by Nancy Holder
Arms encircled Jenn, holding her. It was Skye.
“Come back to Earth,” Skye said, “and receive the blessing of each witch.”
One by one, each member of the circle approached Jenn, paused, held up their left hand, and murmured a blessing on her.
“For strength in battle,” Gordon said, his hand extended.
“For purity of purpose,” said another.
“So she doesn’t get hurt,” Autumn intoned.
“For winning,” Gramma Esther said.
“For the light of forgiveness,” Father Juan said.
Jenn’s face tingled. She still couldn’t forgive her father. Or still wouldn’t.
The blessings took over an hour, and when they were done, the others drifted away to give Jenn time alone with their High Priestess. Exhausted, exhilarated, Jenn gave Skye a hug.
“Thank you so much,” she said.
Skye’s answering smile was troubled. “The coven has given you good weapons, Jenn, but the more open-hearted you are, the more powerful they will be. There are barriers between you and the blessings we want to bestow on you. You have to trust the Goddess. You have to love.”
Anxious, Jenn pulled away slightly. “Isn’t it enough that I’m willing to lay down my life?”
Skye sighed. “No, actually, it’s not. That’s why our way is so difficult.” She cupped Jenn’s cheek. “But it’s worth it. Please, Jenn, try.”
Then Skye raised her left hand above Jenn’s head and said, “So mote it be.”
* * *
More people had arrived. They had told the Salamancans that word of a worldwide attack on humans was spreading, and cells of resistance fighters were trying to talk civilians into battling the vampires. But one word of dissent landed you in a camp.
“And they’re horrible places,” whispered a hollow-eyed man as Father Wadim dressed deep lash marks across his back. He had been freed by some brave teenage prisoners who had orchestrated an escape. “They take the strongest ones for blood, and force the rest of us to work. I had to build more cells. And dig graves.”
Skye tried to put thoughts of death out of her mind as she descended the staircase into the gloomy darkness where she had helped Holgar lock himself up the night before. He had fully recovered from his injuries, but they hadn’t had a real chance to talk. She hadn’t yet been to sleep, and she was still keyed up from the ritual. It had been a perfect night for Drawing Down the Moon, but it also would have been a good night for them to go up against Lucifer, since Holgar would have been in wolf form and at his most powerful and least vulnerable. He was still having trouble shifting at will.
In her vision, though, he had been in human form when fighting Lucifer and his forces.
And in my vision he was killed.
She shuddered, determined to find a way to keep that from happening.
At the bottom of the stairs she pulled a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door. Holgar had told her they had been keeping Antonio in the room for a while before she and Jamie had gotten there. He had figured if it was good enough to hold a vampire, it was good enough to hold him.
She opened the door slowly, not wanting to startle him.
He was sitting up, staring at her. With a rush of relief she saw that he was wearing the sweatpants he’d had on the night before. His shirt was still crumpled up on the floor, and she couldn’t help but stare at his chest and shoulders.
So strong.
“Good morning,” he said.
“It will be if we get to kill Lucifer today,” she drawled.
He smiled at her.
So sexy.
“I’ll be ready in a minute,” he said.
She should leave the room. She’d seen him shirtless dozens of times before, but it had never affected her like this. She could feel her cheeks turning pink as she stared without meaning to.
“Is there something you want to say?” he asked, his grin slowly fading.
So perceptive.
It was now or never. And given the battle ahead of them, never was a very real, very immediate possibility. She couldn’t do that to either of them. She closed the door behind her, not wanting anyone to accidentally disturb them. Taking a deep breath, she walked over and sat down beside him.
She looked deep into his eyes and could feel herself shaking. It was as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice and just knew she was going to fall.
The only question was, would she crash to earth or fly toward the heavens?
“Skye,” he said. He took her hand in his. Warm, comforting. “What is it?”
She cleared her throat and drew a deep breath. “I’ve had a lot of time to think recently.”
“We’ve all had too much time to think,” he said.
“Yeah, but it really helped me work some stuff out.”
He bent his head toward her, totally engrossed in what she was saying. Nervously, she bit her lip.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you, wondering how you were, when we would see each other again,” she said.
“Same here,” Holgar said. “You’re my partner. I was angry that I wasn’t allowed to come and find you.”
“It’s good that you didn’t. You were needed here, from everything I’ve heard. And it gave me a lot of time to just think.”
He brushed a finger against her cheek, and she trembled.
“You can tell me anything,” he assured her.
She swallowed. Why is this so difficult?
He pulled his hand away. “But you can tell me later, if that would be better.”
“No,” she said, panic flooding her. There might not be a later. She dropped her eyes. “Okay,” she murmured. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She looked up at Holgar and realized that he didn’t understand. She could feel her heartbeat speeding up, and she shook her head. His smile began to fade.
“Not as a friend, or as a partner. Holgar, I—I love you, and I want to be with you.”
