The Dark

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The Dark Page 13

by Cheyenne McCray


  Cassia gave a slow nod. “An infection. There’s an infection among us. I don’t know where it started, or how, or even when, but we need to find the source and deal with it.”

  After several grueling hours at the scene of the battle, Jake headed to the warehouse HQ on the pier along the San Francisco Bay.

  The warehouse actually belonged to a cargo company, but the PSF, with the help of the National Guard, had commandeered it to use as a headquarters during all of this madness. Who knew how long the Alliance would need it.

  Jake glanced at the palm trees that lined the Embarcadero as he neared the warehouse. The trees weren’t native to San Francisco and had been shipped in when the Embarcadero Freeway was torn down and the Embarcadero rebuilt as a boulevard with a wide pedestrian promenade. Businesses and housing had flourished.

  Now—every bit of life in the city had ground to a halt.

  Jake’s stomach growled. He was starving, and needed to sleep like there was no tomorrow.

  And he had to see Cassia.

  When he reached HQ, he parked the unmarked police car he’d borrowed. He slipped in between two of the PSF vehicles that looked like a cross between a tank and a Humvee.

  Multiple SWAT trucks and military vehicles took up whatever space was available along the warehouse that ran down a long pier.

  The smell of brine rolled in with the early evening air off the bay, and Jake’s gut clenched in a knee-jerk reaction. The demons they’d fought since Halloween had smelled like rotten fish. Thank God the Fomorii were history.

  Jake nodded to the two Tuatha D’Danann guards at the entrance to the warehouse before he entered. More D’Danann guards positioned themselves on top of the building, but they kept their wings out so they wouldn’t be seen by human eyes. Unfortunately, their wings didn’t hide them from magical beings.

  Kitchen. He had to get some food. And none of that crap that the D’Danann ate from Dagda’s Cauldron of Plenty. The kinds of foods they served two millennia ago just didn’t have the same appeal as good old twenty-first-century chow.

  When Jake walked through the door to the kitchen, he came to a stop. Cassia stood there, staring at the door. She looked tired and upset. Immediately all he wanted to do was make her feel better.

  God, she was beautiful. All that long blonde hair, full breasts, slim shoulders, a small waist, and hips that flared gently. He remembered, when he had first come to know the D’Anu witches, that Cassia had always dressed to disguise her beauty with bulky clothing, short curls, and somehow she’d made her features look pretty average.

  Even then he’d been attracted to her.

  He met her gorgeous turquoise eyes for a moment before he strode over to her, grabbed her in his arms, and kissed her so hard it made his head spin.

  Cassia matched him with a kiss as hungry as his, their tongues meeting as they explored each other, tasted each other. She smelled so good. Vanilla and spices and woman.

  In a rough movement she pushed him away, her breathing ragged, her gaze filled with desire. Then the desire faded and her eyes now glinted with anger. “How could you do that, Jake? Kiss me. You have a girlfriend.”

  “Not anymore.” Jake slid his fingers into Cassia’s silky hair and she gasped as he cupped the back of her head and drew her closer. “Kat and I had a talk at the square.” He mentally winced at the thought of exactly how that conversation went. “We called it off.”

  Jake brought Cassia to him again for another wild kiss. He settled one hand on her hip as he held her to him. He hardened and she gave a soft moan as he pressed tighter to her belly. He could swear she wove magic around them as powerful as his feelings had grown for her.

  Pots and jars rattled near the stove.

  With her Elvin strength, she jerked completely away again, this time stepping back, out of reach. Her lips were moist, red, desire in her eyes again.

  She held her palm to her chest as if trying to slow her breathing. “This can’t work. You know about the transition, the ascension, and everything else.”

  Jake flinched at the thought of Cassia being with another man and his gut burned. “There’s got to be some way around this. We’ll work it out, Princess. Somehow.”

  He clenched and unclenched his hands. “Get me an audience with the Great Guardian. I’ll talk to her and ask her to help me get you through your transition.”

  “You know there’s no way to change things.” She shook her head. “And I doubt the Guardian would even consider what you’re proposing.”

