by J. L. Weil
She was dead. How was it possible that I could summon her in my dreams?
I filed that under “crap I needed to remember to bring up on our next visit.” And if things went the way I was starting to scheme in my brilliant, yet troublesome brain, it would be soon.
Very soon.
Setting the licked-clean bowl aside on my nightstand, I turned the volume on the TV down. With a bat of my eyes the bedroom was immersed in darkness, except for the weak moonlight shining through the window.
Magic rocked.
Trying to relax was harder than it sounded. I snuggled on my pillow, pulled the covers to my chin, and stared at the ceiling, wondering how I was going to consciously dreamscape Morgana. All the other times I had shared dreams with Lukas, I didn’t know what I was doing. Even with the practice, this time wasn’t entirely the same either. I was going to be merging dreams with a dead witch, not a living person.
Closing my eyes, I tried to picture her face. The dark red hair framing her face, eyes just like the ones I saw reflected every day in the mirror, and a connection to her I could no longer deny. I thought about all this while my breathing evened, relying on my natural gift to lead the way. All I could do was cross my fingers and hope for the best.
My lower back tingled with warmth, and I felt my body go under. The next time my eyes fluttered open, a cool mist kissed my cheeks. I wasn’t anywhere in particular. There wasn’t anything defining the area; it was like being stuck in the clouds. A dense fog covered the air around me, not scarily, but angelic. Vapor curled under my toes, weaving in and around me. There was a fresh cleanliness with each breath in my lungs.
And I wasn’t alone in this serene heaven. There was my Grams, looking like a Grecian goddess. The white of her flowing dress was striking against the long length of her crimson hair. Ribbons tangled around her bare feet and up her ankles.
I did it, I thought, and did a little happy dance in my head.
“With a little help,” her majestic voice broke through the silvery mist.
Thanks for stealing my thunder. I needed to learn how to do that whole read-your-thoughts trick, or at least figure how to block it. “I guess I should be glad you got the message.”
“Loud and clear, dearie. So what do I owe the honor of being summoned?”
“I have some questions.”
“I see you have already made the ‘which boy do I choose’ decision.” She tapped a nail on the bottom of her lip. “What could you possibly have on your mind?”
“What, are you stalking me?” I blurted out.
She gave a throaty laugh. It suited her and her flaming hair. “I see so much of myself in you, except the whole prude thing.”
My mouth dropped open. Did my great grandma just imply that I was tease or that she was a slut? Either way, I couldn’t decide which was better.
“Give that boy what he wants already.” Her cherry lips rose in a sinister smile. She loved to shock me.
I coughed. By the time I regained my composure I was red-faced and pissed. “Just so you know, I am not a prude, and how did this become about me? How do you know I have boyfriend?”
“I told you. Where you are concerned, I make it my business to know. You forget, I’ve already met the lucky stud. Besides, I’ve left you little hints over the years. I wouldn’t want you to think that you were alone in this world…or beyond.”
“What do you mean, little hints?” Then it dawned on me. “That was you at Tori’s. And here I thought I was being haunted by Casper the not-so-friendly ghost.” I ran a hand through my auburn hair. “So you are stalking me.”
She snorted in a very lady-like manner. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.”
“Why are you suddenly so interested in me? Why now?”
“You know why now. You’ve got magic, and you are not just any witch.”
“So I’ve been told,” I mumbled.
“No, you haven’t. At least not everything, but you will find out soon enough.”
What was that even supposed to mean, other than confuse me? My head was already spinning, the doubts and questions swirling in my brain. I needed to stick to one topic, answer one question at a time, until I could put all the pieces of the puzzle together. The black spots on my aura were at the top of the list. “Can you see auras?”
She started to stroll through the mist, feet walking on air, the trail of the silky white material of her gown dancing in fluid movements. “I have many talents, but no. I have never dabbled with auras. I wasn’t blessed with the sight. Why do you ask?”
