Prophecy (Soul of the Witch Book 2)

by C. Marie Bowen

  Nichole shook her head. Who are you?

  No answer.

  “He's not alive anymore. He's the demon,” Jason replied sharply “Shoot the bastard.”

  A fireball flew at the circle and extinguished several feet from the ring.

  Amy stood, one hand clutched her sister’s, and the other stretched toward the demon.

  “We have to kill him.” Amy looked at Nichole. “We can't let him live.”

  “What happens if he dies?” Merril gripped Nichole’s shoulders and spun her to face him. “What happens to you?”

  “I don't know,” Nichole replied. “I don't know what the future looks like without him. For me, there won’t be one.” Her gaze locked with Amy’s. “He’s my ancestor—Courtney’s ancestor. My line of descent will disappear when he dies. He’s not dead now because I’m still here.” She looked across the yard. “He’s being controlled by the monster.”

  Another fireball flew at them, but Alyse countered easily. She pushed the fire toward the hillside beside the bunkhouse. The field exploded in flames.

  Bay and Bern sent fire at the demon.

  Morago caught the flares, one in each hand and laughed. “You boys were never as good at playing with fire as your mother was.” He combined the two balls above his head and launched it back at them.

  Amy met it with a jet of water just feet in front of Bernard. The explosion knocked him backward into Sam and Catherine.

  “Merril?” Jim said. His rifle still sighted between the demon's eyes. “I need to know.”

  “When he goes down, I’ll go down.” Nichole looked from Merril to Jim. “But you have no choice.”

  Snarling growls turned Merril’s head. “Wolves. Behind us.” He released Nichole, dropped to his knee and lifted his rifle in one movement. Then he took aim.

  A golden flash of light swooped down from above and sped past Merril. From the flicker of light leapt a large black wolf. It landed near the side of the house, between the warded circle and the wolves, and charged into the threatening pack of grays. With its hackles raised, the black wolf was twice the size of the other wolves. It seized the first gray by the head and tossed it aside, and then snarled and jumped at another.

  “Your wolves are here,” Jim said to Alyse.

  Nichole turned at Jim’s words. A second black wolf chased a pack of grays along the other side of the house toward the road. The grays’ shadowed riders sprang from their backs and arched toward Hunter’s body. Nichole followed the shadows flight, then faced the man in the yard.

  Laughter erupted from the demon, and a low rumbling began beneath their feet.

  “Our pets are playing. How nice.” Hunter laughed and raised his bloody palms toward the circle. Fist-sized rocks burst from the ground and flew toward them.

  Amy raised one hand and half the rocks burst into dust.

  The other rocks were blown to the side by Bayard and Alyse.

  Bernard launched flaming arcs toward the demon from his kneeling position, but he laughed and stepped closer, juggling flames back faster than Bernard could counter.

  Amy blocked the fireball coursing toward her uncle and sank to her knees.

  Nichole backed up until she bumped against Merril’s chest. “Take him out,” Nichole ordered Jim.

  “Not in the head,” Amy yelled and glanced up at Jim. “In the chest.”

  Jim nodded, dropped his line of sight, and fired.

  A small hole appeared in Hunter’s vest. The demon laughter ended in a cough of blood. He fell to his knees and collapsed onto his face in the dirt.

  Chapter 35

  Morago

  How?

  Morago reeled in confusion inside the dead man.

  How did this happen?

  Demons howled, and a woman’s brash laughter added to his disorientation. Deprived of choice, Morago slithered from the body and raised his head to look back at the witches.

  A fireball soared across the yard toward him and he retreated in terror. Fire scorched along his delicate scaled skin, blistering his hide. He slithered blindly across the prairie, afraid the witches and the gunman would pursue him. His vulnerability enraged him, blinded him to his surroundings.

  I must escape.

  Pain raked his body anew as a hawk’s talons tore into his skin.

  The demon changed to vapor just as the bird tried to rend him with her beak. Morago released the empty snakeskin and lifted into the sky, turning away from the powerful elemental magic he continued to covet.

