Eloise pulled her attention back to the conversation as Skye reached out a hand and touched Shelley’s wrist. ‘What is it?’
‘This.’ Shelley opened the diary and pointed to a long passage on one page.
Skye turned the diary around and frowned. ‘This looks much older than the ones I’ve been looking at.’
Shelley nodded. ‘We’ve all been mostly reading from the latest ones—your aunt’s, your father’s. Which makes sense, seeing he was the one who was training you and if there’s any help to be had, you’d find it in his diaries. But after finding that information about body shifting in some of the older diaries, I decided to go even further back. This is one of Bridgette Colliere’s diaries.’
‘What?’ Skye’s hand moved over the diary reverently. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘Jason brought it down from the main pack lands last week for me.’
Skye glanced up at him. ‘You didn’t tell me?’
He frowned. ‘Shelley said she was doing some personal research into her ghost problem and you’ve been so busy with your own study, I just didn’t even think about it. I wasn’t keeping it from you.’
Skye’s fingers touched the centuries-old paper. ‘It’s so well preserved.’
‘It’s coated in a spell of preservation,’ Shelley said.
Skye looked up at her. ‘Did you find out something about how to control the ghosts?’
Shelley grimaced. ‘I actually lied about that. But I didn’t want to say anything just in case I was barking up the wrong tree. I didn’t want to worry any of you.’
Skye stiffened. ‘Well, now you’ve got me worried.’ She bent over the passage. ‘It’s hard to read.’
‘It’s the ancient form of English it’s written in. It takes a little getting used to.’
‘Why don’t you give us the crib notes?’ Adam suggested.
Shelley pulled the diary back to her, hands shaking. Eloise edged closer, wishing she could read what was there—but a cat jumping onto the bench and looking at the page would draw too much attention.
‘Here.’ Shelley pointed. ‘It says you are related to the ancient Morghanna Cantrae.’
There was a roaring sound in Eloise’s ears and she jerked to her feet, the motion making her fall off the couch. Tinsel cascaded around her and she couldn’t help but yowl as she got caught up in it. Adam, who was closest, bent over and extricated her from the shiny, dusty mess and plopped her on the back of the couch. ‘Bad timing with the comic slapstick, little kitty-cat,’ he whispered, ruffling the fur on her head with a rough pat. ‘Do it again later and you might get more attention.’
Surprised by his actions, she didn’t even think to lash out at him as Skye’s harsh whisper broke the silence. ‘What? No. That’s impossible.’
‘It’s not impossible.’
‘But Morrigan and Morghanna were the last of their line,’ Jason said.
Shelley shook her head again. ‘That’s what everyone was led to believe, because Bridgette Colliere thought it was the only way to keep him safe from the others.’
‘Keep who safe?’
‘Morghanna’s son.’
Eloise’s hair stood up on end. Morghanna’s son! Morghanna’s son had died with her. At least, that’s what family lore stated.
Jason echoed her thoughts. ‘But Morghanna didn’t have a son. She didn’t have any children. There’s no record of that.’
Shelley held Jason’s gaze. ‘There is a record. In Bridgette Colliere’s diary. She and Morghanna had been best friends prior to the Were-Witch Pact. Even when Morghanna was tied to the MacCraes and they were separated by distance, they maintained their friendship. In fact, Bridgette was there for the early birth of Morghanna’s son, and when Morghanna received the message about the illness in her family’s village, she left her son in Bridgette’s care. She didn’t want to take him on the journey because she knew it could be dangerous, not to mention he was very small. Bridgette had only kept him alive by using a combination of magic and herbal lore to help him breathe.’
‘Oh my god.’
‘What danger was there in helping a sick village?’ Adam asked.
‘It was the time of the Witch Hunters. Many witches and warlocks had exposed themselves due to their powers getting out of control. People had been hurt and killed and it was too easy for simple peasants who had once relied on the witches and warlocks to care for them when they were sick, to make it rain when they needed it, to help with failing crops, to believe the evil being said about the covens who had once lived openly among them. Many were captured, tortured, burned at the stake; many who weren’t even witches, just simple herbalists and midwives. Morghanna knew if she went to help her old village with her herbal knowledge, she could be exposing herself to suspicion.’
