‘How can you say that? River has been taken. And Iain and Gareth. We have no way of knowing where they’ve been taken or what’s happened to them.’
Shelley nodded. ‘Skye’s right. How can Bron being River’s mate be a good thing? It’s horrifying. For them, for us.’
‘There you’re wrong. It makes all the difference.’
As Jason shifted, Bron could see Skye, and even through the double image and tear blurring, she noticed her friend’s pallour, her eyes wide and glistening as fear and worry tinged their green depths. ‘I can find him,’ she whispered. ‘I can see where he is.’
‘You can?’
Bron nodded. ‘Don’t you know that about Jason?’
‘Of course, but we’ve completed the mating. You haven’t even shared the bond wine yet—or have you?’
Bron shook her head. ‘No. But the mating has started. He mentioned something about the second stage this morning.’
Adam looked at Jason, his expression dark, confused. ‘That’s not possible. Not so soon.’
Jason’s smile widened. ‘It is. Because of the healing. They don’t need the wine. Bron is already in his veins. Her essence has been in him since that first night. It’s what the dark thing marring his soul has been fighting against. Huh.’ He shook his head. ‘I didn’t see it.’ He looked up, wonderingly, at Bron. ‘But you started the mating the moment your healing power touched him that first night. This will save him. It’s the only thing that ever could.’
‘He won’t let it go any further,’ Bron muttered.
Jason’s smile widened as he looked at Skye, took her hand in his, his electric blue eyes glowing with what he felt for his mate. ‘It’s not only up to him. And if you can see where he is in your mind, if you can hear him in your head, it is already too late. He can’t pull back now, no matter how hard he tries.’
‘I don’t want him to try. I love him. I need him in my life.’
Jason nodded. ‘Then let’s save him and the others and you can make him see the truth of that.’
Bron took in a shaky breath, her hands gripped tight in her lap. ‘Okay. What do I have to do?’
‘Close your eyes and concentrate on him. Find the essence of him in your soul and follow that down the mating link to its source. Fill your mind with him. You’ll be able to see in part what he is seeing. It might help us figure out where Morrigan has taken all of them and what she plans to do.’
Skye sat beside her and took her clenched fist into her warm hands. ‘You can do this, Bron.’
‘I know.’ A few days earlier she might have questioned it, even the day before she might have questioned it, but something had changed in the last twenty-four hours. The full meaning of the dream quest wasn’t quite apparent to her, but she had grasped the bit that had been clear. She’d shared something with River the night before, something she never imagined could be possible. And all because she’d seen herself as she truly was and managed to grasp the courage to explore that. To hold what she wanted in her hands for the first time in her life and own it. Enjoy it.
Her grandma had tried to tell her weeks earlier, but she hadn’t been ready to truly listen. She had listened to someone else. River. Like her love for him, it had crept up on her how much she trusted him. She had listened to him when she hadn’t even listened to herself. She’d healed Tom because he knew she could; she’d tried other ways of healing to reopen her business with great success; she’d looked deep into herself, past the hurt and abandoned little girl she’d always felt like and to the Goddess-struck brilliance he saw every time he looked at her and she’d seen her worth.
She wasn’t just a healer. She was a Healer. She was a friend, a Pack Witch, a businesswoman, a faithful granddaughter and a loving daughter to parents, who didn’t deserve her love but still got it anyway.
And best of all, she was River’s mate.
Bron’s mouth twisted as fear gripped her. The only person she’d failed to help was River and now he was in danger and he was all alone.
She shook her head, banishing the old voice of creeping doubt. It had no place in her life anymore. River wasn’t alone. He had her. He would always have her. And she would make bloody certain they all survived this so she could force him to understand the importance of that.
Skye squeezed her hand again. ‘I don’t want to rush you, Bron, but we have to save River. Now. Shelley, tell her.’ Skye nodded at Shelley.
Looking more grave than Bron had ever seen her, Shelley told her about what she’d read.
‘Goddess, no.’ Bron shook her head, her fingers closing tight around Shelley’s. ‘She couldn’t know that, could she?’ She looked up at Jason.