  Full of hubris after the easy victory with the old woman, he hadn't anticipated the witches’ allies or their weapons. But they had not defeated him, only driven him away. For that single mistake, he swore to make them pay. He vowed to learn more about the era he now inhabited. He would study this age and discover allies of his own. A plan took shape in his mind.

  He shrieked loudly in triumph and tipped his wings to head west.

  Next time, there would be no defeat.

  Next time, he would obtain all he desired.

  Chapter 36

  Amy Harris

  Merril caught Nichole as she collapsed and eased her to the ground. He pushed the golden curls from her face and searched for a pulse. “I can’t keep doing this.” He shook his head and looked at Amy. “I can’t.”

  Amy crawled to Merril and put her hand on Nichole’s forehead and quickly scanned her for wounds.

  No injury to her body.

  Bayard helped his brother to his feet and they both stared at Nichole.

  “What happened?” Jason demanded and dropped to his knees beside his wife. “Why did Nichole fall?” He looked from Merril to Amy. “Can you heal her?”

  Amy's gaze turned to Alyse. “No, but we can heal Hunter.”

  Bernard’s face twisted as he looked at Amy. “Have you lost your mind?

  “We shouldn't step out of the ward yet,” Bayard replied. “We don't know if the demon’s gone.”

  Amy watched the yard for a moment. “Set the prairie on fire if you must, but we need that man inside this circle immediately. Every second counts.”

  Bernard gave her a hard stare then stepped across the ward and hurried to the fallen man.

  Bay followed, and together they lifted the larger man's dead weight and carried him into the circle, careful to step over the salt boundary.

  Cat remained motionless where she had fallen. Both hands over her mouth, her eyes bled tears. Her gaze never wavered from Hunter.

  Sam stood beside her. He reset his hat and shook his head. “Damn.”

  As soon as they placed the body on the ground, Amy and Alyse were beside him. Amy put her hands on his back and looked up at her uncles.

  “Turn him to his side.” She raised her hand over the body and a golden glow radiated from her palms.

  Bay and Bern shifted the body, and Amy put her hands to either side of Hunter’s chest.

  Alyse mirrored Amy, placing her palms on the back of Amy’s hands. The gold and orange glow wove together, as the group looked on in silence.

  * * *

  Courtney Veau

  Courtney stood with one foot in The Passage. Half of her ethereal form lay trapped beyond the blackened doorway. Unable to move, she raised her gaze and searched along the hall.

  Several doorways ahead stood the incorporeal form of Alexander Veau. He turned his head slowly toward the light.

  “Hunter, stop,” Courtney called.

  Hunter’s spirit turned and looked at her. “Cat?” He glanced over his shoulder at the light again, then back toward Courtney.

  “Don't go down the hallway, Hunter. Stay with me.”

  He shook his head, stared hard at her for a moment, and then turned back toward the light.

  “Alexander Veau, look at me,” Courtney demanded.

  The spirit turned toward her. “How do you know that name?”

  “Catherine needs you. I need you. Stay with me, please, for just a few moments.”

  Courtney could feel herself begin to fade
. With each passing moment, the reality of her existence became less and less certain. If Alexander left and walked into the light, she would disappear.

  She would never have existed.

  Hunter hesitated, one hand rose toward Courtney. “You’re so like Catherine,” he murmured.

  “I'm like you too, Alexander. It’s how I’m here.” She felt her existence evaporate. “Cat needs you, Hunter. Wait here, beside the doorway.” The hallway dissolved before her eyes. “You need to wait,” she whispered. “Give them time.”

  * * *

  Amy Harris

  “Do you see it?” Amy thought to Alyse, her eyes closed, her head tipped back.

  “I see it.” Alyse wove her fire magic through Amy’s earth-sight and cauterized the tear in Hunter’s lung. The bullet had passed through his chest, missing his heart by a fraction of an inch. The metal tore the large vessel that led to his lungs. “You need to align the tear. Push the torn edge closer to the vessel.”

  “How?” Amy floundered for a moment, then understood. Earth-magic allowed her to move the vessel. When the edges aligned, she felt Alyse press through her and closed the tear.

  “He needs fluids.” Alyse mended the skin, front and back. “His blood’s too thick.”