I followed behind her, trying not to step on the train. “I have a friend who can. She says I have black marks on my aura, like little slivers are missing.” I didn’t like the look that sprang into her violet eyes. It sent a tremor down the center of my spine, and I stumbled.
Damn these stupid ribbons bound at my ankles. It was only a matter of time before I killed myself with these things wrapped around my feet. I don’t know how she walked so graceful.
She quickly recovered her composure, putting her typical overly confident enchantress back into place. “A few black marks never hurt anyone,” she sneered, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
What. Bull. Shit. “I don’t believe you.” Why had I expected her to be surprised by my defiant outburst?
She wasn’t.
Lifting a thin brow, she put both of her hands on my arms, her purplish eyes flaming into mine. “Good. Trust nothing, no one but your own instincts. They won’t let you down. The sooner you learn that, the better witch you’ll be.”
Oookay. Now she was starting to scare me. “You make it seem simple.”
Her grin was crafty. “When you trust in yourself, it is.”
God, she sounded like a Hallmark card. I fought to not roll my eyes, however, I did pout. “Easy to say when your aura isn’t being taken over by black holes that you may or may not have brought onto yourself.”
Her painted lips only widened at my teenage annoyance. She was acting like a know-it-all grandparent, and I wasn’t sure she’d earned the right. “Now who is being over-the-top? Looks like it runs in the family.” I gave her a dry look.
“I see you’ve had time to be marked.” She spun me around before I had a chance to protest or figure out what her intent was. The neckline on this flowing getup left my entire back exposed. If I had to guess, she was in charge of wardrobe during these dreams. Talk about an invasion of personal space. A cool finger traced the enchanted design of my rune. In my head, I knew what she saw.
Her soft chuckle blew against my hair. “It’s beautiful and suits you, considering it is my symbol. Did the artist know who you were?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I turned around and shook my head, once again caught off-guard. Would she forever be one-step ahead of me? “No. We’d never met before, and I told her nothing of myself. What do you mean, it’s your symbol?”
“My family crest.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about having something permanently on my body that represented something of Morgana. But it was too late for take-backs.
“Perceptive,” she said, lost in thought. Her hands gripped either side of my arms, securing my attention. “Which means you need to be even more careful. If the artist could sense our connection, it won’t be long before others will, as well, if they haven’t already. And that, my dear, for you, would be grave. You’re the last of my blood.”
I opened my mouth, but my hold on the dream slipped from my grasp as thousands of questions tumbled to the tip of my tongue. Waking up, my breath came out in short, quick gasps, my heart beating double-time, and a dull throb worked into the back of my temples.
I had mentally and physically exhausted my capabilities, but it didn’t stop the frustration from rising. I wanted more than anything to go back under, but I would be risking my health if I did. The last time I’d pushed myself too far, I ended up in bed for longer than I wished. I wasn’t very good at being idle.
One question ec
hoed in my mind. What was so dangerous about being her last living descendant?
Chapter 26
IF I HAD TO SAY happy holidays one more time, I was going to scream. Mystic Floral was bursting with patrons getting their Christmas poinsettias. The bell over the door jingled relentlessly, letting a cool winter breeze into the shop. My feet were starting to ache, my lips were tired of smiling, and I was moments away from breaking the Christmas CD playing through the speakers.
Checking the time on my phone for the millionth time, I sighed. For some reason this day was slower than molasses. I kept getting this creeped out feeling that someone was watching me. Paranoid, I know, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. First inclination was Morgana, but I wasn’t so sure.
“Do you have plans tonight after work?” Aunt Clara asked. The afternoon rush was over, and we had a few minutes of downtime.
She must have noticed my distractedness. I only had another hour left of work, and already I was counting down each precious second. I shrugged. “Not really.”
“No hot plans with Gavin?” There was a hint of amusement in her voice.
I snickered. “Speaking of hot plans, I saw someone the other night steaming up the windows in the doorway with a certain tall gentleman.”
