Summon (Rae Wilder)

by Penelope Fletcher

  I will not let these bizarre emotions deter me from my endgame.

  I would avenge my innocence and find peace in one conclusive battle.

  Satisfied my Daughter and I were private I turned to her expectantly.

  Holding out her hands in supplication, she avoided my gaze. “The Coven is uneasy.”

  “This is a difficult time.”

  “We understand this. My mother trusted you, so I have trusted you, but–”

  “But,” I repeated with an edge of bitter menace.

  “Covens pay tithe to the witch with the greatest power.”

  “No witch surpasses me.”

  “Begging forgiveness,” her gaze lowered, “one does.”

  Rather than give leeway to the twitchy anger her words roused, I kept my voice calm, and willed the frayed thread of my patience not to snap. “Ana is not stronger than me.”

  “True, but your Children have discussed it and you’re only half witch. Ana’s birth mother was a witch, may the goddess we serve rest her soul. A Coven Mother with less than a quarter of other blood would strengthen our craft. Each day that passes your fairy traits become more pronounced and–”

  My hand choking her airway strangled the remainder of her sentence. I squeezed the pale column of her neck until her face turned scarlet. “Your birth mother was the closest thing I had to a mother. She’s the reason you’re not a pile of smouldering ash for having the gall to stand before me as you are. Eva’s not yet cold in the ground, and already you seek to displace me?”

  Naomi gurgled frantically shaking her head. She dragged in air to squeak, “Divided.”

  I eased my hold, realising I teetered perilously close to tearing her head clean off her shoulders.

  “We’re divided,” she blubbered. “Weak and faltering because of it. Most despise the Loa. Some are too terrified to speak let alone cast. The rest offer their bodies to Malice’s orgies and lifeblood to Marinette in worship. It’s madness.”

  “Many call me mad.”

  “But we know the truth.” Her voice regained conviction though it remained hoarse. “It’s not madness, but greatness. Look at us. How low we’ve fallen. The godlings will bring the Coven’s destruction if you continue this way.” Her eyes widened a fraction. “Surely you realise your sister will come?”

  “You dare speak of her with awe?” I glared. “You’re more frightened of her than me?”

  “I’m merely brave enough to say what others whisper behind your back.”

  “Brave?” My bellow shook the walls. A few days past this witch ran screaming from vampires. I tossed her away from me. “I see a betrayer who proclaimed herself faithful ready to stab me in the back. Is there no loyalty?” Blood rushed in my ears, the boom of my heartbeat deafening. “Can I not have a moment’s peace without fearing for my life? There is no trust. None.” The Coven cowered on the dais they’d once reclined on. Casting spells to torment vampires whilst volubly worshiping me, sycophantic in their supposed fidelity. “You are nothing without me. Faithless deserters.” I stomped my foot and the earth quaked. The witches stumbled as they struggled to retain balance. “Good Children follow their Father without question. Without doubt.”

  They swelled back as I lifted my hands, magics sparking at my fingertips. Throwing my head back, hands fisted and arms flung wide in frustration, I roared until my throat burned.

  If I unleash magics in this rage, I’ll kill them.

  Naomi blanched and fled as I advanced, muttering an incantation for protection as she crawled. I diverted my anger, slapping a puling male across his chubby face. I snarled at another who scurried from my wrath.

  A chilling sound stilled all movement. Marinette’s hollow laughter drew every eye.

  The owl resting on her shoulder took flight as she descended from the pedestal of boulders. The crawlers scattered. Chin lifted imperiously, she drifted across the distance between us on bare feet oozing ichor. Her gaze wandered over Naomi dispassionately as if looking for the right swathe of flesh to cut and glean a better understanding of the entity squatting before her.

  Trembling, Naomi lowered her head and curled into a ball.

  “They have displeased you?” Marinette observed.

  “Yes.”

  “Discipline them.”

  Chest heaving, I shifted my flinty glare to her. “I was.”

