“It’s too soon. We have to be sure he’s coming,” Quinn said.
“But I need time to prepare. If we wait until they get here, it might be too late.”
“Fine.” She needed to be doing something. He got that. The waiting was killing him too.
Jane came out to stand with Quinn. She wore her white ceremonial robe and carried her staff. She meant business.
“You glow like a beacon in that robe,” he said.
“I’ll stay hidden until I’m needed.”
He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Jane was the strongest witch he knew. If she needed to intervene, it would be because all other tactics failed.
“Thank you for being here, for helping.” Quinn said. “I know this must be hard for you.”
He watched her inscrutable face, looking for any hint of softening.
“I’ll do what must be done. I always do,” Jane said, and returned inside.
Quinn paced to the edge of the building and back. Emmett finished his tour of the cemetery and trudged up the hill from the back end. He leaned against the marble wall and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jacket.
“Damn, but I would love a cigarette, right now.”
“Sorry, I don’t have any,” Quinn said.
Emmett shrugged. “Gave ‘em up fifteen years ago. Ellen thought I’d die before her. Funny how things go.” Ellen had died many years ago, too long for Quinn to offer condolences. They watched an eddy of leaves in silence.
“You should prepare yourself,” Quinn finally said. “For when you see Bobbi.”
“What? You think I can’t handle a little magic? I’ve been fighting sorcerers since before you were born.”
“I know you can handle yourself.”
Quinn could sense his aether. It was tough as old boot leather.
“But Fain has really done a number on her. She’s changed. Your first instinct will be to run over and pull her away from him. You can’t.”
“I know. Molly already warned me. You’ve got to break his hold on her first.” He nodded towards Abilene’s altar. “I get it. I won’t go all cowboy.”
“By the time this night is over, we might need a cowboy.”
The wind blew hot and stale, more like the air through a bus terminal than a fall evening in the country. It howled through the trees. Dead leaves rose up and swirled like specters before dropping to the ground again.
Then the real specters came out. He’d seen them in his peripheral vision since sundown, single spirits seemingly lost or hovering above random headstones. Now they marshaled as a unit, over a dozen of them, shimmering bodies lined up at the base of the hill. They didn’t approach further, but they didn’t recede either.
“Well, that’s not good,” Emmett said.
“What does it mean?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t know, but we’ll have to go through them to get to Fain, if he ever shows.”
“Can they hurt us?”
“Depends on who’s pulling their strings. A ghost can’t do much damage, unless Koro has gifted them some kind of power. Then regular bullets won’t do much good, but I’ve got a few surprises left.” Emmett patted the rifle slung over his shoulder.
Quinn watched the ghosts milling around the base of the hill, like a pool of glowing spirit. They waited. They were all waiting. Abilene with her spell-breaker that might or might not work. Jane with her staff at the ready, Gavin, Molly and Emmett. His little army seemed pathetic in the light of what they faced. Before this night was through, they might have to battle a demon. He’d never heard of anyone winning that fight.
Wind slammed against the marble wall. Clouds flitted across the sickle moon. Headlights broke the darkness as a car wound up the road to the cemetery.
Quinn pushed away from the wall. “Show time.”
16
Impregnation
THE NIGHT WENT DEATHLY STILL.
Gavin watched Abilene’s candle burn. She sat like a statue inside the circle she’d drawn on the marble floor. Eyes closed, legs crossed, he knew she reached for Fain’s aether that held Bobbi captive. Abilene was the best sensate they had, but it was tricky, delicate work. Life was magic and so were spirits. She had to pick through all the aether swirling around the cemetery on this holy night to find the right one.
Gavin and Jane stood silently in the dark, cramped space. Abilene mouthed an urgent chant.
Quinn’s whisper reached them from the door. “It’s time.”
Sweat broke out on Abilene’s forehead.
They waited.