‘But she went anyway?’
Shelley nodded. ‘She was a good woman.’
‘Hard to believe she and Morrigan are sisters then.’
Shelley shook her head at Adam. ‘Morrigan wasn’t evil back then. It was what happened to her sister that changed her. Phillipe, Morghanna’s lover, was killed because of the actions of Lachlan MacCrae, the son of the Alpha Morghanna was tied to. Because of Lachlan, Morghanna was captured, tried, tortured and burned at the stake for witchcraft. It’s why Morghanna cursed the MacCraes. But I think she intended her curse to ensure the Were would never let such a thing occur again—and to make sure they looked after her orphan son.’
That’s not how Morrigan views it, Eloise thought.
‘So, Bridgette adopted Morghanna’s son?’ Jason asked.
‘Of course she did. He was a little baby. The son of her friend. What else could she do?’ Skye said.
Shelley shook her head. ‘Nothing as simple as that. With the death of the MacCraes, there was nobody to claim him. Except for Morrigan.’
‘But Morrigan doesn’t know of his existence, does she?’ Skye said slowly.
‘No. And she never can.’
‘But if she knew I was the direct descendant of her sister, surely that might change her mind about trying to destroy me? We could use this to our advantage.’ She looked between them, the light of desperate hope in her eyes. ‘I mean, it’s her grief over the loss of her sister that’s fuelling her rage. If she knows she hasn’t truly lost the last of her blood, then surely that might change things?’
‘She doesn’t want to destroy you, love,’ Jason said, grasping her hand. ‘She wants to use your power to fuel her own so she can break the pact and kill all Were.’
‘But that would destroy me, don’t you see? Surely she wouldn’t want to do that to her blood, if her blood is so important to her.’
Jason brushed her hair back from her face. ‘The fact you will eventually die when she takes your powers is just collateral damage to her. She’s too far gone to think otherwise.’
‘But we could try.’
Eloise tensed. Could Skye be right? Would Morrigan change her mind? Skye was her blood. And Morrigan was always saying that blood mattered. Goddess! She needed to get this information to her Mistress as soon as possible. She leapt off the couch and padded to where the doggy door for Tom’s puppy had been installed. But just as she was about to step through, Shelley spoke. Eloise stopped to listen.
‘No. We can’t tell Morrigan. She can’t ever know.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because if she did, it wouldn’t be you she’d come after, it would be River.’
‘What? Why? He has no power. Without me, he is useless to her.’
‘No, he’s not. You see, Phillipe had a little secret he never told anyone, not even Morghanna. Bridgette was certain her friend would not have invoked that curse if she’d known Phillipe’s secret.’
‘What secret?’
‘That Phillipe was part Were,’ Jason said, understanding suddenly coming to his eyes.
‘No!’ Skye breathed. ‘How could she not have known when Bridgette did?’
‘The Were gene doesn’t show itself from birt
h in those who are half-breeds,’ Jason said flatly. ‘The boy probably looked perfectly normal when he was born, but something must have happened after Morghanna left to betray Phillipe’s secret to Bridgette.’
Shelley nodded. ‘The night Phillipe died and then again when Morghanna was burnt at the stake, the baby’s eyes changed. He grew fangs and howled at the moon. Even though she was shocked, Bridgette understood immediately that because of the Curse, nobody could ever find out who the boy was. Especially Morrigan.’
‘Because he was half Were?’
‘Yes. The curse Morghanna invoked was especially tied in to her own blood to keep them safe, and yet, the curse she invoked had the power to destroy her own son because she didn’t know he was half Were.’
‘But I don’t understand what this has to do with Morrigan or River.’
Eloise wanted to know the answer to that question, too. She watched, impatient, as Shelley paced away, running her fingers through her hair.