‘The diaries have always been kept safe. No one but the McVale Coven members are allowed to read them and given I’ve never heard a rumour about Morghanna’s son from any other source, I think we’re safe to say nobody else knows. I think he’s safe for now.’
She met his steady gaze. ‘He’s not safe. Morrigan is insane. She can and will hurt him. And the others too.’ Determined not to fail, she closed her eyes, conjuring up an image of River. His beloved face, his gold-flecked hazel eyes burning, searing into her with a look that made her feel like she was the only thing that could assuage his hunger. She sank into that look, gave herself up to it as she’d given herself up to it and him last night. Light flared in her mind’s eye, then she was soaring, flying along a twisting path of fiery gold and deepest russet with flecks of green.
She gasped as the twisting path ended and an image of a cellar swam into her mind. ‘I can see where he is.’ She’d seen this cellar before, but the image this time was far clearer. The room was cool and smelled of the thick scent of clay in the carved-out walls, touched with the scent of salt. ‘He’s underground. In a cellar … but there’s nothing to tell me where it is.’
‘Ask River if he knows.’
She took in a shaky breath, her chest tight and hurting, and thought to that part in her she now knew was River. ‘He’s groggy. She injected him with something. It’s why it’s all so hazy.’
‘Ask him if he knows where they took him.’
‘River. Do you know where you are?’
‘Bron?’
‘Yes, it’s me, my love.’
‘How? How are you in my head?’
‘The mating.
‘It’s not complete.’
Bron trembled at the pained rejection in his tone, but kept her voice steady as she answered him. ‘Complete enough to help me find you. I know Morrigan’s got you. Can you tell me anything?’
‘A cellar. I’m tied down to a table. There’s light, but it’s not much. I can’t tell you anything else.’
She told them what he said.
‘Okay.’ Jason’s thumbs rubbed in soothing circles over the back of her palm. ‘Close your eyes and concentrate on not only what he sees, but what he smells, what he hears. Any of those could give us a clue.’
Lips pressed together, she bit the inside of her cheek as she tried to go deeper, tried to find some clue to let them know where he was. Hot tears pricked her eyes, seeping out of her closed eyelids to run down her face, cold sweat pricked her skin; her heart thumped loudly in her ears, her breath a harsh rattle in her throat as she tried, tried, tried so hard to see or hear something. Anything.
‘Are you okay, Bron?’ Shelley’s voice near her ear. ‘She looks like she’s going to be sick.’
‘Are you sure she can do this?’
‘She has to.’
‘Shh, let her concentrate.’
Bron cut out the distractions around her and sank into her mind, concentrating with everything in her on River, on where he was.
‘I can smell damp, like mould. And dust. And salt.’
‘That could be anywhere.’
‘Shh.’
She took in a deeper breath. ‘Pine. I can smell pine.’
‘Like disinfectant?’
She shook her head slowly, breathing in again. ‘No. It’s not strong
like disinfectant. It’s softer. Fresher. Pine trees maybe?’ She cocked her head. ‘And there’s a low rumbling sound.’ What was that sound? She knew it. Had heard it many times before.
Her eyes snapped open. ‘I can hear the ocean. Waves smashing into a beach.’
‘Pine trees and a beach nearby. That could be most of the Peninsula and a great deal of the forested areas near the Great Ocean Road.’
‘No. She couldn’t have taken him that far. She’s only had him a couple of hours, so we have to guess she’s taken him somewhere with a cellar on the Peninsula.’
‘But we still don’t know exactly where,’ Skye said, her breathless plea full of worry.
‘See if you can find anything else, Bron. Anything to pinpoint a place.’
Bron was shaking with the effort, but she nodded and closed her eyes, seeking deep inside herself, deep inside River. Tears fell faster down her cheeks as she pushed outward, trying to feel or sense anything. But there was nothing other than what she’d already sensed. She pushed harder, grasping onto her determination of before. Pain stung her palms as her fingernails drove into her skin.