She gasped. “You saw that?”
“Yep. And now I am completely scarred for life.”
“Please. I’m not buying it. I’ve seen your boyfriend. You could probably teach me a few things.”
Now it was my turn to be shocked and embarrassed. “Were so not going there,” I groaned.
She pursed her lips and studied me. I didn’t like the look on her face. She was going to go there. “Okay, now that we have sort of broached the subject…”
I moaned louder and put my head in my hands.
“And you have your first boyfriend, which I am glad you got straightened out. It wasn’t fair to lead anyone on. We should talk about protection.”
“There is so nothing to talk about.”
“Still, it would make me feel better. You’re often home alone and things can get…heated. I know what it is to be young and in love, and I can see it in your eyes. You’re in love.”
“Fine,” I conceded. “I get your point, but you really don’t have to worry. There is no one more responsible than me.”
She brushed my hair off my forehead. “Don’t I know it,” she said, smiling tenderly. It was just the kind of smile that reminded me of my mom.
Driving home from the shop, I couldn’t help but notice how magnificent the twilight sky glimmered. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, and it looked like you could see all the way to Venus. The sun hadn’t completely set. I was having a hard time keeping my mind focused on the road. It was the perfect night for stargazing and playing connect-the-dots with the constellations, not constantly checking out the rearview mirror to see if you were being followed.
Yet, I couldn’t help myself. Halfway home, goose bumps spread over my arms, making my heart pick up speed. I didn’t feel safe. I should call Gavin. The sound of his voice would be enough to calm this jittering, suspicious feeling pumping in my veins.
I tried to set my mind on other things. Like Christmas. It was just a few weeks away. I wasn’t really feeling the holiday spirit, and hadn’t even started my shopping. I don’t know; this year, it lacked that magical ambiance. The stress of trying to find the perfect gift for Gavin was giving me an ulcer.
That was a problem for another day.
There was a giant sense of relief when I pulled into my driveway. Speaking of gifts, I was given the greatest present I could imagine: a heart-stopping Gavin sitting on the hood of his car in my driveway.
The spooky feeling forgotten, my eyes ate him up as I shut the door to my poor car. He had a silly grin pasted on his face and eyes brighter than the moon. Someone was definitely up to something.
“Well, this is a treat, not that I’m complaining. What are you doing here?” I asked, walking around the side of his car.
He pulled me between his legs and planted a kiss that made my head reel. “I missed you,” he murmured, his eyes running over the planes of my face.
Fireflies frolicked in my belly. I laid my head on his chest. “Me, too.” His heart beat under my ear.
I was wrapped up in Gavin’s arms, content to stay there all night. Too bad fate had other plans. A shadow jumped out of the darkened trees. Strands of magic trickled in the air as a witch appeared from darkness, immediately on the attack.
I stifled a scream, my hand flying to my mouth. His face was hidden by a hood, with only his sneering mouth visible. I barely had time to register what was going on before Gavin pushed me out of the way.
“Stay behind me,” he insisted. His jaw popped.
Like I could do anything else; fear froze me in place. I grabbed onto his arm as he stood protectively in front of me. His muscles under my hand bunched, readying for an attack. A surge of magic gathered in the air, building. I shivered in fear and from the iciness rolling off Gavin’s body.
Instantly, he turned from loving boyfriend to the ruthless dark witch. I knew better than anyone what his magic could do to someone. With our lives possibly at stake, it was a gamble I was willing to risk.
“My quarrel is not with you, young defender,” the cloaked witch called from the trees. “I just want the girl.” He began to walk toward us.
Gavin stiffened in front of me. “Sorry. She’s already taken.” His voice was dripping like icicles.
Without a warning, the mysterious witch cracked his neck and charged. Apparently, he hadn’t liked what Gavin had to say. Magic charged through the air, burning like green acid. It sprayed the space around us like a grenade, heading right for us. Gavin, turning on the balls of his feet, engulfed me in his arms, throwing an invisible shield over us. We barely escaped the shrapnel of a searing ball of emerald fire. I wasn’t familiar with fire magic, but this guy meant business. And I was pretty sure that business involved killing me.
