Conall quickly cut through the trackers in his way. As a young wolf, he’d been more focused on showing off his skill.That was not the case today. He was going after Cronin, and Luna help anyone or anything that got in his way.
***
He could not explain why he was here, or how he’d known to come here, but every cell in Max’s body had led him to this place. He’d simply blocked his thoughts, concentrated on locating his father, and followed what seemed to be a strong but invisible connection, based on flashes of power. It was an essence of sorts, a witch’s essence.
After leaving the vampire’s place, Max had been consumed with anger enough to want his own father dead. Kyros had tried to be the voice of reason. While Kyros had his own reasons for wanting the man dead, the older warlock had given Max all the reasons as to why it would not be wise to confront Maximilian Cronin in his current state. While his powers all seemed to be there, Max still couldn’t remember how to access most of them. Still, Max had only needed one good reason to go after his father. And he had it. The bastard had killed Drew. Even if she’d survived the change to vampire, which he instinctively knew she had, he’d killed her. Taken her from everything she’d known, including him. For that alone, Max wanted blood.
In no uncertain terms, he told Kyros he was going to find his father and kill him. Whether Kyros helped him or not was the warlock’s choice. It had taken Kyros only a few minutes to discern Max would not be persuaded from his course, and after shaking his head, he’d decided to reintroduce Max to his powers as a warlock. It had been the equivalent of a crash course, but everything came to him quickly and easily. Even Kyros seemed a bit surprised at his ease with his powers, especially as he did not remember them.
“I’ve thought it before but now I’m quite sure, Max. Before you lost your memory, you had to have been trained as a tracker,” Kyros said from beside him.
“A tracker?”
“Yes. A member of an elite group of witches who essentially serve as guards and soldiers for their race.”
Max didn’t respond. His eyes were fixed on the chaotic scene happening in the distance. It seemed he’d arrived late to the party. The wolves and witches had squared off, and with his heightened sight and hearing, he could see blood splattered against the green grass, could make out the snarls and growls of the weres, and the blasts of the witches. There was also another presence in the distance, hovering and watching. Vampires. He turned and surveyed the trees. Even with his keen eyesight, he could make out nothing. But they were there. A large number of them, waiting, patiently.
“Vampires,” Kyros acknowledged without bothering to turn around.
Max returned his attention to the melee. It didn’t take long to locate his father. He stood in a circle of men, an invisible but impenetrable force field surrounding them. In the midst of the circle were two barely visible girls, one bound by golden chains and lying on the ground, and the other standing directly before his father. She was chanting. There was also man lying in the middle of the pentagram, a witch wearing sacrificial white. He was unconscious.
Closing his eyes, Max was about to flash himself into the melee, when Kyros touched his shoulder. He looked to the warlock, who shrugged his shoulder and replied, “I’ve saved your life once already. You may need me again.”
If his adrenaline wasn’t working overtime and he wasn’t so angry, Max was sure he would have smiled. Instead, he nodded, closed his eyes once more, and flashed them both into the midst of the fight.
***
Conall snarled his frustration as he bounced off the invisible shield standing between him and his mate. He could see Vivienne, perched on the ground and glaring at Cronin as Cassie chanted above the roar of the grand Wizards’ voices. One of the grand wizards, Wilhem, lay bound as a sacrificial offering before one of the stones.
Pacing the circle, Conall tried to find a weak spot. He found it behind an elderly grand wizard who was growing weaker by the second. Shifting back to his human form, he called upon the magic he’d learned growing up in a Celtic pack, attacking that particular grand wizard enough to gain entry to the circle. His chants overrode those of the witch, and he stopped chanting, opening his section of the force field.
Tasting triumph, Conall shifted and lunged forward, expecting to enter the circle easily. He was blasted back, landing with a sickening thud on his side. Ignoring the pain of the broken rib, he pushed to his feet. The force field was now taller, and wider. Wind swirled around the grand wizards and their captives, making it impossible for Conall to even see them.
I can’t get to them, Conall, Raoul projected.
Conall looked around, searching for some way to get around this new force field. His eyes landed on a tall, fair-haired man in the distance. His arms were at his sides, palms open, his eyes closed. Conall looked back to the force field, and then back to the man. Was he controlling it? He sniffed and froze. A druid. Conall didn’t have time to think on that. Time was flying and he needed to get his mate.
Flattening his ears against his head, he stalked the druid slowly. When he was a good distance away, he broke out into a run, lunging directly for the man’s throat. Pale eyes opened when Conall was only inches away and the druid stepped back. Conall hit him square in the chest, breaking his concentration.
Get them, Raoul!
The druid easily put distance between them, teleporting from under the black wolf and rising gracefully to his feet as sharp yellow eyes focused on him.
“I have no quarrel with you, wolf,” he stated in a calm voice. He held out a hand, as if pacifying a wild animal.
Conall’s response was a deep snarl as he stalked him.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Be of ease, wolf. I do not wish to kill you.”
