Visions of Vengeance: A Paranormal Romance (The Gypsy's Curse Book 2)

by Meg Anne

  Skye spun to her right and tried to steady her voice. The two women talking—one with bright blonde hair and the other dark—stared at her curiously. “I’m sorry,” she started, “I couldn’t help overhearing. Did you say that the police found bodies?”

  The blonde woman nodded. “Oh, aye. Horribly killed, too.”

  Her heart pounded, and her palms were slick with sweat. The walls felt like they were closing in around her. “Can you tell me where?”

  “What does it matter where?” the brunette asked, her dark eyes narrowing.

  “I heard about two murders last night, and I was curious if they’re the same ones or if there have been more,” Skye lied smoothly, years of avoiding full truths finally paying off.

  “I hope they are the same ones.” The blonde shook her head sadly. “The first—which they believe happened last night—was discovered just on the outside of town. Found ‘em in a field.”

  “Do you know how many bodies there were?”

  “Yer a strange one, ain't ye?” the blonde woman asked.

  Skye shrugged and gestured for them to continue.

  “The news reported two bodies,” the brunette said.

  Skye’s stomach somersaulted as a wave of nausea rolled through her.

  “They found three more in the library this mornin’,” the blonde said sadly. “Shut down the place pending investigation.”

  “Thank you,” Skye mumbled, pushing to her feet.

  Lizzie, who hadn’t been paying attention, stared at her curiously. “What is it?”

  “We need to go. I’m not feeling well.”

  “She has a weak stomach,” the brunette said beside her with a slight laugh.

  “Agnes, be nice,” the blonde scolded, narrowing her eyes at her friend.

  “Thank you both for the information. Glad to hear it was the same as I’d heard.”

  The two women nodded and fell back into their conversation.

  “Deaths?” Lizzie’s face had paled, and she got to her feet.

  “What’s going on?” James asked as he made his way over, carrying a drink holder with three coffees.

  Skye stared up at him, her stomach twisting into knots. “The Druid is here. He found us.”

  “I dinnae know why yer surprised,” Giles said after Skye finished filling him and Lucas in on what she’d overheard. “I warned ye he’d be comin’ after ye botched the wards.”

  Lucas glared at him. “Thanks for the fucking reminder.”

  “What are we going to do?” Lizzie asked. “We lost any hope of a head start, and he knows exactly where we are. We might as well be sitting ducks.”

  “Not anymore. He’s not the only one with power now,” Lucas told them. “Let him come. I’ll put his ass in the ground like I should have back in Chicago.”

  “You aren’t ready,” Skye insisted. “We should leave until we know what we need to do.”

  Lucas turned to her. “I’m not running, Skye. Not again. We have what we need now. Look.” He held out his hand. “I even healed myself.” He beamed, and she studied his now unmarred palm. “Please don’t give up on me yet.”

  “Regrouping isn’t giving up,” Lizzie said.

  “If we run, he will find us,” James added. “The only option now is to bunker down and fight.”

  Lizzie threw her hands in the air. “You fucking men and your need to prove how big your dicks are. We get it! You’re tough-as-nails detectives, but what about us?” she asked, gesturing to herself and Skye. “We’re hardly detectives, or Druids for that matter, and we already know he wants me dead. Not to mention his obsession with Skye.”

  “He won’t touch either of you. Not again,” Lucas growled. Power swirled in his blue eyes like a snake waiting to strike.

  Skye’s heart jumped. “If you don’t want to run, then what do you suppose we do?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

  “We need to get the study open,” he answered, holding her gaze with an intensity that made her want to take a step backwards. “I want to see what Pop has in there. It’s magically locked, which means whatever’s in there was important enough to keep hidden. I say we find out what the hell it is.”

  Skye stared back at him. The new power in his blood terrified her. She couldn’t help it, after centuries of Druids hunting and destroying Gypsies, a healthy fear of them was burned into her genes. Lucas radiated power now, so much so that she could feel it crackling around him like electricity in the air.

