by C. B. Haight
Cynda worried over him, exclaiming he would get cold, and Jeffery brushed it off, insisting he needed to have free movement. Cade, on the other hand, looked at home in the woodlands of Colorado. He wore a simple leather jacket. The cold temperature was not something that bothered him as much as it bothered humans.
Despite the cold, they had hiked up to this clearing because Jeffery suggested that they not use this kind of magic indoors. He explained it could be volatile, which did nothing to ease Cade’s concern.
Cynda’s feet crunched in the snow as she finished the circle. Inside the circle was a triangle with crystals on each point. Cynda had insisted they would help. In the circle’s center lay a sleeping bag for Collett to lie on. Shadowed trees surrounded them since the evening light had already dissipated a couple hours before.
Cade, Rederrick, and Nate watched stoically as Collett, Jeffery, and Cynda finished the preparations. Cade was sure that Rederrick felt as uncomfortable as he did with this situation. Only a short time ago, Jeffery was working for The Faction in an effort to capture Collett. He had almost killed both of these women by pushing their SUV into the river. Cade fought his way to them, but it had been a close call. Now, in this time of desperation, they were willingly letting him use his magic on those same women.
“Okay, I think we can get started,” Jeffery called. “Cade, we’ll need you over here at this point of the triangle, and Cynda, you stand over there opposite me.”
Cade strode over to take his place, and Collett met him there. Letting out a nervous breath, she held a shiny dagger out to him. He recognized the silver metal right away and arched a brow.
“Jeffery says that it’s not only the blood. It helps if there is sacrifice made, so that’s why it’s silver. You won’t heal right away, making it more meaningful.”
He took the dagger from her, but held on to her hand. He leaned down until their foreheads touched. “It’s not too late.”
“It may be for him,” she said with sad eyes.
“I love you.”
“I love you,” she replied and projected her feelings into him.
Cade closed his eyes and savored the sensations.
“Are you ready, Collett?” Jeffery called.
Collett rose to the tips of her toes and kissed him tenderly, then she pulled back and met Cade’s eyes so he would know her words were truth, “I’m ready.”
Cade reluctantly released her hand, and she moved to the sleeping bag. Cade called out to Rederrick and Nate, “Watch our backs.”
Collett lay down, and Jeffery said a few things to reassure her. She nodded, and out of respect, he looked back to Cade for his final consent. “Once we start, we can’t stop. It’s too risky.”
Cade was slightly impressed that Jeffery met his eyes, for the first time, with confidence while seeking permission to begin. He nodded in reply. Jeffery turned and began gesturing over Collett.
They all watched as he moved his hands carefully. Cade continually found the difference between sorcerers and witches interesting. A witch generally received power passed down through bloodlines and must diligently study and practice to hone those skills. If they didn’t learn, they often lost touch with the magic over time. Witches cast spells with words that are cautiously planned in order to avoid misfired magic with poor word choices. They were also generally herbalists to some degree and used that know-how to amplify their magic.
Sorcerers, on the other hand, could tap directly into the unseen lines of magic, even sometimes by accident. They had a natural affinity for it and needed no words. Instead, a sorcerer would feel for the magic, reach deep within, and then learn gestures to bring it out from its source. An average person could mistake a sorcerer’s movements and gestures for Thai-chi or something like it. Even untrained, they could still tap into the source without realizing it. In fact, many discovered their powers by using accidental gestures coupled with strong desires.
Rarely did sorcerers obtain skills from inheritance or blood lines. Few of the sorcerers he knew in his life could find a link to any relative with similar skills, and it would only happen randomly. That lack of support was the reason many of them strayed to groups like The Faction. These days, in a world where most didn’t believe in magic, sorcerers had no way to find teachers. And unlike witches, their untapped powers didn’t dissipate if they weren’t used. As a result, they usually accepted help anywhere they could find it.
He continued to watch as Collett quit moving, relaxing under Jeffery’s spell. After she was still, Jeffery moved to his point in the triangle. As planned, Cynda would support Jeffery. Cynda needed words to tap the magic within her, so she would use a few. Her main purpose was to add magical energy to Jeffery and strengthen the spell.