  “You held back.” Her hand idly stroked my chest as she circled. “How will they learn respect if you show mercy at defiance?”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Malice shake his head. He turned his face away, and crossed his arms as if preparing to shield himself from internal pain.

  A warning to tread with caution stirred behind my anger.

  As one, the zonbi ceased their aimless meandering and shuffled closer.

  Werewolves crept up behind us on silent paws and tilted their heads at Marinette. Kneeling, she indulged the stoutest wolf with languid strokes on his fur-slicked muzzle, cooing softly. Expression rapturous, her pupils dilated, aroused by her intentions.

  My lips parted, ready for the words to stop whatever chastisement she premeditated, but they gathered so hastily they got stuck in a tangle on my wagging tongue.

  Puffing in excitement, she whispered in the creature’s fluted ear. “Punish them.”

  The werewolf flung his head back and howled.

  The Pack rushed forward, swirling Marinette’s skirts about her legs as she stood, and twirled airily to enjoy the bloody carnage born of her command.

  The vampires hiding in the shadows blurred into movement and leapt on the witches, yanking heads back and sinking their teeth into bared skin.

  Raj stopped at my side, shaking. He made not one move to join them though his hunger was blatant.

  Terror became a stench I tasted at the back of my throat.

  Blood misted the air. Limbs flew. Chunks of flesh splattered the grass. Screams turned into gurgles of death, and cries for mercy fused into an ear-splitting clamour that was amplified by the acoustics of the domed building.

  Taken by shock, I dragged a hand over my face, speechless.

  Unperturbed, sat cross-legged under an apple tree forced to bear fruit, Damballah whistled a tune.

  The piercing sound echoed in my ears.

  My mouth opened to demand the slaughter stopped, but nothing came out.

  Beside me, clasping my shaking hand between hers, Marinette watched with an expression of exquisite satisfaction. “I suppressed their magics,” she confessed in a breathless rush. Licking her lips, her feverish eyes shone. “I didn’t want my pets harmed by any nasty hexes.” Gristle spattered her neck. She rubbed the gore with a fond smile directed at the vampire fang deep in neck cartilage. “Vampires make the most darling of companions, but the zonbi create an art of skull crushing, rapacious yet utterly captivating in their butchery. It’s why I’m patroness of the undead. Mortal propriety cannot tame them. Their baser natures liberate the beast that hides within us all.”

  I trembled when Naomi turned horror-struck eyes on me. The warm shade of brown reminded me of her mother’s kind eyes. “Father.” Her voice was a guttural screech as she fended off a slobbering werewolf with nothing but her torn cloak. “Save us.”

  An ominous sense of danger saturated the atmosphere, and the darkness of the night gained crushing weight.

  “You dare call him Father?” Marinette’s cheeks became sunken and her flesh wrinkled. Her pallor turned sickly grey as if decayed tissue. The hollows of her eyes were cast into shadow, and her pupils burned flame bright. “A good Daughter follows her Father without question or doubt.” She harshly whispered the reprimand shooting me a proud look.

  My echoed avowal sent tremors of shame ripping through the core of me.

  As fast as it transformed, Marinette’s face returned to normal, and the menacing pall lifted. “Bare your neck and learn your lesson,” she said in a singsong voice, smiling prettily as if her visage hadn’t been nightmarish.

  Death had become a sil
ent friend in my life. A dark promise of paradise I toyed with. Too afraid to succumb myself, I perversely pushed others to see if they’d take the plunge.

  I was merciless in my quest for vengeance against my birth family and insatiable in my anger at the world’s unfairness.

  Even I must have limits.

  Weren’t there lines I would not – could not – cross?

  I thought of the old Coven Mother Eva marching into the Nest where I’d been imprisoned and offering me freedom. I looked across at her daughter moments from being torn apart in a gruesome death as good as delivered by my hand if I did nothing.

  “Stop.” The word was wrenched from me. I yanked my hand from under Marinette’s grip. “They’re mine. Stop this.”

  The godling’s heated gaze turned frigid.

  I realised then how close to death I danced. Marinette regarded me as she had the hatchlings. Expendable. To her I was nothing, an entity to play with then dead when I no longer amused.