  “Can I do that?” Alyse sensed the water in the trough and the keg.

  Either will do.

  Amy absorbed the water into herself, then directed it through her magic into his bloodstream.

  “That’s good.” Alyse thought to her. “I’m going to clear his lungs and spark his heart.”

  A spray of blood shot from Hunter’s mouth and nose.

  Cat’s gasp of shock was cut short.

  “What’s wrong?” Amy wondered to Alyse.

  “I don’t know. I’ll try again.” Alyse pressed air into Hunter’s lungs and sending a spark into his heart.

  Hunter curled his knees to his chest and coughed more blood from his lungs.

  Amy released her bond with Hunter and opened her eyes. She watched Alyse open hers, and the twins stared at each other. Her mirror image smiled, and Amy smiled back.

  “Amy?” Merril called. He looked at the sisters, then back at Nichole. “Nicki, wake up.”

  Amy moved beside Nichole and ran her hand over her forehead. “Nichole?”

  Nichole’s eyes opened, and her brow furrowed. She looked from Merril to Amy, then back at Merril. “What—” Her body convulsed, her head fell back, and her eyelids fluttered closed.

  “Nicki?” Merril lifted her into his lap “Damn it, Nic.” He looked at Amy. “What happened? Why isn’t she awake?” Merril’s glare cut to Hunter. “He’s awake.”

  Amy took Nichole’s face between her palms. “Nicki.” Amy patted Nichole’s cheek then looked back at Hunter.

  Hunter struggled to his hands and knees. His head down, his dark hair hung in the dust.

  Around the circle, everyone stepped back, except for Cat. Sam held her when she tried to reach for Hunter.

  “Cat,” Amy called. “Hunter needs water, badly. We couldn’t heal him completely.” Amy looked from Cat to Sam. “Please, he needs our help. They both do.”

  Cat shrugged off Sam’s hand, pushed herself to her feet and lurched toward the keg of water. She filled a tin cup and hurried to Hunter’s side. She sank to her knees and pushed the hair back from his face. “Hunter? Alexander? Can you drink?”

  Hunter turned over and sat, dark hair clung to his face, his lips cracked and bloody. “Petit chat?” he rasped and raised a hand toward her. “I saw you.”

  “You need to drink.” Cat shuffled forward on her knees, placed the cup in Hunter’s hand and guided it to his lips.

  Hunter took a sip, coughed, then took another sip. “I died.” He tore his gaze away from Cat and looked around the circle of faces. He stopped at Jim. “I saw you fire your rifle at me. I knew you would. You had to.” He rocked forward and groaned in pain. After a moment, he turned his head and looked Cat. “How am I alive?”

  Cat pointed to Amy and Alyse. “They’re witches. They healed you.”

  Hunter looked from Amy and Alyse and his brows raised. “Yes, that’s right. The witches.” He switched his gaze to Bayard and Bernard. “And you’re witches, as well.”

  The brothers nodded.

  Hunter coughed and shook his head. “The demon didn’t know the gun would kill me.” He drained the cup and returned it to Cat. “Merci.” He looked up at the witches. “But he knows now.” He raised a hand to Sam. “Help me stand, mon ami.”

  Sam took his hand, pulled him up and steadied him. “Are you all right?”

  Hunter nodded and pushed the rest of the hair out of his face. “I think so.” Then he shook his head and bent, hands to his knees. “I don’t know.”

  ***

  Nichole Harris-Shilo

  Nichole struggled to regain her mind and body from the dark nothingness surrounding her. She'd watched the passage of light disappear as she'd faded from existence. What had brought her back? Alexander.

  “Amy—do something!”

  She latched onto Merril's frantic voice and fought her way forward. The rumble of his chest against her head filled Nichole with joyful motivation.

  My love.

  She drew a shuddering breath and blinked. “Holy shit,” she muttered as Amy's worried expression came into focus, inches from her face.

  Amy sat back and scrubbed her hands across her eyes, then smiled at Jason. “She’s back.”