  Her features were so sad he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and never let her go. “You and me—I wish I could make things different. But there’s too much at stake. Not least of all your life.”

  Jake reached for her. “Whatever it is, I’m up for the job. I’ll do anything I have to.”

  “Would you?” she asked quietly, but not in a manner that said she was genuinely asking him. More that she was pointing out a few facts.

  “Let’s say you survived the transition—would you give up your life here to go to Otherworld forever?” she continued. “With a woman who holds the balance of all the Otherworlds in her hands? To a place where the Light Elves are clearly prejudiced against humans?” She shook her head. “I would never subject you to a life like that.”

  Her words slapped him and he didn’t know what to say.

  The door slammed open behind them and Jake glanced over his shoulder to see Mackenzie and Alyssa walking through with their scrying tools. They looked at Jake and Cassia for a moment before seating themselves at the table.

  “You need to go.” Cassia turned and he watched as she retrieved a small, soft bag from one of the cabinets.

  Clicks came from the bag as she palmed it. The sounds reminded him of times when he was a kid getting out his bag of marbles to play with, and how the marbles had knocked against each other.

  When Cassia faced Jake again, she said, “We—the witches and I—need to scry now.”

  He gave her a hard, long look before he could get himself to leave the kitchen. His chest hurt and his head ached.

  He and Cassia would work this out, although the idea was really crazy.

  She couldn’t leave Otherworld and he wasn’t about to leave his career in the PSF, as well as aiding in rebuilding his city once the Darkwolf nightmare was over.

  He rubbed his short hair in a frustrated movement as he walked through the warehouse.

  It wasn’t until he reached his room that he remembered he hadn’t grabbed anything to eat and had pretty much been kicked out of the kitchen so the witches could scry.

  Food from Dagda’s Cauldron of Plenty wasn’t looking so bad at the moment. A few D’Danann tankards of ale might just dull the pain in his head and his heart.

  For a while.

  13

  It wasn’t long before all of the witches gathered around the table with their scrying tools.

  Cassia lit myrrh incense to aid meditation, and used a lion incense holder. Lions represented caring for those you love, with protection, authority, and ferocity.

  Cassia clenched her bag of rune stones in her fist as she seated herself. Mackenzie brought her tarot cards, and Hannah was ready with her black mirror and salt crystals.

  Silver settled in front of her cauldron filled with consecrated water while Sydney arranged three candles and her silver bowl of consecrated water.

  Alyssa had a slender yellow taper candle and a fox candleholder.

  Someone grabbed a box of matchsticks.

  Cassia was surprised that Alyssa had picked yellow. One of the things it signified was the witch’s waning self-assurance. But it was also good for divination.

  Interesting, too, that she had chosen a fox candleholder, when foxes were known for craftiness, cunning, and charm.

  Copper’s ability was dream-visions, so it depended on the situation whether or not she had dreamed of anything that pertained to what all of the witches were currently scrying about.

  Rhiannon had the ability
to vision the past, future, and present, but she couldn’t always do it on call.

  Weeks ago, her mind had been taken over by the dark goddess. It had been difficult for Rhiannon to readjust after she’d banished the goddess from her essence. Rhiannon had confided only in Cassia about her struggles.

  Automatically, the witches looked to Cassia to set the scrying in motion, as they had turned to her more and more over the past months for guidance.

  But now a few of the witches’ expressions changed—to curiosity on Copper’s part, confusion from Alyssa, and mistrust from Mackenzie.

  The urge to cry caused Cassia to swallow past a huge lump in her throat. These women had been her friends for so long. They had gone through so much together. Why did Cassia’s coming forth with her story make such a difference?

  Because I’ve lied to them all along.

  Pretending that nothing had changed seemed like the best thing to do right now.

  Cassia looked at Sydney, who sat on her right. “Why don’t you start?”

  “Sure.” Sydney took the box of wooden matchsticks, struck one, and began lighting the three fat candles between her and the silver bowl of consecrated water.