  She made a moue as her decision formed in the hellish pits masquerading as her eyes.

  Is this how my victims felt before I guided them to death?

  “In your honour,” she said, voice tinged with warning, “I spare those standing. Those who flail on the ground….” Her smile was terror incarnate, so pretty, so deadly. “Those blessed souls belong to me.”

  I fought to keep my legs from folding, and directed my attention to those I could save. “Come to me.”

  Naomi and two others still on their feet hesitated then staggered towards me. Naomi slipped on a puddle of fleshy innards and skidded into my arms. I caught her then waited for the other women to reach my side.

  I placed myself between them and Marinette. The gesture was useless.

  I failed them.

  Raj hesitated then stood beside me, a mean snarl ripping from his pale lips.

  The sadistic godling paid us no mind. She busied herself tormenting the dying witches who lay crippled on the floor.

  “I warned you,” Malice murmured.

  He caught Naomi as she slipped from my arms and scooped her up. She’d fainted as the werewolves mauled the bodies of her fallen Siblings.

  “I’ll take care of them.” Malice jerked his chin at the women. “Follow me. Gwendolyn and Raj will protect you until we reach my refuge.”

  Mouth dry, I turned dead eyes to him. “Why?”

  “A question that has many answers. I’m taking your Daughters because you need to focus. Marinette’s Familiar has returned.” He inclined his head to the black-feathered owl perched on a nearby tree. “Whatever she’s waiting for has happened. Something changed at the fairy Wyld. The godlings there are weakened in some way. It’s time to pick.”

  I eyed him, and the way he cradled Naomi in his arms. “Pick? What do you mean?”

  “A side. Choose your allegiance.” Malice grinned, already shrugging off the horror he’d witnessed. He paused to throw a parting shot over his shoulder. “You got serious shit to think on. No?”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Alec

  Breandan appeared lost as he wandered into the forest. Conall and Lochlann walked off ranting at each other about their younger sisters, but Breandan merely slouched, and trudged into the trees.

  Baako gave him a minute lead then silently followed.

  “You think he’ll be okay?” I asked.

  Maeve stood with her arms looped around my neck, but her attention focused in the direction of her older sibling. The expression on her face was nothing other than pained. “Breandan is a loner, and secretive with his thoughts. He’s used to working through his troubles alone.” She nibbled on her top lip with sharp bottom teeth. “He’s different with Rae. I don’t think he’ll last long before he goes after her.”

  I studied her beautiful face. “I think so too.”

  Delicate arches of red hair pulled low in concern. Her crescent of darker eyelashes fluttered as her eyes adjusted, her gaze piercing the deeper shadows of the misty forest her brother escaped to.

  “I couldn’t bear to know you faced danger without my protection.”

  “I feel the same.” She flushed and moved closer. “That’s why I’ve come to a decision.”

  I trawled my hand through her fiery locks, marvelling at their softness, and crisp floral scent. “Sounds ominous, Maeve, my own.”

  “When you leave, I’m coming with you.”

  I cocked my head signalling confusion even as my heart leapt. “You’re not the High Priestess?”

  “Tradition ties the Priestess here to the Wyld.” She rubbed her forehead. “I think I can split my time between the two.” She glanced at me, hopeful. “Could you stay here half the year?”

  “No.” I cupped her cheek. “I’m Alpha. My Pride is in turmoil. It would be cruel to abandon them now. We’re a male dominated society, and I must be present to keep the potential alphas in line.”

  She blinked. “Then I’ll pass the responsibility to someone else.”

  I wanted to scoop her into my arms and laugh. The shame and unhappiness reflected in her eyes stopped me. “I can’t let you do this.”

  “This was never my destiny.”

  “I didn’t expect the position of Alpha, but I am.”

  “This is something I’m honoured to have been given, but it’s not my life. I admit if you weren’t in the picture I’d be seeing this as everything, but knowing you’re out there makes me see this isn’t worth as much as I thought. I understand why Rae was so angry at everyone expecting her to choose duty over her heart when she saw a way to have both.” She rested her cheek on my chest. “I’m going with you.”

