The Wild (Book Four The Hayle Coven Novels)

by Patti Larsen

Alison dimpled at me. “Yeah, right.” She giggled a little. “Sure.” She twisted around and shoved aside two pillows, digging between her mattress and headboard for a moment. When she turned to face me, she had a bottle of vodka in her hand.

  “Thirsty?” She didn’t bother to wait for my answer, just unscrewed the top and helped herself right from the bottle. It wasn’t exactly full, either, only about half its contents sloshing around inside.

  “No thanks.” Okay, now I worried about her, too. Alison was hiding alcohol in her room? “I thought maybe you’d had enough last night.” I hated judging her, but really, when she kept a bottle so she could drink when she was alone… bad sign.

  Alison rolled her eyes. “I’m just having some fun, Syd. Lighten up.”

  I was pretty sure Mrs. Morgan was an alcoholic and hoped Alison wasn’t heading down the same road. But she was right about one thing, even if she just implied it. It wasn’t any of my business.

  It didn’t take long before her cheeks flushed and she started giggling. “So, Regan was a total jerk last night?”

  I shrugged, hugging a pillow, not really wanting to think about the fear I felt. “It was fine,” I said. “He was just really drunk.” Not that she’d get the hint or anything.

  Nope. She didn’t.

  “Not all guys are jerks.” She sighed and took another swig. “Like Quaid. I bet he’s so sweet once you get to know him.”

  I choked on a breath and wished she hadn’t gone there. I’d almost forgotten she was interested in him. Damn.

  “I guess.” Now what?

  “Yeah,” Alison said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “with that voice of his, yum. I love how it sounds, you know? So deep and rough. And his hands… have you looked at his hands? He has the best hands.” She was definitely getting tipsy if not drunk. “His eyes!” She shot up straight, hugging the bottle like it was a teddy bear. “I could drown in them, you know?”

  I did know. Had very personal experience with it, as a matter of fact. The timing was terrible, but maybe I should tell her after all. The last thing Alison needed in her life was another let down.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I know.” Her blue eyes locked on mine.

  “You do?” She slumped, bottle dropping, mouth open. “Wow, I thought you guys hated each other.”

  I shook my head. “Not exactly.” I squirmed, uncomfortable with the look she gave me. Like awareness spreading through the haze of her mind.

  “I told you I liked him.” Alison’s lips tightened into a scowl. “You knew.”

  I really didn’t want to have this conversation with her. I could tell where it was going and how awful it was about to get. I started to get up as I said, “I’m going to go to bed,” but she grabbed me so hard her nails dug into my skin.

  “Don’t you dare steal my boyfriend.” Yup, she was drunk. I tried to pry her fingers from my wrist as she went on. “You’re my best friend.” She downed another gulp of vodka, the bottle now pretty much empty. She swung it toward me as she talked, gesturing with it, forcing me to dodge back so it didn’t hit me in the face. “Best friends don’t steal each other’s boyfriends.”

  “He’s not your boyfriend.” My anger rose without my consent. I struggled to control it as the storm outside intensified and rattled the window with another clap of thunder. “Let me go.”

  Alison jerked me closer instead. “Don’t touch him,” she snarled like an animal, hate in her eyes, so much it felt like a slap across the face.

  I pulled free, the strength of my exit yanking her forward so she sprawled on her face into the pile of pillows.

  “You might want to sober up,” I snapped. “Then we’ll talk about it.”

  She called me some pretty awful names as I turned and left, pulling her door closed behind me. I leaned my back against it and sighed.

  She was way more messed up than I ever knew and I wasn’t sure if I could handle it.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Three

  The storm raged over the house again that night, but way worse than the previous. I tried so hard to sleep, wiped out emotionally and physically. I know I slid in and out because there were moments of utter terror when nightmares of being sucked into a vortex of spinning green fire and others of riding inside a swirling mass of fury punctuated my memories.

  ***

  I lie on my bed, the gossamer curtains eddying in a slight breeze. The scents of lilac and jasmine reach me, rich earth and fresh grass, the warm air and mixed aromas making me drowsy in the lovely darkness.