  She had once mentally compared Lucas to a superhero, a man with a cape who could stop any evil he came up against. That comparison was truer now than ever before. Even though she was terrified of what he might be capable of, she would still bet on him every time.

  Even if it meant her own destruction in the end.

  “Then let’s do it,” she said.

  Chapter 23

  Lucas

  Power surged through him. He was super-charged and ready to take on anything. Apparently, when he’d healed his hand, the flow of power hadn’t stopped there. He was completely rejuvenated, like he’d slept for twelve hours then had six cups of coffee.

  His gaze shifted to Skye standing beside him. Last night probably had something to do with the way he was feeling as well.

  “What?” Skye asked warily, catching him staring.

  Lucas grinned. “Just looking forward to more fun later.”

  Her eyes widened, and her cheeks turned pink. “How can you possibly be thinking about that right now?” she whispered, checking to see if the others overhead him.

  He shrugged. “I’m a guy.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Just focus on the task at hand, Detective, and we’ll see about rewarding you later.”

  “Can’t wait.”

  Skye pointed to the book in his hands. “Focus.”

  Giles moved to stand on his left. “The lock will not open for just anyone, lad. You’ll need to amplify the rune.”

  “And, by amplify, you mean what exactly?” Skye asked.

  Lucas sighed. “Blood. He means I need to use my blood.”

  “Good thing you learned how to heal yourself,” Matthews said from behind them.

  Lucas muttered under his breath as he pulled out his pocket knife. “I’m getting real damn tired of sticking myself with this thing. There’s got to be an easier way.”

  Giles shrugged apologetically. “Not that I know of, lad.”

  He flipped through the book, stopping at a page he and Giles found earlier. There were no notations beneath the sketch of the rune, but it appeared to be an unlocking spell. “Hold this open for me, will you?” he asked Skye.

  She nodded and carefully took the book from him.

  He glanced down at the square rune, double-checking the position of the small horizontal line to ensure he put it in the right place. “Here goes nothing,” he murmured, sliding the sharp blade across his newly healed palm.

  Blood welled instantly, and Lucas swallowed his hiss of pain. The way things were going, he would need to get used to living with harming himself on a regular basis. At least until the Druid was no longer a threat.

  He moved quickly, dipping his fingers into the pool of blood and tracing it onto the dark wood door. Without waiting, he pressed his bleeding hand against the rune. “Fosgail.” His voice was deeper than he’d ever heard, rippling with power as though dozens of other voices spoke alongside him.

  Deep blue light flared around his palm and out through the cracks of the door, then the rune faded into the wood.

  “I’m never going to get used to watching you do that,” Lizzie muttered.

  “Did it work?” Matthews asked.

  “Guess we’re about to find out,” Lucas answered, accepting the handkerchief Giles was holding out to him. “Thanks.” He tied the soft fabric around his bleeding hand.

  Reaching for the knob, Lucas looked back at Skye. “Ready?”

  She stared intently at the door as if she was waiting for it to grow fangs and bite her. Pulling
her eyes up, she gave him one solemn nod.

  Lucas opened his mouth to reassure her, but without knowing what they faced, it was hard to find the right words. He gave a curt nod, then turned the knob and pushed. The door swung inward, and Lucas was instantly assaulted by the rotting stench of decay. His eyes began to water, and he brought his arm up to cover his nose and mouth.

  “God, what is that smell?” Lizzie asked behind her hand.

  “Death,” Skye replied, her voice haunted.

  The room was pitch black; not even the afternoon sunlight shone through the windows.

  “Stay out here,” Lucas ordered, trying to find a light switch. After a moment of fumbling, he flicked the switch and the lights flared to life.

  “Yeah, because telling me to stay put always works,” Skye muttered, pushing past him to walk into the room.

  “Skye!” Lucas tried to grab her arm and pull her back, but she was too quick for him.

  She gasped softly as she took in the utter destruction before her.