‘There was strong opposition to the Were-Witch Pact from certain sects of the witch and warlock community, but Bridgette was the most powerful witch that had ever been seen and there was no way they could undo what she had canted. However, Morghanna’s curse found a way around that for the few that were tied to the MacCraes, and obviously Morrigan decided to try to use it. But she didn’t know there was an easier way.’ Shelley’s fingers clenched around the edges of the bench as she looked her friend in the eye. ‘Morghanna’s son is key to the pact’s survival or destruction. As are his direct descendants. If any of them are hurt or killed by Were or by magical means, the Curse would immediately come into effect and because Phillipe, and therefore his bloodline, wasn’t tied into a particular pack, it would affect them all.’
‘Oh, God.’
Eloise felt like she’d been struck by lightning. She’d been given the knowledge her mistress had been searching centuries for, but it wasn’t the salvation they needed. If River was killed, then the Curse would unfold. But if River was killed, then Morrigan would lose the last connection to her sister.
What would she do?
Eloise knew what she would do. Blood mattered.
She had to tell Morrigan before she did anything she would forever regret. But she hesitated, knowing she should listen to the rest of what Shelley had to say.
‘Morghanna’s son’s safety was paramount. If those who opposed the Were-Witch Pact were to find out about him, then everything Bridgette had worked so hard and long for could be destroyed. She had to make certain he survived; that his progeny survived. So she had him adopted by her Alpha and bound him to her daughter. When they were old enough, they were married and had children of their own, thus securing Morghanna and Phillipe’s line and entwining it with her own.’
‘But then, doesn’t that mean both of us are at risk if she finds out?’
‘No. You don’t understand. The blood isn’t as strong in you.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because you’re a witch and River is a Were.’
‘That’s because my mum was a Were.’
Shelley’s eyes were full of regret as she shook her head. ‘No. It’s not. The Were gene is passed down through both male and female lines, but the colour of the wolf is very specific to their bloodlines. Jason is a silver and gold wolf because his father was silver and gold. Adam is black because their mother was black.’
‘River is a russet-coloured wolf. My mother was silver and white.’
‘Yes. And if the family trees in the diaries are anything to go by, her parents were silver and white and black and white, and those colours feature heavily in her lineage. There is no record of a russet-coloured wolf in your mother’s background.’
Skye gaped. ‘River is Were because he got the gene from my father!’
Shelley nodded. ‘I have no idea why the gene was recessive for so long that there’s no record of a Were born to the Colliere line before. Maybe it was the first time a Colliere had mated with a wolf, bringing the recessive gene to the fore. But the point is, River is a Colliere/Cantrae Were, not a Fergusson Were; his Were genes passed down from his ancient grandpa. Which means,’ Shelley swallowed hard, her eyes filled with worry, ‘River is the last male of Phillipe’s line. The danger that was attached to Morghanna’s son is now River’s, a blood spell inherited through generations of blood. If he dies without progeny, without having experienced life and love and all the things Morghanna wanted for her son, then the Curse will be enacted again, and in full this time.’
‘So we’re back to where we started when Skye was taken,’ Adam said into the stunned silence.
‘We can’t let anyone know this. Ever.’
As Skye looked around the group, they all nodded.
‘The diary needs to be protected. It can’t fall into the wrong hands.’ Shelley picked the diary up, clutching it to her chest. ‘Imagine what could happen if—’
Her words were cut off by the sound of the front door slamming. ‘Skye? Shelley? Jason?’
‘In here, Bron.’
The icy touch of premonition curled along Eloise’s spine, ruffling her fur and making her arch. Morrigan had taken River. She planned to do something horrible to him to break the pact.
Hissing, she flew out of the doggy door, not waiting to hear what happened behind her. She had to get to Morrigan. She had to tell her what she’d heard before her mistress did something she might regret. Forever.
Chapter 21
Bron flew around the entrance to the kitchen, her face white, gasping for breath, her eyes wild and full of tears. ‘Thank the Goddess you’re all here.’
‘What’s happened, Bron?’ Jason asked, moving towards her.
‘River?’ Skye asked.