  The smell of sulfur immediately met the myrrh scent of the incense. Scents of sandalwood, honeysuckle, and cedar soon mingled with the other smells.

  “I chose brown for grounding and learning more about the here-and-now, and sandalwood-scented for spirituality,” Sydney said as she lit the brown candle, then moved on to the next.

  “Dark blue for augmenting divination and spiritual journeys. Honeysuckle-scented for focus.” When she lit the final candle, her jaw tensed. “Black to aid in determining the truth, and cedar-scented for bravery to do what we have to do.” She looked up. “Find the traitor.”

  Tension immediately thickened around the table like the combined scents swirling together. First, Sydney tipped the brown candle and allowed the brown wax to create a design in the water.

  “A crab. The traitor is misdirecting us. No surprise there,” she added before she dribbled dark blue wax into the bowl. “Raven. Definitely a warning.” Then she muttered, “No kidding,” before picking up the black candle.

  After she spilled its wax into the water she was quiet for a moment. “A chameleon. Our traitor is someone who easily transforms to whatever suits him or her.”

  Alyssa shook her head, looking more than concerned. She had always seemed traumatized every single time they divined, ever since Cassia had known her.

  Copper nodded. “That’s right along the lines of what I’ve been thinking.”

  “Time to move on.” Hannah never minced words. She looked at her dragon-framed black mirror and held up an open vial of large salt crystals. She watched the patterns the crystals made in the air, and then studied the patterns that formed on the mirror.

  Hannah took her time before raising her gaze and meeting Cassia’s. “Whoever it is, it’ll be the last person we expect.”

  Cassia couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable beneath Hannah’s stare. Did the witches think it was her?

  She hadn’t even been around when Darkwolf’s Stormcutter attacks started—although she now commanded power that would allow her to betray the D’Anu easily.

  Only time would prove that Cassia would never betray anyone in the Alliance, especially her Coven sisters—although it still hurt to be suspected in any way.

  Cassia moved her gaze to Alyssa. “Ready?”

  Alyssa nodded. A match made a snapping sound as she sparked it to life and lit the candle. Cassia sniffed the air. Grapefruit-scented? Since when did anyone use grapefruit after the war started? It was primarily used for battling the blues. Apparently Alyssa was having some problems coping.

  As she studied the flame, Alyssa took a deep breath as if drawing the candle scent into her. Her voice shook as she spoke. “Battles. Betrayal. Murder.” She swallowed, her throat visibly working. “Someone very close to us will be murdered.”

  Sydney sucked in her breath. Silver’s and Mackenzie’s eyes widened. Copper’s jaw dropped. Hannah’s expression didn’t change.

  Cassia’s heart had been beating faster as each witch scried, but now it pounded hard enough to hurt. Murder. Someone close to them all.

  Dear Goddess.

  Mackenzie turned her attention to her tarot deck, shuffled, and began laying the cards out in a Celtic cross spread. “I just can’t seem to get a handle on anything with my cards lately.”

  Mackenzie analyzed the spread a few moments longer. “Challenges and opposition, which is a big duh. Movement and communication in that there will be change and the traitor is relaying information somehow to Darkwolf.”

  She looked up with a frustrated expression. “It’s all so vague, other than stating the obvious.” She scowled and gathered up her cards. “This is such bull.”

  Cassia tried not to let her concern over Mackenzie show. She’d never seen the witch act like this before, nor have such problems divining.

  Silver went next. Sometimes her visions would appear in foggy 3-D images above her pewter cauldron, and other times only she could see the divination on the surface of the water itself.

  Cassia was almost fearful what they would see if the images rose above the cauldron—what if they saw the traitor and it was one of the witches?

  It can’t be.

  Cassia’s stomach lurched sideways as Silver pushed her long hair over her shoulders before she stared into the water.

  “Everything’s kind of wavy, unclear.” Silver frowned and tipped her head. “I see two images. Someone kneeling with his or her head bowed—the other person standing and looking down at the kneeling person.”