Cade was there to give his blood, and he would be Collett’s connection here to anchor her while Jarrett would be her connection there, wherever there was. Cade was also supposed to focus on Collett to see any signs of distress.
Jeffery was the control. His skills of channeling energy and controlling the power would complete the task.
Cynda began first. She started chanting, asking the four elements and the four corners North, South, East, and West, for strength and sight. Jeffery started when she was done with her first chant. As she repeated it, he moved his body in slow, rhythmic motions. To Cade, it seemed like he was moving in time with her words. The wind stirred, and he felt a tingling on his skin. In a hot rush, flames burst up from the salt-outlined circle surrounding them, but they quickly settled down to a light, steady burn.
Rederrick and Nate watched helplessly from outside the flaming ring. The next thing they knew, Collett’s form, still relaxed, lifted from the ground. Cade instinctively started to step forward, but Jeffery guessed his intent and snapped with authority, “Don’t!”
When Cade looked to him, he noted Jeffery’s eyes were no longer brown. Instead, they were pitch black. Even the whites of his eyes were consumed by an eerie, opaque shadow. “Focus on her. Make sure she is calm, but stay there until I tell you,” he said while he continued to move in a rhythmic dance.
Closing his eyes, Cade reached for calm focus. Opening them again, he watched only her, thought of only her. Collett levitated above the earth, but she remained still. Jeffery called to him again, “The blood, Cade. Cut your hand, then go to her.”
Cade lifted the silver dagger to his palm and sliced it, feeling the sting as it carved a line in his skin. He squeezed his hand into a fist to let the blood drip on the ground as he moved to Collett. He looked at Jeffery one more time to make sure. “Yes, now,” Jeffery replied, and Cade gently removed her glove and grabbed Collett’s icy hand with his bleeding one. Suddenly, before he could even take his next breath, he was jolted into her thoughts, and he found himself sitting across from Jarrett.
Though everything seemed blurry and disconnected, Cade realized immediately that Collett was right. Jarrett was not in good shape. His brother was gaunt and pale, and his hair was damp from sweat. He leaned against the wall of an old building with his eyes closed. To anybody else, he would look drunk, but Cade knew better. Alcohol didn’t really work on them. Their metabolism and healing capabilities made it nearly impossible to get drunk.
“Jarrett?” Cade heard Collett say. The sound of her voice echoed strangely, sounding in his mind. He jerked his head and found that he could not see her at all.
“Ah, hell. Not you again,” he heard his brother growl in annoyance, confirming that Jarrett could hear her too. “You’re a little late,” he accused. “They’ve already been here, so thanks anyway.”
She ignored his bitter comments. “Where are you?” she asked softly.
“I wonder if it is normal to dream about your brother’s woman all the time,” he continued, ignoring her in turn. “Wanting what you can’t have and all that, I suppose.” He laughed cynically and winced as a result.
“Please Jarrett, where are you?” she begged patiently.
“I suppose I shouldn’t mind. There are
worse things - I would know. And you are quite a package. Cade can sure pick them. Really though, I wish you’d get out of my head, or at least come dressed in clothes of my choice,” he continued to himself as if she must be part of his imagination. Cade bristled at his words and wanted to slug his brother.
“Jarrett, there’s not much time,” she pleaded urgently.
His head jerked up, body straightened, and his eyes became alert. His reaction was so quick, Cade understood Jarrett must be hearing her dream warnings, and Collett was like an alarm. Her simple words put Jarrett on full alert. Collett must have realized it too, because she responded quickly, “They’re not here yet, but you need help.”
“Yeah? And I suppose you’re gonna help me?” he scoffed but didn’t let his guard down. He continued to peer through the darkness.
“I will,” she answered with sincerity.