‘I can’t feel him. I can’t sense him. Oh Goddess! My head.’ Bron doubled over, clutching her head.
‘Bron!’ Jason wrapped his arms around her, holding her upright, while the others flocked around her.
‘Bron, where are you hurt?’
She peered up at them, at the sea of familiar faces in front of her, but at the same time, she saw something else shadowed around them. A room. No. Not a room. It looked more like a cellar; racks of wine lined up against bare rock walls. She shivered at the damp cold air.
‘Bron?’ Fingers pressed at her head. She looked up to see Shelley peering at her. ‘Where does it hurt?’
‘I’m not hurt,’ she gasped. ‘River. It’s River. He’s been taken.’ She saw the shock of her statement slam into them.
Jason immediately shook his head. ‘No. That’s not possible. He’s guarded. Iain would have let me know if anything had happened.’
The front door slammed and Patrick ran into the room. ‘Iain’s missing, and Gareth too.’
‘What?’
‘How can they be missing?’
‘Does this mean Morrigan’s got River?’
‘Shut up everyone. I have to concentrate. Adam, can you take Bron?’
Hands shifted on her and she was pulled against a warm, strong chest—the wrong chest, her soul and heart cried. Adam lowered her into a seat then stood beside her as if on guard. But he wasn’t looking at her. Nobody was looking at her. They were all looking at Jason.
She tried to focus her gaze on him too. He closed his eyes, his brow furrowed. Everyone held their breaths, waiting for him to use his Alpha link. His shoulders slumped after a moment and she knew—she knew—before he said the words she didn’t want to hear.
‘I can’t contact any of them.’
The room erupted around her; shouting, pacing, Jason demanding calm, calling others to him, people moving into the room as he took control.
‘But why would she take him now? She can’t do anything until Yule. Shelley said she’d need the power of the cross-quarter days and a full moon to make a grab at my powers again.’
‘I won’t let her anywhere near you.’
‘But if she is somehow still connected to me by what she did at Halloween … Oh God! If she’s got h
im …’
Skye’s confused, pained voice disappeared in the roar in Bron’s ears. A fist had clenched around her heart and squeezed at this confirmation of her fears. A small part of her had been hoping she was wrong about River, even though she knew she wasn’t. She’d felt him being taken. Had been knocked unconscious by it. When she’d woken, hours later, it had been to a feeling of such emptiness that for a moment she thought someone had died and she just wasn’t remembering. Then she’d felt it.
The loss of River in her subconscious. She’d barely been aware of him being there before last night. He’d become a part of her so slowly that she hadn’t realised how inexorably woven into her psyche he was. And now there was an empty place where he had been.
‘Bronwyn. Please don’t cry. Not for me.’
Bron sucked in a breath at the sound of his deep voice in her mind. ‘River?’
Silence fell around her as everyone turned to look at her. But she didn’t really notice them. All she noticed, as she wrapped her arms around her chest as if to hold her aching heart in, was that she wasn’t empty. The space where River had been wasn’t empty. It had just been silent. So silent, she’d thought he was gone. But he wasn’t.
‘He’s here,’ she said, grinning like an idiot as the tears poured down her face. ‘He’s still here.’
‘What is she talking about?’ Shelley asked.
‘I can feel him. He’s here, with me. He’s not gone.’
‘How could she know that when you don’t?’ Skye said, her voice bewildered as she looked at Jason.
A face swam before Bron’s eyes as large hands grasped her shoulders. She tried to focus on the face, but it was hard to see through the tears and the strange shadow image of the cellar.
‘Bron? Did you and River start the mating last night?’
Bron nodded.
‘Bloody hell,’ Adam said. ‘How did that happen without you knowing? The Alpha always knows.’
‘Not when the Were is almost a lone wolf.’ Jason’s lips pressed against Bron’s forehead as his fingers tightened on her shoulders in an encouraging squeeze. ‘I knew it was a possibility, but I wasn’t certain he’d let it happen. This is more than I could have hoped for. It’s wonderful news.’
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