*
Quinn’s heart screamed for action as Bobbi walked up the path with mechanical steps, her head bowed, hair loosely covering her face. She stumbled. Fain didn’t steady her. He prodded her on like a cow to slaughter.
His flashlight beam cut the night.
Good. He wouldn’t see much outside its range. Every good security guard knew flashlights killed your night eyes. The beam flicked back and forth as Fain read the names of the grave markers.
He stopped at Dustin’s grave. Bobbi stopped too, head drooping, arms hanging like dead vines.
Emmett slipped back into the shadows to take up his position, but it looked like Fain had come without backup.
He’s as arrogant as I thought. Quinn hoped that arrogance didn’t mean he had other tricks up his sleeve. He slipped a knife from the sheath at his belt. His aether was low, and he’d need every weapon in his arsenal.
Fain crouched, brushed a hand across the grave and looked up. Quinn was confident he couldn’t be seen against the dark marble wall, but would he see the ghosts? Not every witch had an affinity for the dead. To Quinn’s eye, the wall of spirits shifted and flowed restlessly. Fain might not see them at all, but Quinn was done underestimating this witch. Ghosts were solitary creatures. They didn’t gather unless someone controlled them.
Fain stood and brushed his light across the ground, his pudgy face folding into a frown. The flashlight beam moved in an arc, then he bent to inspect the grass.
Shit. He could feel the circle. Their trap was discovered. Fain yanked Bobbi backward. She stumbled again and fell. This time he let her lie where she’d fallen, right on the edge of the sacred circle that Jane and Gavin had consecrated.
So Fain could sense the magic, but not its exact dimensions. They might have a chance to pull this off.
Quinn’s fingers tightened on the blade in his hand. They itched to slit the bastard’s throat.
The ghosts attacked.
*
“Any time now, little sister,” Gavin said.
“I’m trying.” Abilene gritted her teeth. “Got it.”
Even Gavin’s weak sensate ability felt the tug of power as she drew Fain’s aether toward the candle. To break the spell, she needed to plunge the aether into the sanctified water, where it would be trapped. And when the candle burned down, the spell would shatter.
Abilene swayed. Gavin dared not steady her. If he broke the circle of salt she sat in, all her efforts would be ruined.
Another fraction of an inch to burn.
“Incoming!” Quinn shouted.
A blue light whisked through the door and right through the back wall, followed by a gust of wind. The candle flame fluttered erratically. Hot wax hissed as it hit water.
No! The flame must burn out in the water. If the wind put it out, they were done.
The flame steadied. Abilene gulped air.
“What the hell was that?” Jane snapped.
Gavin stood in front of the candle, trying to block the wind with his body. He peered into the night. A wall of shimmering ghosts stalked up the hill toward them.
“The spirits. They’re attacking.”
“Block them!” Jane said. Aether gathered in the tip of her staff.
Another ghost blew in and flew around the small room, funneling the wind. The candle sputtered. Jane’s staff blazed and the spirit hit Gavin.
It hit him!
They couldn’t fight insubs
tantial spirits, so Jane had made them corporeal. Gavin shot out a hand and grabbed the ghost by the throat. In life, it had been a young man with long hair and a sharply cut face. He stared at Gavin in surprise, translucent blue hands grasping at the fingers on his throat. Gavin unsheathed his knife, doubly blessed this morning by the Lord and the Lady, and plunged it into the ghost. Surprise jolted the spirit’s face and he dissipated into wisps of aether that slipped through Gavin’s fingers.
Outside the remaining spirits howled and charged. Gavin loosed his magic. It dug into the ground and pulled at roots from far away, calling them to do his bidding. Branches shot up in front of the columbarium, blocking the door.
The ghosts pounded at the barrier of branches and vines, wailing in fury at their now unreachable quarry.
*
Quinn ignored the ghosts running for the columbarium. Gavin and Jane would have to deal with those.
Only Bobbi mattered now. Quinn’s heart lurched as Fain picked her up. She hung limp in his arms. How much soother magic did it take to turn a woman into a rag doll?