‘Don’t hurt yourself, Bronwyn. Not for me.’
‘What about for Iain and Gareth. She’s got them too.’
‘They wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself to find them any more than I do.’
‘I don’t believe that. I’m not more important than any of you. Especially you.’
‘That’s not true.’
She felt him try to pull away from her. She held on tighter. ‘Don’t, River. I won’t let you refute me. I’m going to hold on no matter what you say. So help me. Please help me find you. I can’t live without you.’
‘Don’t say that, Bronwyn. I’ve already told you, I’m dying anyway.’
‘No. I won’t let you.’
‘There’s nothing you can do.’
His words were like a spark inside her mind, her healer powers aligning with the new powers to deny the truth in them. Knowledge gushed into her, through her, all the pieces and clues falling into place.
All she had to do was believe. That’s what her grandma had been trying to tell her. Where River’s trust had stemmed from. What the dream quest from the Goddess meant. If you believed and you had power, you could make it true.
At one, finally, with who she was, she stared down the face of the mating bond and knew what she had to do.
‘You’re wrong,’ she said, voice resonating with the strength glimmering inside her. ‘When it comes to healing, there’s nothing I can’t do.’ And saying that, she reached right down inside her and wound as much of her power and herself around the mating bond as she could.
‘Bronwyn. What are you doing?’
‘I am creating a beacon to light my way. I will find you, River. And then I will heal you and we will finish this mating. I’m not letting you go. Ever.’ She flooded all the love and joy she felt for him through the mating bond, creating a light so intense, even in her mind she almost had to look away. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more power.
She pulled it from her friends, from Jason, from the pack.
Shelley and Skye gasped, Jason’s hands tightened on her fists; Adam jerked beside her and muttered, ‘What the fuck?’ But she ignored their sounds of surprise and used the power she could syphon from them to pour into the beacon she was creating. Finally done, she opened her eyes. Strength poured through her, from her. She felt like she could fly.
Jason knelt in front of her, his face pale, blue eyes glowing with awe-filled apprehension. ‘What just happened? What did you do?’
‘River is convinced the Darkness inside him is going to kill him. I poured my love into him, and all my healing light to chase away his hopelessness. As I did it, I realised I could use that light to create a beacon that would allow me to find him. But I needed more power, so I took it. I hope you don’t mind?’
‘Mind?’ Skye asked, sitting hard on the couch beside her. ‘You are a genius.’
A smile broke out on Bron’s face, a true smile, one she hadn’t felt for too long. ‘You can feel it too, can’t you?’
Skye nodded.
‘It’s so bright,’ Shelley whispered.
‘What’s bright?’ Adam asked.
Bron looked at him and then back to Jason. ‘It doesn’t matter if I can’t see or smell or hear where River is. The beacon I’ve created will show us the way.’
Chapter 22
Morrigan’s Athamé sliced down, the glinting silver now dripping with blood. River bit back the scream struggling to get out as the knife cut into his chest. His wolf, brought forward by what Bronwyn had done, lunged inside him, snarling. The Beast—which had gone quiet when Bronwyn had slammed her love into the mating bond—stirred. River felt it lift its head, interested in the pain. ‘No,’ he gritted out between clenched teeth.
‘No?’ Morrigan laughed. ‘That’s all you’ve got to say?’ She grinned down at him, her eyes swirling with darkness. ‘Let’s see if I can elicit more than a “no” from you.’
The knife sliced across his chest again, a line of hot fire. River jerked against the bindings holding him down. The Beast growled. River grasped at the golden wash of love Bronwyn had flooded him with what seemed like an aeon ago, but was possibly only an hour or so. The Beast slashed at it, its claws leaving a smear of Darkness through the gold. River cried out, ‘No!’
‘Still no? Maybe this will make you scream.’
The point of the knife dug into his pectoral muscle, scraping along bone. He clenched his teeth, the strangled scream of anguish becoming a moan as the Beast snarled inside him. The knife lifted again, his blood dripping from the tip. He braced himself.
‘No! You can’t kill him.’