His smile faded, and his eyes took on a strange look. She could feel herself beginning to panic. He doesn’t feel the same way. That’s okay. At least I told him.
“Like a mate?” he asked.
She almost started laughing. A mate was British slang for a best friend. But that’s not what Holgar was likely referencing. He was a werewolf, and they called their spouses mates.
“Like a mate,” she said, managing not to giggle at the unexpected language barrier.
He still looked confused and a little lost.
“For helvede,” she said, using his favorite curse word. And then she leaned forward and kissed him.
She tasted surprise on his lips for just a moment, and then he wrapped his arms around her and crushed her to him. She would have to do a healing spell on her bruised ribs later, but at the moment she didn’t care. All she cared about was the passion, the yearning, she felt from him.
When at last they broke apart, she whispered again, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said.
And looking into his eyes this time, she knew that they were talking about the same thing.
“So, do we want to give us a shot?” she asked, breathless.
He looked at her, confusion again returning to his eyes. “You love me, ja?”
“Yes, ja,” she said.
He grinned at her. His eyes danced. “Then marry me.”
Her head swam. “What?”
“Marry me, Skye,” he said.
“Isn’t that rushing things?” she squeaked.
“We’ve known each other for more than two years. What is rushed about that? We know everything we can about each other, unless we change the things we can tell each other, show each other. The way mates do.”
“Blimey, Holgar. It’s just—that’s a huge commitment, and we’ve only had one kiss.”
He tilted his head to the side. “It’s our way.”
Werewolves.
She licked her lips. “I’m a witch. We d
o handfasting ceremonies.”
“Is it like marriage?”
“Sort of. Two people promise to stay together as long as love lasts.”
A shadow seemed to pass across Holgar’s face. “Werewolves mate as long as life lasts.”
She felt like she was in free fall. “But isn’t a relationship about compromise? About giving up things for the other person? So . . . we could promise to try?”
He looked at her with so much sorrow in his eyes that it nearly broke her heart.
“What?” she whispered.
“Skye, loving you, being with you, I’d already be giving up so much.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Half of my life, the wolf half, I couldn’t share with you. For a werewolf that is huge. The first ceremony, the first kiss, the first everything happens in wolf form. By choosing to be with you, I already give up half of what a werewolf mate expects from their partner.”
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t think.”
He smiled at her. “I did,” he said. “I’ve thought about this long and hard, even before you went missing. And it would be worth the sacrifice, if that mate were you.”
Skye was nonplussed. “Holgar, you’re asking me to marry you but telling me we can’t have a relationship unless I do?”
“Ja.” He gave her a firm nod. “Mated for life. Would that be so bad?”
His voice was soft, pleading. There was a part of her that responded to it. But she was so young.
But you’ve lived so much, struggled, seen more than most three times your age, a voice whispered inside her.
But forever?
Forever for one of you might be only a matter of hours.
But it went against all her customs, traditions.
As he will be going against his. Because he loves you.
“I have to think about it,” she said.
And Holgar, wonderful, glorious Holgar, just nodded like it was the most natural thing in the world for her to say.
She stood up, heart still hammering in her chest. She turned and fled out of the room, back up the stairs. She needed fresh air. She needed to think.
Maybe it was because she had chosen so badly in the past that she didn’t trust herself to make this decision. But Holgar was different. He was everything she should want in a man, and she did love him. But what if she was wrong? What if there was something deep and dark he was hiding from her?
Not everyone hides things like I do.
Still, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She wished there was someone she could talk to about it. Not Soleil or Lune. They’d be too shocked. And Jenn couldn’t even handle her own guy issues; how could she help Skye with hers?
She turned a corner, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes, and nearly collided with Jenn’s grandmother.
“Skye, are you okay?” Esther asked, her voice kind.
“No, I’m really not.”
* * *
Holgar growled in frustration. That hadn’t gone as he would have liked. It had not been his intention to declare himself for Skye so quickly or so forcefully. She had surprised him with her own admission, and he had pushed too hard.
He finished getting dressed and then headed upstairs. He wanted to find her, but he knew he should give her a little time and space. She was having a problem handling everything that was going on.
“What’s wrong, wolfie?” a familiar, mocking voice asked.
“Not now, Jamie,” Holgar said, his voice a low rumble even to his ears. “Leave me alone.”
“Love to, but the good father has called a meeting. Looks like things are about to start getting lively around here.”
Good. Holgar clenched his fists. He needed to do something while he was giving Skye space. So he followed Jamie through a maze of corridors until they reached a large room, dimly lit.
He had expected to find a large group there, but it was only Jenn, Noah, and Father Juan waiting for them. A minute later Skye showed up, her eyes puffy. He could still smell the salty tears on her cheeks despite the fact that she’d obviously tried to brush them dry.
He whined deep in his throat, unhappy that she was distressed. And she wasn’t the only one. Jenn was also on edge, as was Father Juan. Holgar studied the priest, wondering what was happening.
Father Juan cleared his throat, and they turned to him expectantly.