I could only hope that Gavin was a stronger and faster witch. My bet was always on him. It didn’t matter if this assassin was a seasoned witch. My faith was on the guy I loved. Gavin circled the witch like a wolf, going into predator mode. Sleek. Lethal.
His eyes were tiny orbs of flaming sapphire, intent on only one thing—keeping me safe. “Two can play that game.”
Instinct took over. With a snarl, Gavin lunged for an attack of his own. Spitting shards of metal spears, he flung them into the intruders midst, catching him in the shoulder. Fire guy flinched for a brief second and leaped forward, the spears disappearing from their mark.
“Hmm. I might have underestimated you,” hissed fire dude. “Time to correct my mishap.”
The shadowy figure blinked from my sight, only to appear in front to me. My heart plummeted. Precious seconds ticked by as my life teetered on an invisible thread. Staring into the gleaming eyes of a witch, intent on taking my last breath, I could think of nothing. One-handed, he laced strong fingers over my neck, ribbons of magic crashing into my windpipe, cutting off all oxygen.
Everything happened so fast. I gasped at the loss of the substantial oxygen I needed to live. In cold fear, my brain shut down. It never occurred to me to use magic to save myself. I was too stunned to believe that this was really happening. Someone actually wanted to kill me.
Why?
In those split seconds, Gavin, in a deadly arc, pivoted to face the nameless witch. The eyes I loved were like jagged slivers of frozen ice. They showed no emotion. Turning himself off, he looked like a natural born hunter—a killer.
Only an idiot would not fear Gavin, my dark witch. Even as the assassin’s hands squeezed around my throat, I felt a quiver of fear at seeing the transformation. Gavin would never hurt me, but that still didn’t mean he wasn’t a formidable force to be reckoned with.
Out of thin air, a magical dagger appeared in Gavin’s hand. He was just full of surprises. It was ominous and onyx in color, shimmering with colossal power. I didn’
t have to be told that this dagger was something to fear. It rippled in the twilight.
“Play time’s over.” Gavin glared in the pitch black of night.
The mysterious witch’s eyes went wide right before Gavin plunged the knife into his heart. I heard the whoosh of the blade before it struck. He was so close to me that I felt the gasp of his last breath right before he exploded in front of my eyes. Glittery remains rained where he had last stood. I shrieked, turning my head away and squeezed my eyes shut. Only a moment later, I was swooped into Gavin’s secure embrace. I buried my head into his chest.
So that’s what happens when a witch dies. At least there wasn’t a gruesome amount of blood. I couldn’t have stomached that. Who he was? What he had wanted? Why me? Would this be the last attempt on my life, or was this just the beginning of things to come? So many questions I may never have answered.
There was something in the starry sky that whispered of trials I had yet to face. Things were bound to get worse before they got better.
I shivered against Gavin’s chest.
“Bri, are you all right?”
I lifted my head and focused on Gavin, his midnight eyes speckling with worry. His hands ran over my body, checking for injury, cuts, and broken bones, now that our adrenaline was spiking down.
“He’s dead,” I whispered, still in shock.
Those dark blue eyes sought mine. “I’m sorry. I wish you hadn’t seen that, seen me kill.” His words were heavy on the heart, his heart. I felt him tremble.
My arms tightened around his waist as I searched for a way to ease his heart. Looking down at the pile of debris glittering the ground at our feet, the wind suddenly churned, carrying it away. “At least we don’t have to dispose of a body,” I said, in a lame attempt at lightening the dreary mood that settled over us.
I felt a tiny smirk against my hair, and his arms settled over my shoulders, keeping me close. “Bri, I didn’t have a choice, if I hadn’t—” There was regret in his tone, along with vulnerability.