  Whatever had happened here had not ended well. The furniture was all overturned, as if a tornado had blown through the room. A tornado might have done less damage. Blood was splattered across almost every surface in the room, and there were large black pools of dried blood staining the antique carpet. Runes more complex than any he’d seen had been carved into the walls, and jagged black lines burst from each of them, like bolts of lightning had struck each one.

  In the center of the room, where the largest pool of blood was located, another rune had been drawn on the floor. Lucas walked over to it and knelt down. He wasn’t surprised when Skye did the same.

  From the doorway, Matthews said, “It looks like a fucking murder scene in here.”

  “It was,” Lucas said with absolute conviction. He shifted his weight and pivoted to look back at Giles. “What do you know about this?”

  Giles swallowed, his complexion waxy and pale. He reached out an arm to steady himself against the wall. “Dark, dark magic was performed here.”

  “Against who? Pop?”

  Giles’ bright green eyes met his, and he nodded. “I think that’s a safe assumption.”

  “Did the Druid do this?”

  Something shifted in his eyes, and Giles’ posture changed. He glanced back down at the pools of blood and uttered a barely audible, “Yes.”

  “There are two pools. That means two bodies,” Matthews said, his voice hard. “Who else died here, old man?”

  Giles looked at Matthews and then back at Lucas. “Yer Nan.”

  Lizzie’s hands flew up to cover a gasp. “No,” she moaned. Matthews pulled her into his arms.

  Lucas clenched his jaw as tears flowed down his sister’s face, and a red haze of anger filled his eyes. He swiftly stood and closed the distance between him and Giles. “How do you know that?”

  After an audible gulp, Giles met Lucas’ stare head-on. “Because the magic performed here required a sacrifice. One she willingly made to save ye.”

  “Save me?” Lucas asked. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “She had to protect ye. ‘Twas the only way she knew how. A life for a life.”

  “She died so I could live?” His voice hitched on the question.

  Giles lifted a shoulder. “In a sense.”

  “Answer my question.”

  “She died so that the Druid would be transported to the Wasteland, and so he wouldnae be able to find ye. She gave her life so that the portal would open and take him.”

  Lucas’ ears buzzed, making Giles’ voice sound like he was speaking to him from underwater. “Wait, I thought that you could be transported by touching a spelled rune? What are you talking about, giving her life?”

  Giles sucked in a shaky breath. “Runes are involved when a Druid wants to imprison another Druid. The only way one without magic can send a Druid to the Wasteland is by willingly giving their life. The sacrifice holds its own brand of magic, one selfless enough and strong enough, to activate the rune.”

  He heard Lizzie’s muffled sobs, and Matthews murmured words of comfort.

  Skye hadn’t moved. She hovered with her hand held above the largest pool of blood. She stared at it intently, frozen in place. Lucas wasn’t certain she had even heard Giles’ explanation.

  A bolt of fear ran through him as she began to lower her trembling hand toward the bloody pool.

  “Skye, no!” he roared, lunging toward her just as her shaking hand finally made contact with the symbol on the ground.

  Chapter 24

  Skye

  Lucas roared behind her, but it didn’t matter. She had to do this, had to know. As soon as her hand made contact with the ground, the world swooped and she was thrown upside down. Skye tumbled down, or maybe it was in, to the memories that awaited her.

  “We have to hurry, Maggie. He’ll be here any minute now.”

  A blonde woman in her late forties looked at the man who’d spoken with a scowl. “Dinnae rush me, Giles. We only have one shot.”

  A much younger Giles blinked behind his glasses. He had thick sideburns and a beard, but Skye would have recognized those mossy eyes anywhere.

  Maggie finished drawing the rune on the floor, then pushed up to her feet to walk over to a small black book that lay open on top of the desk. She nodded as she glanced furtively around the room. Runes had been carved into each wall.

  “All we’re missing now is the blood.”

  “You dinnae have to do this, Maggie. We can find another way,” Giles insisted.