A loud scream touched both of their ears, and Conall cringed and spun around, his eyes searching out his mate. The force field was down, and Raoul and the rest of the wolves were swarming Cronin and the grand wizards. Cronin now held a helpless Vivienne against him while Cassie screamed.
Son-of-a-bitch!
The druid forgotten, Conall took off in the direction of his mate, halting when saw the blade against Vivienne’s throat. She looked calm, but he knew she must be terrified.
“Call off your dogs, Athelwulf! I have no need for her if I can’t resurrect the druids,” Cronin roared, looking around for Conall.
Do as he says, he projected to his pack. Hopefully the rest of the packs would get the hint and follow his lead.
One by one, the wolves inched backward, but not very far.
“Continue,” Cronin bellowed to Cassandre, who had tears streaming down her face. When she didn’t do as if he commanded immediately, Cronin pressed the blade into Vivienne’s skin. She winced as a thin stream of red began to travel down her neck. Conall snarled as he attacked the force field once more. He barely heard Cronin’s “Now” above the roar of anger in his head.
***
Cassie was caught on the verge of both crying and throwing up, unable to figure out which she wanted to do more. Her mother had disappeared despite arriving just a few moments ago, and Cronin now held a knife to her twin’s throat. She couldn’t lose Vivienne.
She was in the process completing the spell when her eyes landed on him. Alexander. He stepped into the circle, and closed his eyes. The wind around them kicked up once more. He was reigniting the force field to keep them in and everyone else out. Her tears fell even harder. Stupid. She was stupid to have ever trusted him.
The words left her mouth. The chanting of the grand wizards surrounded her. Something from within burst forth, and words she had not learned tumbled from her lips. There was a loud sound, a trembling of sorts, as if the earth were splitting, and she looked up to find a portal opening not inches from her face. What looked like a cloudy, almost smoky place was slowly becoming visible.
Something cold touched her hand and she looked down to find a golden dagger was clutched in her fist. Etched into the handle was a trident.
&
nbsp; You know what to do, Cassie.
Alexander was speaking to her. Confusion made her still before she shook her head vehemently. She would not! How could he expect her to?
Do it, Cassie.
No! It was one thing to recite a spell to save her twin. It was quite another to kill an innocent man, especially a defenseless one who was most likely dying already. Alexander’s eyes opened, and seemed unfocused.
I told you that you would have to trust me.
I will never trust you again.
He moved to her and retrieved the knife from her numb fingers. He leaned down and sliced two identical cuts on the witch’s wrists. They didn’t bleed for a few seconds; then blood began to gush. As soon as the flow hit the pentagram beneath him, the portal began to grow. What was a small inch widened to many inches….
Cassie gasped and stepped away as the witch’s blood ignited the pentagram beneath him. She lifted her eyes to Alexander. How could he do this to someone, especially as it had been done to him before? Or had it? Either way, he was a monster.
Recite the spell.
She shook her head.
Alexander’s eyes flashed lightning for a brief moment before he said aloud, “Recite the spell or I will kill your sister!”
In that moment, Cassandre Bordeaux knew two things. She was a fool and Alexander Petraeus was either bipolar, or had a twin. Hadn’t he promised that no harm would come to her or her family yesterday? And hadn’t she wanted to believe him?
“I will never forget this.” The calmness in her voice surprised even her.
He nodded once. She began the spell once more, closing her eyes, giving her druid leeway to improvise as she saw fit. She didn’t know how long she chanted, but somewhere along the way, the rain began to fall, thunder roared, and lightning bisected the sky. The night fell away briefly in submission to the day, only to succumb once more to the darkness. Cassie chanted through it all, until her voice cracked, and her druid grew silent.
When she next opened her eyes, the portal was massive. It seemed to stretch almost a quarter of a mile, and inside it, she could make out the pale, almost ghostly faces of men, women, children, babies…. They were many, all hovering by the portal, looking expectant, hopeful.
Alexander leaned down and moved the witch away from the pentagram. He was still alive, if barely. Cassie could hear the faint beat of his heart.
Come to me, Cassandre.
Maybe it was the awe of seeing so many faces across an almost-touchable border, but she did as he asked. When they both stood inside the pentagram, he took her hand and held it out. His pale gaze locked onto hers and she briefly wondered if she saw regret in his eyes.
I am sorry.
She didn’t have time contemplate what that meant because the dagger sliced across her wrist quickly. He’d cut her! Before she could pull away or retaliate in any way, he dragged the blade across his own skin, and pressed the wound to hers. As a science buff, Cassie didn’t even want to think of how disgusting that was.
She struggled against him but he was strong.
Be still. This is necessary.
She watched in horror as their blood mingled and then fell in soft droplets onto the grass beneath them. The pentagram ignited once more, this time with a white light that glowed so brightly she had to close her eyes against it.
Behind her lids, what seemed like lightning followed by thunderbolts blasted across the sky. The wind picked up forcefully, and Cassie was glad for his hold on her. The rain pelted them briefly, and then all was silent. Cassie’s heart pounded as she stood close to him. He maintained his grip on her.