“Solomon’s followers are landing in the valley. As soon as they’re off the planes, Jenn will meet with him to formulate our battle plan. We have to move fast. Once Lucifer realizes that Solomon is on our side, we’ll lose the element of surprise. I’ve put out the word for everyone to come as quickly as they can.”
“Jenn, Solomon?” Jamie said incredulously.
Jenn smiled grimly. “I’m not an idiot, Jamie. I don’t trust him. If I think he’s double-crossed us, all I have to do is give the word. And some of these new friends of ours will take him out.”
“Earnin’ their keep, then,” Jamie said with satisfaction.
“The Voice of the Resistance, Kent Wallace, has been on the radio night and day sending out coded messages to freedom fighters all over the world,” Father Juan said. “Urging them to action. Letting them know that things here are almost under way. Jenn will check in with Kent, too. As soon as she gives the word, we’ll be moving on Lucifer.” He paused, took a deep breath, and continued. “I’m nearly finished with the elixir.”
Everyone stirred at that. Holgar couldn’t help but think about their fallen pack mate, Eriko, who had been chosen to drink the elixir when they’d graduated from the university. That gift had bestowed upon her super speed and strength, but it had also been a curse. It had torn her body apart before she died. She had suffered agonizing pain because of it.
With their already enhanced abilities, he and Antonio stood the best chance of dealing with the side effects of the elixir. Of course, Antonio might well be dead.
He worried for the others, though, particularly Skye. She could heal herself of injuries, but he didn’t know if she’d be able to stem the tide. Still, it was not his place to choose for her or for any of them. He stepped forward,
“I’ll test it,” Holgar said. After all, they were on a suicide mission anyway.
Skye must have been having similar thoughts, because she flinched as he spoke, fear in her eyes. He would give anything to spare her this pain, this battle, but again, it was not his place.
She had not allowed it to be.
“Bring on the mojo juice,” Jamie said. He wore his two guns like an old-time gunfighter in a movie. Holgar wondered if that meant the gun that could fire wooden bullets was finished. He hoped so, and wished that they each had such a weapon. He could smell the silver bullets in the other one, and he was doing his best not to worry about it.
* * *
At one time Jamie would have been elated to take the elixir. But that seemed so long ago. He was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of losing, tired of being told what to do and when to do it. One way or another, though, things were ending, and he for one was happy for it.
Something was wrong with the good father, though. There was something he wasn’t telling them. Jamie could see it in the dark shadows under his eyes, the pinched corners of his mouth, the look of pain and fear that mingled with something else—relief, maybe?
He wasn’t sure what the trouble was, but he hoped Father Juan pulled it together. Maybe this time he’d even join them on the battlefield. That would be something. In all those years at the academy he’d never once seen Father Juan fight. Jamie wondered if he’d fought during the siege of the university, or if he’d cut and run before the punching started.
Jamie’s hands slipped to his guns, and his nerves were steadied by the feel of them. Left one silver, right one wood. He had heard that some of the local werewolves had thrown in their lot with Holgar. Those wolves had better stay away from him if they knew what was good for them.
He wished for the hundredth time that Eri was th
ere. It wasn’t right that she, out of all of them, had been the one to die. Well, like as not, they’d all be joining her in heaven or wherever the hell Buddhists went. She’d never talked much about that, but he had some vague memory that had something to do with reincarnation.
Better luck this next time round, lass, if that’s the way of it. Least he could do was wipe out the vampires and the werewolves and give her a fighting chance at a good, normal life if it was true. He owed her that.
* * *
“What do we need to do?” Jenn asked, finding her voice. A dose of elixir would give her strength, but she hoped it would be enough for the task at hand. Noah stood beside her, and she couldn’t help but wonder at the strangeness of it. She had thought Antonio would be with her at the end.
What would happen when they were all together on the battlefield?
Would Jamie turn those guns on his teammates?
Would Noah break his promise and try to kill Antonio if they found him?
Would Antonio break all his vows and kill them?
The road had been so very, very long, but one way or another it was ending. Either the vampires would be wiped out, or they would. This hazy nightmare would be over.
Maybe if she survived, she could go back to being just Jenn.
* * *
Noah was ready. He had nothing left to lose. This fight had been coming since the day the Cursed Ones had first made their presence known. He was just grateful he’d been allowed to live to see it, to participate in it.
None of the others in the room knew what had to go into the preparation of the elixir. He knew and had agreed to help Father Juan in the end. They both understood sacrifice, and besides, none of Father Juan’s team would be able to do what was required. So it fell to him, the outsider.
Wasn’t that always the way for his people? Chosen, called, yet always alone, always the outsiders.
If it gave him the strength to do what had to be done, then he would embrace that.
* * *
Father Juan smiled. He never would have children in the normal sense of it, but these, and so many others like them, were his spiritual children. He had done everything he could to prepare them. As always, just as in past trials, past battles, and long-forgotten wars, he worried that it wasn’t enough.