” I explained. “And from the looks of how things are going so far, she’s going to put up a massive fight when we try to do it. Unless you control her.”
“Did you not see what just happened?” Karma asked, still pushing the doll away. “Nothing good comes from my abilities.”
“You were acting under Dominic’s trance,” said Laurel. “I was too. I tried to strangle Morgan. Come on, Kar, we need you.”
“No,” Karma said, shaking her head. “Besides, we all share that power now. One of you can do it.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” said Gwenlyn. She snatched the doll from my hands and thrust it into Karma’s arms. “Get over yourself. None of us know how to work that ability yet, so if you don’t do this, Cassandra is probably going to try to kill all of us, and we don’t want that, do we? Ever heard of using your power for good? Suck it up, Karma, and bring your mother downstairs.”
Once again, I sent a silent thank you up to the heavens for Gwenlyn’s presence on earth. Her brusque take on encouragement somehow managed to get through to Karma. My sister took a deep breath as her fingers closed around the doll.
“Let’s go inside,” I suggested. Laurel pulled open the screen door so that we could file into the kitchen and then into the dining room. From there, we could see the front hallway and the bottom of the staircase. “All right, Karma. All you need to do is get her downstairs. I can do the blood bond. Gwenlyn and Laurel, you keep watch in case Malia wakes up. We’ll bond her next.”
“You keep watch,” ordered Gwenlyn. “I think you’ve lost enough blood tonight.”
“Look who’s talking,” I said shortly. “But fine. You do it. Karma, you ready?”
Karma nodded, the doll cradled in the crook of her arm. Though Karma had several dolls, this particular canvas one was versatile enough so that she could control whoever she wanted with it. She only had to set an intention. She inhaled, and the doll began to glow with Karma’s lilac witchcraft. The sewing needle appeared in Karma’s hand, but this time she wasn’t using it to inflict pain. She pressed the needle into the head of the doll, manipulating it with a few simple twitches of her fingertips.
The old steps creaked as a set of footsteps clambered down them. My mother appeared, pale and ghostly in the night, her long nightgown flowing behind her as she descended the stairs. Like Laurel’s had been, her face was devoid of any kind of emotion. She stepped down to the landing and joined her daughters in the dining room, all without any indication that she recognized us.
“Go, Gwen,” I whispered, nudging Gwenlyn forward.
“I’m going,” she said back, taking a tentative step toward Cassandra. “She’s just kind of creepy like this.”
I couldn’t disagree. I had never seen my mother so passive. As Gwenlyn reached for Cassandra’s hand, I held my breath, waiting for my mother to respond in defense of Dominic’s hold on her. But Karma kept Cassandra subdued, and Gwenlyn had no trouble using the paring knife to prick Cassandra’s finger. Then Gwenlyn dug the tip of the knife into her thumb and pressed the two minor wounds together.
Cassandra’s eyes cleared instantly, and Karma pulled the pin from the doll. My mind once again expanded to add Cassandra’s ability of foresight to its growing repertoire. My mother could see briefly into the future, which would come in handy when we marched off to face Dominic.
Cassandra glanced down at the blood on her finger, then back up to her daughters. “Malia?” she prompted, asking about our eldest sister. She needed no other explanation of the blood bond, immediately understanding our intention. Dominic’s trance needed to be broken, and if this was the only way, Cassandra could accept that.
“Still asleep,” said Laurel.
Cassandra nodded. “Bring her downstairs then.”
In a matter of moments, Karma had manipulated the doll to convince our eldest sister, Malia, to join the rest of the Summers women in the dining room. Gwenlyn performed the blood bond, and once again, I watched warily as free will was returned to one of my family members. It was a relief, as we all came together for a group hug, to realize that this was the start of fighting back. From here on out, it would be simple to link the rest of the coven, as long as everything went according to plan.
“We should split up,” Malia suggested right away, massaging her temples as if Dominic’s influence still lingered there. “That way, we can get the rest of the coven linked together much faster.”
“I agree,” I said, “but I also think that we need to get moving on a plan to get our power back from Dominic.”
“I assume you have an idea?” my mother asked, her shrewd gaze lingering upon the subtle glow of my new tattoos. “Witches aren’t usually marked with ancient runes for nothing.”
I crossed my arms, too aware of how every witch in the room now seemed intent on examining the markings. “I met Dorothy Summers in the otherworld,” I admitted. A collective gasp went around the room, which I ignored to plunge deeper into my story. “She told me that the root of our power is housed in the yew tree, which we kind of already knew. But she also told me that in order to reclaim our power from Dominic, we need to destroy the yew tree. The destruction of the tree—”
“Will strip Dominic of the power and distribute it amongst the coven,” Cassandra finished for me.
“You knew that already?” I asked in disbelief.
“It’s a piece of knowledge that is passed down from coven leader to coven leader,” she explained. “Other than that, it’s not often shared. How do you plan on distracting Dominic long enough to destroy the tree?”
“We need intel,” said Gwenlyn before I could answer. “Dominic’s gone down the rabbit hole, guys. He’s lost it. From what I saw last time at the mayor’s house, he’s planning something big, and you know it won’t be easy on the coven. I vote that Morgan and I spy on Dominic while you three link the rest of the coven. Two birds, one stone.”
“Why do you get to go with Morgan?” Laurel asked.
“Because I’ve been to the mayor’s house once already,” said Gwenlyn.
“I know how to get in. Once we find out what Dominic’s planning and the coven is free, we can move on to getting the original power back.”
“Then we can kick Dominic to the curb,” I added.
“And how are we supposed to get rid of his army of ghosts?” asked Karma, exchanging a worried look with Cassandra and Malia. “They’re already dead. We can’t exorcise a whole battalion, not to mention these demons you’ve told us about.”
“I have a way to put them down,” I said, and I pulled the pistol from its place in my waistband to present it to my sister and mother. The barrel lit up again at my touch, as did the ancient runes on my arms. The witches, except Gwenlyn, all took hasty steps away from me, staring in awe at the weapon. “I got it from a lord of the otherworld,” I explained. “It’s the only thing that will send the ghosts and demons back for good.”
“Is it safe?” asked Malia.
I shrugged. “No idea, but it seems to work. I shot Ronan with it earlier. He basically evaporated.”
Cassandra extended a hand as if to take the gun from me, but she withdrew at the last second. “It’s settled then,” she said. “We’ll link the coven. You two scout out Dominic. We’ll meet back here.”
Karma, Malia, and Laurel headed for the front door—the rest of the coven lived nearby, in various houses in the neighborhood—but as Cassandra made to follow them, I held her back.
“Mom,” I said, keeping my voice low so that my sisters wouldn’t overhear. “There’s something else.”
“Yes?”
“Dorothy said that once we destroyed the tree, a new coven leader would need to be elected.”
My mother raised an eyebrow. There was no beating around the bush with her. “And that leader is to be you, I presume?”
I nodded.
Cassandra inclined her head in recognition. “I’m aware of this part of the ritual as well. Don’t worry about the transference of power now, Morgan. We’ll address it when the time comes. But remember, I always intended for you to become the leader of this coven.”
Witch Myth Omnibus: A Yew Hollow Cozy Mystery Page 18