  Maggie turned to face him, her shoulder-length hair whipping around her with the movement. “Ye know I do. She told us ‘tis the only way to keep them safe.” Her blue eyes were sad, but determined.

  “She could be wrong. What can a Gypsy possibly know about the Wasteland?”

  “She knew how to open the portal.”

  Giles’ eyes hardened. “Then why are we the ones doin’ it ourselves? She should be here!”

  Maggie frowned. “He’s our monster, Giles. Our problem to solve. Besides, she has her own family. We couldnae ask this of her.”

  Somewhere else in the house a door slammed. “Maggie?” a deep voice called.

  Maggie stiffened, her eyes wide. “Quick, give me the knife,” she whispered, holding her hand out to Giles.

  He fumbled in his pockets, his hands shaking as he held a small silver dagger out to her. Runes were etched along the blade, and they glinted in the soft light of the study.

  She ran her hand along the blade, whispering, “Diana, protect me.” She dragged the tip quickly across her palm. The cut was deep, and blood spurted fast and thick.

  Maggie rushed to the closest wall and slammed her palm into the center of the rune. She did the same for the next three walls, before coming to rest in the center of the room. The dagger clattered to the floor, just as the door swung open.

  “Maggie, what are ye—” Anger rippled from the man that stood in the door.

  “Now!” Maggie screamed.

  Giles lunged forward, another blade wrapped in his shaking hand.

  The man danced out of the way of the blade, rushing into the center of the room.

  Giles slammed the door shut, and the runes on the wall flared to life.

  “You fucking bitch,” the man snarled, his dark eyes glowing with malice. “How dare you betray me.”

  Maggie swallowed and tilted her chin up. “My Oliver would never speak to me that way.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed further, and he leaned down close to the trembling woman. “Well, I never thought my wife would turn against me,” he spat. “It seems we were both wrong.”

  Giles began to chant, distracting the man and forcing him to spin away from Maggie. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Giles stumbled over the words, but didn’t stop. While the man was turned away from her, Maggie dropped to her knees and grasped the fallen dagger. Blood coated her hand and smeared across the blade. The runes glittered like rubies where her bl
ood filled them.

  Maggie swallowed and closed her eyes before crying out in a loud voice, “Accept this humble offering. A life given freely.”

  The man spun, his eyes filling with unholy light. “No!” Wind whipped around the room, knocking over books and causing loose pieces of paper to take to the air.

  Maggie’s eyes softened, and tears began to drip down her cheeks. “I loved you, Oliver. I hope the madness leaves you and we can be together again someday.”

  Oliver lunged toward her, trying to pry the dagger from her hands, but he was too late.

  “Athrú” she shouted, driving the dagger deep into her chest. Her eyes widened, and she sagged, her arms falling to her sides.

  “Maggie!” Giles cried.

  As her blood pooled on the floor, the runes began to shimmer and pulse. The more blood that filled the circle on the ground, the brighter the lights shone. Soon the ground began to glow violet.

  “No!” Oliver screamed, his wife’s blood smeared all over him. But it was not the loss of her life that had enraged him. He tried to lurch up and out of the circle, but he was trapped. He slammed his bloodied fists against an invisible wall, his wife’s limp body at his feet. “You know this will not contain me for long.”

  “Ye’re wrong,” Giles said, shouting to be heard over the wind storm.

  Oliver’s nostrils flared, making him appear more animal than human. “I am the most powerful Druid to ever live.”

  “And in search of that power, ye lost the only thing that truly matters.”

  A shadow shifted in Oliver’s eyes, and it was like the real man peered out for only a second, before the rage returned. “The only thing that matters is power.”

  Giles shook his head, defeated. “Ye do this to yourself.” He notched his arm back and let the blade he’d been holding fly true. It passed through the barrier without issue, and buried itself in Oliver’s chest.

  Oliver roared. As the first drop of his blood fell to the ground, touching the rune, the purple light grew blinding.

  “No! Fool! What have ye done?!” Oliver’s panicked cries grew louder, but they could barely be heard over the roar of the wind.