  I wrapped my arms around her. “Promise me if you change your mind you’ll tell me.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Your family–”

  “Will deal with it.”

  My eyes widened. “Lochlann is going to freak.”

  “He won’t kill you, no matter what he says, or how close his sword swings.”

  The threat of death didn’t lessen my ardour. The beast thrashed inside, wanting to soothe our mate, and complete the Claiming.

  My teeth elongated, and saliva slicked the walls of my mouth, pooled on my tongue.

  I craved the bite that would make her mine.

  Digging deep, I found the strength to pull back, and use my brain rather than the lust-driven organ further south.

  It was too soon, and everything up in the air. I wanted it to be special. Maeve rushing the decision to become one with me would be a grave mistake.

  Fairies didn’t mate the same as other demon species. Even goblins were known to get crazy aggressive if the female they bred was under threat from another male.

  I didn’t want Maeve to see me as uncouth, or unable to repress my animalistic urges.

  “Do it.” Her breathy voice made me jolt. Her fingers stroked my cheek and swept down to my chest then lower. She flattened her hand against my abdominals and gasped when they tightened. “It’s okay.”

  “We’re different, Eve.” I violently trembled, gripped her upper arms to keep her from touching me. It was difficult to think straight. “I do this, and there’s no going back.”

  “I understand.”

  “It’ll hurt.” My voice was gravelly. “You’re not a shifter.”

  She swallowed nosily, but her eyes were steady. “Okay.”

  I tangled a hand in her hair and gently pulled. Her head tilted, and I tugged on the collar of her dress. I hungrily scrutinised the perfect skin covering her slender throat and shoulder.

  Lowering my head, I ran my nose over the curve of her jaw then pressed my mouth to her racing pulse. My canines throbbed, ached with need. They grazed her skin. Maeve shivered and shimmied closer, her lithe body pressed tightly to mine chest to groin. Her arms wrapped around my waist and kneaded my lower back.

  Breathing hard, my jaw opened wide.

  Mine.

  A hand grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of my head and yanked.

  Roar
ing, I pushed a startled Maeve away and twisted, lashing out.

  Nimah ducked my claws, fuming. “Not only am I stopping something monumentally stupid, Alec, I need your attention. I can’t wait three days until the mating heat lets you climb off of her.”

  “Nimah, what the hell are you doing.” I dragged Maeve into the protective shield of my body.

  “Mating heat?” Maeve cried.

  Her cheeks were rosy from the excitement of before, her eyes glassy. Her gaze bounced between the two of us and Amelia, who hovered behind her twin, body tense and expression mortified.

  Nimah’s sneer of distain took ‘unkind’ to a whole new level. “Didn’t you know that part?” she asked. “Three days of sex where you’ll be scratched and bitten until his inner beast is satisfied its Claim on you can’t be disputed.”

  Horrified, Maeve gaped. Her gaze swung to me, accusing. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “I told you, we’re different. I told you it would hurt.”

  She stared into my eyes, looking for sincerity. “I thought you meant the bite. I didn’t realise how involved the animal within you needed to be.”

  Nimah scoffed a laugh. “How dumb are you? He’s a shapeshifter. He spends half of his time as a panther, and since you’re not two natured the beast’s satisfaction threshold is going to be damn high.” Nimah snorted. “I have doubts you’ll even survive. Shifter females are designed to withstand the vicious aspects of the mating heat.”

  “Enough,” I bit out, warning her.

  Maeve shot me a cross look and shook off my arm. “Let her speak.” She planted herself in front of Nimah, face troubled. “Go on.”

  “You can’t shift into animal.”

  “And?”

  “You won’t be able to fully sate your mate’s need for intimacy.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “The panther can’t mount you. It’ll drive the beast insane with need, and its urges will rise when Alec breeds you. He’ll be more aggressive and dominant because the other half of his soul is frustrated.” Nimah rolled her eyes. “And I thought Rae was dense.”