  She looked up. “I believe the person standing is Darkwolf. I think if I could see the face of the person kneeling, I’d know who the traitor is.”

  Alyssa visibly shuddered and Sydney bit her lower lip. Mackenzie stared at Silver with a blank expression, while Copper looked concerned, and Hannah had tilted her head and had an analytical look to her features.

  Rhiannon’s lips were twisted, and Cassia sensed the Shadows were close to the surface, and that they were waiting to burst free, out of Rhiannon’s control.

  Next Rhiannon took her turn. She had everyone take hands and close their eyes as she closed her own. Cassia kept her lids open just enough to watch Rhiannon.

  Rhiannon’s powerful ability to vision raced through Cassia. She also felt Rhiannon’s Shadows, and for some reason she wanted to cringe from their touch. She had never had that reaction before.

  In a tortured voice, Rhiannon said, “Darkness—and then death. A horrible, horrible death.” A tear rolled down her scarred cheek. “Someone close, very close, is going to die.”

  Cassia’s soul chilled. What if it was one of her Coven sisters? What if it was Jake?

  The thoughts made the chill stab her belly like icicles, cold and sharp.

  “I am so getting the creeps,” Copper said as they dropped hands. “Maybe we’re all just too into this traitor thing.” She leaned her chair back and rocked lightly on its back legs. “Or maybe not.”

  Copper shuttered her eyelids and a sense of darkness hovered over her. “I’ve been dreaming a lot lately of a vulture, meaning a predator is close.” She gazed above them at the skylight, as if she didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes. “We don’t have to look too far to find our traitor. Not far at all.”

  Silence met Copper’s announcement.

  “But who?” Mackenzie finally said, appearing genuinely perplexed. “Someone on the command team? One of the D’Danann, Drow, or PSF officers?”

  When everyone in the room remained quiet, Mackenzie frowned. “I refuse to believe it could be one of us. Not one of our Coven sisters would betray us.”

  “Of course not.” Silver looked horrified. “That’s impossible.”

  All of the witches nodded in agreement as they glanced at each other across the table.

  Cassia said nothing. She wasn’t sure what she felt righ
t then.

  Instead she focused on her rune stones, drawing thirteen from the bag and casting them onto the table in the Elvin way. Elves with the power of divination read the runes that landed face up.

  Six showed their faces.

  Hagalciz. Storms, stress, crisis.

  Nauthiz. Test, ordeal.

  Isa. Stillness, silence.

  Ihwaz. Life and Death.

  Elhaz. Danger. Communication.

  Teiwaz. Victory. Truth.

  Cassia closed her eyes for a moment and let the energy of the runes filter through her. This time the stones almost all gave off negative energy in the patterns they had landed in, and it caused her to shiver. But she had to sort it out.

  She raised her eyelids, looked at the stones again, then to each of her sister witches. “We already know we’re in the middle of a crisis, and the storms are a huge factor. Anu is putting us to a test and she will remain silent until all of this”—she waved her hand to encompass San Francisco—“is over.”

  Her heart ached as she went on. “I’m simply being repetitious in that we already know there’s danger everywhere around us.”

  She lowered her voice. “But it’s more so because of the traitor. The dark goddess stole the lives of many, many people, including members of the Alliance.” She took a deep breath. “But because of the traitor, our inner circle is breached. I, too, see death.”

  Silver braced her elbows on the table in front of her cauldron and buried her face in her palms. Her shoulders jerked and Cassia’s heart broke knowing her Coven sister was crying.

  Hannah looked at the skylights, her face pale. Alyssa stared at her hands in her lap. Mackenzie shook her head, and Sydney bit her lower lip again.

  “How could Anu desert us like this?” Copper looked angry, hurt, sad. An expression mirrored on Rhiannon’s face.

  “It’s not right.” Rhiannon banged her fist on the table, startling Silver into raising her head and everyone into looking at Rhiannon. “She can’t forsake us like this.”

  “It’s a trial.” Cassia swept the stones into the bag, each one weighing the bag down as if it were a concrete brick. “The stones said something else, as well.”

 

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