Now he did look at her, and there was pure hate reflected in his eyes. “You tried that once, remember? It didn’t turn out so good.” Jarrett shifted, and his facial expression pinched slightly from the pain. Somehow Cade felt Collett wince too. “Go away! You can’t help me. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re not really here. Don’t you have a honeymoon to get to?”
Impatience and annoyance surged through Cade. He started to curse at his brother, but his voice wouldn’t carry any sound here. He realized he was just seeing the whole thing through her point of view. He also noticed everything was getting even more blurry.
“You think that we would abandon you to this fate?” she snapped. “I am almost out of time. Tell me, where are you?” Her words were firm, sounding much like a mother reprimanding her child.
Jarrett shook his head. “He did, and you are the reason I’m in this mess to begin with.” Jarrett began moving away. “Where I am doesn’t matter because, as you can see, I am leaving.”
“Where will you go?” she questioned.
To Cade’s surprise, Jarrett looked over his shoulder and answered quietly, “To her.”
“Who-?” he heard Collett begin, but didn’t hear anything more. He was ripped through a cloudy tunnel and found himself back in the glen in Colorado. His mind disconnected from Collett, and he felt like himself again, except completely exhausted. The flames around them sputtered out, leaving behind a steamy mist rising from the heated, moist earth.
He looked down to where Collett lay and saw she rested on the ground once more. Her eyes were still closed, and her breathing was still slow. Worried, Cade called angrily, “Jeffery, why isn’t she awake?” Turning, he glared at the sorcerer, ready to let blood, but his anger dissipated at the sight of Jeffery.
The sorcerer was bent over on hands and knees. His face lifted at Cade’s question, and even in the meager night’s light, Cade could see the pallor on his face as well as the blood dripping from his nose. Nate moved to help him before he fell over. Cade looked over to check on Cynda and found Rederrick steadying her too, but she didn’t look as weak and drained as Jeffery.
“She still sleeps,” Jeffery forced out between breaths, drawing Cade’s attention back to him, “because,” another breath, “I haven’t cast the spell to wake her.” Even with Nate’s help, Jeffery stumbled as he moved to her. “Give me a minute to gather my strength, and I’ll take care of it.”
“How long will she sleep?” Cade questioned, considering Jeffery’s condition.
“As long as you want.”
He looked at Collett lying peacefully before him. “Let her sleep. She needs the rest, and I’d guess so do you,” Cade told him. “If her dreams get bad again, I’ll have you wake her up.”
Jeffery could only nod in reply, but he felt relief at the respite offered. His head felt as if a madman had cleaved it in half with an ax, and the bones in his legs felt gelatinous.
“Let’s get out of the cold and talk about what happened,” Rederrick said grimly.
Chapter 7
“Will you be like them?” The question from Jarrett’s lost childhood memories echoed in his head as he walked down the dark streets. Her expression, so full of compassion, haunted him from the vision he’d had earlier. Hallucination more likely, he thought.
Until he voiced it to her, Jarrett hadn’t realized where he was going. What better place to finish it then back at the beginning?
He thought back to the night Rowena died and the home he knew—or what had been left of it. He hadn’t been able to stay away. He could still remember the desperate need he felt to return and see. There had even been a part of him that hoped for a miracle, but the fire did its job. It was a home no more, only the charred remnants of one.
There was no miracle - at least not the kind he had hoped for. Very little of the small wooden cabin was left standing, and his life was reduced to blackened ashes of nothingness. Still, he searched for anything he could hold onto from that life.
Shortly after he started, he found an item that made his heart break. The single connection he retained from that night still hung at his neck. Unconsciously, Jarrett fingered the green amulet. Rowena’s amulet. He remembered how she always wore it, and how he found it where she should have been. There was nothing left of her, save the amulet. Seeing it lying there among the charred and blackened ashes sent him into a rage, and he renewed his promise to kill the preacher.
He felt the emotions stir again as his past forced its way through the barriers he’d erected long ago. It annoyed him that images and memories kept popping in and out of his head. They brought back feelings he didn’t want—feelings best left alone. What’s more, he couldn’t figure out how these recent images of his brother’s mysterious wife fit into his complicated life. Who was she to him? Why had she been there? Why the hell did her sympathetic looks and sweet melodic voice have to keep torturing him?