  Merril tightened his grip on Nichole. “I'm damned tired of you dying.” He kissed the top of her head and pressed her curls close to his chest with a sigh of relief.

  When his hold eased, Nichole turned and found both Jason and Amy remained on the ground beside her. She smiled at her cousin's dust-covered face and put her hand out toward Amy. “You did it.” Nichole included Alyse in her gaze. “Thank you.”

  Nichole turned and laid her palm against Merril cheek. “I’m sorry that happened.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.” He kissed her hand. “Are you well?”

  She searched his eyes and caressed the stubble on his chin. “Yes, my love, I am.” She touched her lips to his, then pushed upright. “Help me stand.”

  Merril rose and lifted Nichole to her feet.

  She dusted her skirt and looked at Bay and Bern. “The demon’s not gone.” Nichole’s words caught everyone's attention. “He's still out there.”

  “What do you mean?” Bernard questioned. “We defeated him.”

  “No,” Nichole pointed southeast. “He went that way.”

  “She's right,” Hunter touched his lip and looked at the blood on his finger. “The demon won’t give up. He calls himself Morago... and he’s learning.” Hunter stared at Amy and Alyse. “He'll be back for you. He craves your abilities.”

  Hunter turned to Cat and opened his arms, catching her as she rushed into them. “Mon Dieu. Ma belle Cat. Mon amour.” He held her head to his shoulder as she sobbed. “Shh. Tout va bien. Shh.” His gaze lifted, and he stared at Nichole.

  Nichole met and held his regard. Do you know me, Alexander?

  Hunter tipped his head to Nichole. The intensity of his dark eyes burned into hers before they closed, and he buried his face in Cat’s hair.

  “Well, then, what are we going to do?” Bayard asked. “He could have our mother.”

  “He does,” Hunter confirmed, and everyone looked to him. “I could sense her—hear her. He controls a horde of demons that do his bidding. Your mother’s soul is a prisoner among them.”

  “Ah, no.” Bayard turned away. He lifted his hat and held his wrist to his head. “No.”

  Nichole wrapped her arms around Merril, her head against his muscular chest.

  It’s not over.

  “Your bunkhouse is on fire,” Jason stated calmly.

  Alyse squawked in alarm and clenched her fist, smothering the flames.

  Hunter kissed Cat’s head and whispered in her hair.

  Cat nodded and helped Hunter walk out
of the circle and ease himself to the wooden planks of the porch. Cat refilled the cup with water and returned to Hunter. He took the tin from her hands, set it beside him, then reached for Cat. He wrapped his arm around her as she settled beside him on the porch.

  “Is it safe to leave the ring?” Jason asked Hunter.

  “Yes.” Hunter reached for the cup beside him and took a sip of water. “Morago will need time to plan before he returns. He was—unprepared for defeat.”

  “We can't leave Mum with him.” Bayard pressed his lips together and stared at Hunter. “What are we going to do?”

  Jim stepped forward. “First thing will be to head back to The Highlands. They need to know it’s over—for now.” He looked down at Alyse and took her hand. “I don't know about demons, but I know about getting beat in a fight. You don't come back for a second go until you think you have a chance at winning.” He tipped his head in the direction Nichole had pointed. “He's running scared for now.” He gave Alyse a reassuring smile. “We have time to make plans of our own.”

  Nichole took Merril's hand and led him over to the porch. She settled beside Hunter on the wooden planks. “Do you know—” She cleared her throat, looked into his dark blue eyes and held out her hand. “Hi. My name is Nichole.” She glanced at Merril as he sat beside her. “This is my husband, Merril Shilo.”

  Hunter nodded and took her hand. “Bonjour, Nichole. Merril.” Hunter nodded to Merril. “My name is Hunter.”

  “Yeah.” Nichole felt a foolish grin spread across her face, and her heart rate doubled as he squeezed her fingers. She looked from their joined hands to his battered face. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” She glanced at Cat, and the memory of an aged postcard addressed to Alexander Veau crossed her mind. “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Hunter’s eyes narrowed as he gazed at Nichole. “Perhaps ... we’ve met?”

  “Yes.” Nichole took a breath and nodded. “Perhaps we have.”

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