Morrigan’s raised hand stilled, her knuckles whitening, the Athamé shaking as she turned to glare at the bedraggled girl who stood in the doorway. ‘You dare to stop me?’
‘You can’t kill him,’ the girl said again as she limped towards Morrigan, her hands held out in appeal before her. River’s nostrils flared as he recognised a scent that had suddenly come into the room with the girl. A familiar scent that was faintly tangled with another one he knew intimately: Bronwyn! What the hell? Who was she?
‘Please, Mistress. Just listen to me.’ She was panting, her voice tight with fear. ‘He’s related to you. He’s a direct descendant of Morghanna’s son.’
‘My sister’s child died with her.’ Morrigan’s voice was low, but so full of suffering and grief it took River by surprise.
‘No. He didn’t. Please, you have to stop and listen.’
‘You should be at your post. Why did you leave it?’
‘You said to tell you if I found out something important. And I did.’
‘Why didn’t you contact me by phone as agreed?’
‘I tried, but Cain refused to pass on my call. He said you were busy with the Were you’d captured. He wouldn’t listen when I tried to tell him, so I stole some clothes and one of their cars to get here as fast as I could.’ The girl moved, her left foot dragging across the dirt floor, bruises showing on the pale skin where the oversized T-shirt hung off her shoulder. Bronwyn’s T-shirt. The one she often changed into after work. Where had she gotten it from? Had Bronwyn sent her here? She held her hands out and he could see the palms were scraped raw. Her gaze flickered to Morrigan, then back down again.
‘Please, Morrigan … Mistress. You have to listen. You’ve always told us blood matters.’
‘What does that have to do with this?’
The girl swallowed hard, her face paling at the venom in Morrigan’s tone, but she stood steadfast even with her gaze lowered. ‘Shelley found something in the diaries, in Bridgette Colliere’s diary. She said Morghanna birthed her son early. Bridgette Colliere kept him hidden from you and then mated him to one of her daughters.’ She pointed at River. ‘He is the direct descendant.’
River jerked as if he’d been hit. The girl’s words roared in his head, swirling around s
ickeningly, making it impossible to take them in.
Morrigan’s sharp bark of laughter cut into the swirling mayhem of his thoughts. ‘That’s impossible. I’d feel it if he bore my blood. He is nothing but a filthy Were.’
‘Who are you calling filthy, bitch?’ River snarled.
Morrigan turned, murder in her eyes. The hand with the Athamé slashed down. The girl cried out, flinging herself forward and across his chest. The knife scored across her back. She jerked and screamed. Blood sprayed across his face.
Shocked silence followed her scream. River looked up at Morrigan whose face was filled with rage-tinged surprise, then down at the limp form on his chest. Was she dead? Had she died trying to protect him? Why would she do such a thing? Who was she? ‘Don’t die. Don’t die,’ he whispered. ‘Not for me.’
She stirred, groaning. River let out his breath in a gush of relief that stirred the tawny hair spread across his blood-stained chest. She shifted, lifted her head to look at him so he saw her eyes for the first time. Peridot eyes with a cat-like slant. He knew he’d been stared at before in just that way, by eyes the same colour as hers, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember when. ‘Who are you?’
She shook her head and pushed up from her prone position, blood dripping from the slicing cut across her arm and back, a red stain on Bronwyn’s favourite T-shirt. But she didn’t seem to notice the blood, or the pain. Instead, she turned to face Morrigan. ‘You can’t kill him. He’s your family. And you always say blood matters.’
Morrigan’s lips curled. ‘I’m not related to the Were.’
‘You are. Through your sister. I heard.’
Morrigan paused, eyes unfocused as if listening to something and then nodded. ‘Yes. You’re right. They lied to her. It’s a trick.’ Her eyes focused on the girl again. ‘They must have figured out you’re a shapeshifter and you were playing at being Bron’s cat. You must have given yourself away.’
‘No. No Mistress. I didn’t. I promise, they had no idea.’
‘Bluebelle?’ The word left his lips before he could stop it.
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