“Will you be like them?” He could still hear the question ring in his ears as if he still stood frozen in that moment in his mind. I am like them, he thought.
Shaking it aside, he forced himself to focus. No longer in his favored home state, Jarrett found himself in a town so small he hadn’t even bothered to note the name. It felt like the middle of nowhere to a man accustomed to The City That Never Sleeps. He reached a dark, seedy building that boasted neon signs promising patrons a variety of beer and other spirits. Wanting to quell the vague memories with a distraction, he decided here was just as good as anywhere else, but he soon found that wasn’t the case.
Entering, he found a dark, dingy room and a small, lifeless circle of men. Mostly empty, it was a far cry from his establishment in downtown New York where a person would hardly be noticed, unless they wanted to be.
This bar was more the kind that catered to regular patrons. The old wooden counter filled one side of the room and was accompanied by several tattered stools lining the front of it. Cheap Christmas garland hung above the liquor bottles, and a small Christmas tree sat next to the cash register. The T.V. was mostly turned down, but it was on and tuned to the local news channel.
Two haggard men sat together about three-fourths of the way down from where Jarrett stood. On the other side of the room, there were several empty tables for patrons who wanted to be together instead of seeking the solitude found when staring at the rows of liquor bottles behind the scarred bar top.
Upon seeing Jarrett enter, the middle-aged barkeeper straightened from where he bent over the counter to visit with two patrons. The three old men stared at Jarrett as if he was the newest novelty in a circus act.
Okay, not just as good as anywhere else, he thought. He wanted to get lost in a crowd somewhere, not stand out like a sore thumb. Here, he would draw too much attention.
“Can I get ya somethin', son?” the graying bartender asked before he could back out.
Figuring he may as well deal with a few important things, Jarrett replied gruffly, “Bathroom?”
The bartender indicated the location, pointing behind where Jarrett stood.
Jarrett nodded tersely and entered the tiny bathroom. It was a small, rundown roo
m for either male or female customers. He flicked the lock, dropped his pack on the floor, and eased off his jacket. He hissed in pain as he gingerly removed it. He carefully lifted his black t-shirt and saw blood was starting to leak through the towel. Removing the towel, he clearly saw that the angry, red, and swollen injury was infected.
His supernatural ability to heal was barely present at this point. Not to mention, the continuous attacks against him kept it from sealing properly. Even if he’d stitched it up, his constant exploits against Faction bounty hunters would have torn it open again as it had several times now. Unless he could get at least a little rest and give the wound proper time to heal, the infection would keep spreading, and he knew it.
Resigned, he set to cleaning and dressing it anyway. Voices from outside stirred his curiosity. His superior hearing allowed him to eavesdrop on the conversation.
“Did ya see that boy? I think the baddest biker in hell just walked into your bar.”
“C’mon Bill.”
“Don’t you, ‘C’mon Bill,’ me. Are you tellin’ me, Jim, that you’re not the least bit worried? He’s got trouble written all over him. Good grief, he’s got to be at least seven feet tall and looks strong enough to tear this place apart. What’s a boy like that doin’ here?”
“Well you’re here, ain’t ya?” the bartender replied.
“Well yeah,” answered a new voice, “but Bill and I ain’t wearin’ all black and walkin’ around like death with sunglasses on to boot. What’cha wear glasses like that at night for anyway? Other than hidin’ your eyes as so people can’t ID ya. If ya ask me, he looked meaner than a rabid dog.”
“Well it’s good that I’m not askin’ then,” snapped Jim. “Cut it out. I’m sure there ain’t nothin’ wrong with him. The man needed a bathroom.”
“I’m just sayin'," Bill said with his hands held up in surrender.
“Yeah, sayin’ you best get your gun ready cuz you’re gonna need it,” the other man mumbled then added, “He's probably in there right now getting his guns out to come out an’ rob ya.”