“My lord, I have fulfilled my end of the bargain. It is your turn to fulfill yours.”
***
Vivienne pressed her hand to her neck when Cronin released her. It came away red, as she knew it would. Because her powers were bound, her cut would not heal. She turned back to the large portal ahead of her, staring in awe at the sea of people who looked back at them. They had gained color, turning from ghostly apparitions to people of different hues, pale, tanned, darker-skinned…druids. They seemed to be speaking to each other, but she couldn’t hear them. Babies were fussing, but there was no sound. It was almost as if everything stood silent, except Maximilian Cronin.
He had spoken of a bargain, and was now approaching Alexander. The druid did not release Cassie, but turned to face him.
“You have fulfilled most of your end of the bargain, Cronin. While visible, my people have still not been returned to this world.” His voice was cold and clear, and Vivienne looked from him to Cronin. Her mother had told her Alexander was evil, and she’d watched in horror as the man cut Cassandre. The only thing that kept her sane was the knowledge that Cassie would heal quickly once her chains were removed.
“Yes, my lord, but it is fair to say that the druids will be resurrected. I have gathered enough of the grand wizards that it will happen. If you release us of your curse, we will have powers enough to hasten this process for your people.”
Alexander remained still for a few moments and then he released Cassie. As soon as her sister stepped away, the cut healed.
“I always abide by my word, once given.”
Dipping his head, Maximilian replied, “As do I, my lord.”
The druid nodded once, and then he began chanting. It was not Latin, but apparently a mixture of languages he used. Everyone seemed transfixed by the chanting druid as he spoke, until the witches began to struggle. It started with low moans, and turned to deep screams.
Vivienne looked around, trying to see behind the force field Alexander had created.
What was he doing?
Cronin doubled over, and still Alexander chanted. Cassie began to scream at him, and Vivienne noticed that the other grand wizards followed suit, doubling over, some falling to the grass in pain. She didn’t know how long it went on, but the screams around her seemed to last forever.
He stopped his chanting, but still it seemed to echo, until finally, there was silence.
The screams died down to low whimpers, before that too was silenced.
***
The pain had been unbearable, and for a moment, Maximilian wondered if Alexander had found out about his true plan for the druids. When he’d feared he would breathe his last, the pain had given away to…nothing. There was no pain, no aches, no stiff joints….
Slowly, he straightened to his full height, blinking fiercely. Alexander watched him stoically. Maximilian lifted a hand to his face and almost cried. Smooth, satin-soft skin. Lifting his other hand, he stared at them together. It had been a long time since he’d seen supple skin on his body. He was back. His immortality was restored.
Alexander had broken the curse.
“Finish it.”
At the sound of Alexander’s voice, Maximilian lifted his head. The druid looked tired, which he had been counting on. Holding a force field around them, and breaking a curse on an entire race of people, had to have drained him.
Maximilian nodded and looked around at the other grand wizards gathered. Most were touching their faces, staring at each other in awe. Immortality felt good. His eyes turned to Vivienne and he moved across to her, yanking her up, and simultaneously testing the range of his power. Telepathy had been something he’d lost as he aged, because it required a mental strength he did not have. While he had been able to communicate with his son, that had been the reach of his telepathic powers.
Remember, Vivienne. Recite the spell as was practiced or you will never see Evelyn again.
She narrowed her eyes, and he saw the anger sparking there. She’d heard him. He almost chuckled in glee. His full powers seemed restored. And soon he would be invincible.
Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the key for the chains that bound her.
If you so much as blink funnily….
He trailed off, waiting for her to nod. When she did, he slipped the key into the lock, and turned it. The chains fell away instantly, pooling at her feet.
“Go to your sister, Vivienne.” He spoke aloud, looking to Alexander.
Recite the spell you learned. That bit of information was funneled directly into her mind.
***
Alexander could feel himself weakening as Vivienne approached Cassie. It was taking too long. His people should have been resurrected by now, but Cronin had wanted a guarantee that he would break the curse, and he had…in a way. He did not trust the witch, and he would not do so until his people stood on the same grass as he, and he could touch them.
The sisters embraced and Alexander felt a burning begin in the base of his skull. Gods, he was growing weaker by the second. It was one thing to hold a force field for five minutes, but quite another to do so for fifteen, and break curses while simultaneously doing so.
“Do it now.” His voice came out as a deep rasp, and Cassie’s brows lifted briefly as she surveyed him.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe through the pain.
Cassie began chanting once more, and the voices of the grand wizards picked up with her. And then Vivienne added her voice to her twin’s and Alexander’s eyes flew open.
No! That was the wrong spell. That was a destruction spell, and this was a resurrection.
“Stop!” he hissed, opening his eyes, focusing on the druid. She was not needed to resurrect his people, but Cronin had pointed out that having Vivienne aid Cassie would hasten the process. He should have known Cronin would try something like this.
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