He ran down the slope, two ghosts trailing behind. They were nothing more than a nuisance until one of them tripped him. He stumbled. No time to wonder how they had become corporeal. He punched the first ghost in the jaw.
Shots fired from the shadows and the spirits disappeared in puffs of aether. The med-mage was making good on his promise. Of course a Paragon would know how to defeat ghosts. He left Emmett to his target practice and ran on.
Two hundred yards to go. He didn’t bother hiding. They had lost their surprise advantage.
Fain raised Bobbi’s arms above her head and pulled off her shirt.
Quinn put all his energy into running. Fain looked up and flicked a wrist. A headstone jolted from the ground and hurled at Quinn. He dodged, but the stone clipped his ankle and he fell. Another sailed over his head and shattered against the monument behind him. He had no aether left to make a shield, but he pushed himself up and staggered forward, one slow step at a time.
Below, Fain spun Bobbi, unclasped her bra and flung it aside. Her jeans caused him more trouble and he slit them with a knife. Bobbi crumpled to the ground again. He left her like that while he lit candles in protective glass votives and set them in a circle, then ringed them with salt. Fain’s smug face showed him completely at ease, as if Quinn’s presence was of no consequence.
That worried Quinn. Had he booby-trapped the cemetery? Had they missed something in their preparations?
Quinn’s ankle gave out and he fell to one knee. Fain grinned and waved to him. A screen of gravel hit Quinn in the face, blinding him. He swore and hobbled down the hill, clutching his knife like a life-line, weaving through the graves to make himself an unpredictable target.
Fain advanced on Bobbi, knife gleaming in the candle light.
Come on…wake up!
Bobbi lay like a corpse. Fain swiped the blade across her chest.
“Now Abilene!” Quinn shouted and lunged.
*
Ghosts pounded on the screen of brambles.
“Abilene! We need that spell broken now!” Jane hissed.
“It’s almost there,” Gavin said. Abilene couldn’t speak. She held herself rigid, her will clamped on Fain’s aether. The candle burned at water level. Only a thin rim of wax held back the water.
A hissing scream came from outside and one of the ghosts disappeared in a puff of aether. Behind it, Emmet’s eyes peered through the branches.
“All clear,” he said, “but you’d better hurry.”
Outside, Quinn screamed.
Inside, all eyes watched hot wax leak into the water.
*
Quinn jumped over a headstone and skidded on gravel. He gasped from pain and exhaustion, but Bobbi lay only a few feet ahead, her expressionless face smeared with blood. From deep in his soul, he found the strength to lunge for her.
Fain looked up from his wet work and spoke one word. Fire exploded in a circle around him. Flames leaped, blazing white hot.
Quinn didn’t stop. He ran into the ring of fire.
And smacked into a ward.
He fell, hitting his head against the ground and lay stunned. The bastard had salted his circle with black powder to ignite a shield.
He wouldn’t be able to get through it. Not with his aether so dangerously low. He sat, considering his options while Fain leered at him through the flames.
“Did you think I wouldn’t be prepared for you?” he said.
Bobbi lay naked and vulnerable, arms bent at painful angles. The cut on her chest leaked blood between her breasts. Her eyes stared at the black sky. Fain shoved her with a toe.
A candle fell over in the wind and extinguished in the grass. Quinn jumped up, hoping the break in the circle would mean a flaw in the ward. He pounded on the barricade of flame. His fists sizzled and the air filled with the stink of burned hair, but the ward held.
Fain smiled, righted the candle and relit the wick.
Quinn was fueled by rage now. Bobbi might be a zombie, but somewhere inside she was aware. She felt the wind across her bare skin. She hurt from the unnatural bend of her limbs. Some part of her screamed in fear.
Fain hovered over Bobbi, assessing. He looked at her naked body, not the way a man looked at a woman, but the way a butcher looked at a carcass of beef.
Then he sliced across her chest again.
Quinn roared.
*
The candle hissed. The flame went out. Abilene fell over in the darkness.
“Get that hedge down now!” Jane said.
Gavin pulled at his magic, reeling in the energy he’d so recently poured into his barrier. The vines wilted and shrank. Jane blasted the brittle branches with a flare from her staff and was gone.
*
“You cut her again, and I’ll kill you.”
Fain grinned, dipped a finger in the blood trailing down Bobbi’s chest and licked it.
His face contorted, eyes bulged. A second face superimposed on his own. Black eyes, bulbous brow, with the hint of protruding horns. Fain wore this new face like a badly fitting mask.
“I am not finished with the blooding, witch.” A commanding voice boomed from his throat. “When I am done here, I will come for you.” He pointed a hand that had turned skeletal.
Koro. The blood, the magic, the thinning veil of Samhain. It was enough to bring him forth and now he rode Fain, a master in complete control of his puppet.
He bent and sliced another line on Bobbi’s chest, making a cross of blood.
The unnaturally loud voice boomed again, incanting the rite that would release Koro from his dark prison and bring him fully into their world.
He’s going to kill her!
Quinn pounded uselessly on the ward, not caring that every strike lashed his fists with hot pain.
The Fain-Koro creature dropped the knife and unzipped his pants. He gave Quinn one last leer before turning back to his prey.
Holy gods, he wasn’t going to kill her. He wanted something much worse.
From behind Koro, Bobbi screamed.
It was the most beautiful sound Quinn ever heard.
17
Resuscitation
SOMETHING WET DRIPPED DOWN MY BREAST.
I sat up. The world spun. I wiped my chest and stared at my fingers.
Blood.
My eyes slid sideways.
Fire. Black sky. A face through the flames. Frowning. I knew that face.
“Quinn?” The name stuck in my throat. Thirsty. I was so thirsty.
“Lie down!” Hands shoved me flat. William filled my vision, his lips twisted in anger. Something was wrong with him. His appearance flowed and morphed. A huge nose seemed to lay over his. Stubs of black bone protruded from his forehead, then were gone. His eyes shifted from William’s pale blue to black and back again as if I watched a flickering screen.
Then the features solidified into a brutish brow with stubby horns, bulbous nose and thick, wet lips.
William, but not William.
Oh gods. I let him touch me? Kiss me? I loved him.
Everything I felt for him dropped away like stones, leaving only terror.
William yanked his pants, freeing his fully hard cock.
“Take me.”
I jerked away. Searing heat stopped me. A wall of flame rose at my back. Someone yelled in the darkness.
“You think you’re so high and mighty.” Flames lit the round face as it morphed back to William. “You wouldn’t give me the time of day. But I made you want me. Stupid bitch. I told you we would change the world.”
The face morphed again and I stared at the aspect of a demon.
Koro lunged.
*
“Jane! I need you!” Quinn screamed. He battered the ward, ignoring burned flesh. Inside, Fain jumped on Bobbi.
“Mother, now!”
Jane seemed to float over the ground in her glowing white robe. The rest of the crew tumbled through the darkness behind her. Jane reached the ward and pushed Quinn away. She took a deep breath, and spoke in the language of power, calling to the Mother to join aether with hers.
Quinn had heard this language a dozen times in his life. While she spoke, he understood her perfectly, but afterwards, he would never be able to recall the words. More spirits gathered, drawn by the aether. They milled around like a medieval crowd eager to see an execution.
The wind puffed Jane’s robe and swelled her hair. In the glow of aether, her face was stark, her eyes without mercy. She raised her staff to the sky, gave a primal scream and slammed it into Fain’s ward. It boomed like thunder.
The ward held.
Bobbi screamed as Fain tried to consummate the rite. Quinn could do nothing but watch.
Soothed by Magic: Hidden Coven Series, Book 2 Page 8