  Someone approaches but I do not fear him. I have awaited his coming for so very long. As he reaches me, he bends slowly forward, the shining locks of his golden hair falling over my face, glowing blue eyes full of love for me.

  I embrace him, drawing him down to lie beside me as his lips find mine…

  ***

  I’m not exactly sure what woke me, but I found myself wide eyed, staring up into the quiet dark of the bedroom while a man wreathed in shadows hovered over me. Before I could scream or try to escape, he vanished.

  ***

  This time when I jerked awake, I sat up, panting and gripping my chest as my heart beat out of control. I was alone. No shadow, no inhuman blonde bending over me. The digital beside my bed read 2:16. The rain had stopped at last, only brief flickers of lightning and soft echoes of thunder remaining. My family succeeded yet again. But there were no guarantees they would do so again.

  I knew the Wild was almost completely awake and when the riders did rise, it would be all over. If the force of the storm was any indication of the growing power of the Wild, Mom and the coven were about to be crushed into the ground.

  I had to get home. This was ridiculous. Mom had to know by now there was no way she and the coven could stand against the elemental magic. Why was she being so stubborn when we all knew being outside the initial touch down site wouldn’t matter if the coven was destroyed? There would be nowhere to hide.

  I rolled over onto my back. I’d try calling again in the morning. I had to get out of here. I was so wrapped up in trying to form an excuse to leave early, I almost missed the subtle touch of something I recognized.

  It slid through the edge of the protection spell and triggered a spark. A soft green spark. I jerked out of bed and ran to the window. There was only one person I knew outside my mother who had energy like that.

  A giant black dog stood in the middle of the garden looking up at me, red eyes glowing in the dark.

  “Jared,” I whispered. I spun and ran out of my room, down the back stairs and to the garden doors. I fumbled with the lock, finally managing to wrench it open before running out into the early morning. My feet splashed through puddles left behind by the storm, the legs of my pj’s soaked almost instantly, but I ignored that. It didn’t matter, nothing did.

  Jared was here.

  I skidded to a halt in front of the pony-sized black dog, a tingle of fear breaking through my excitement. He was one of the hounds of the Wild, after all. And I just ran out to greet him. But he was also Jared Runnel, former member of my coven, and Galleytrot, who owed my mother a huge debt for saving his life from the Moromonds.

  “Syd.” His voice had a rough wildness to it, and always felt like it pulled me with a subtle passion, fed by ancient elements and very old magic. It wrapped me up in a feeling so familiar the fear went away immediately.

  “Hi, Jared.” I hugged him impulsively, drawing in a breath full of his scent, all fresh air and trees and deep, warm earth.

  His tongue swiped my cheek. “Thank you,” he said, the fullness of his gratitude fed by his magic. I understood that gratitude. He’d almost killed us all, siding with Quaid’s adopted parents. But I was so happy to see him, none of that mattered. In the end, he was on our side.

  I hugged him again. “You’re welcome.”

  He sighed deeply, the warmth of his breath stirring my hair. “I don’t have much time.”

  I pulled away, blushing. “Of course. Sorry.
”

  His great head shook, shaggy fur glossy in the moonlight peeking out from behind the dissipating clouds. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “But you feel different.”

  I didn’t have time to tell him the whole story. “I know.”

  He bobbed his head in understanding. “And yet, you feel familiar now. Like you are a part of me.” He snuffled my hair before sighing. “Nor do we have time for this.”

  The dream came to me in a surge of understanding. “Shaylee,” I whispered.

  Galleytrot released a startled yip. “Where did you hear that name?”

  “You’ve heard it before?” Why was I dreaming about Sidhe? For of course, silly Syd, that was exactly who Shaylee and Gwynn and even Cydia were, the fair folk. But what did they have to do with me?

  “Tell me.” His grumbling voice almost sounded threatening. So I told him everything, about the dreams, Pain, all of it.

  When I was done, he shifted his weight away from me, a great sigh escaping him.

  “For my lord’s sake,” he said, though it was clear he wasn’t talking to me, “please let it not be so.”

  “What?” I grabbed a double hand full of his fur and shook him, though I barely budged his great weight. “Tell me.”

  He shook his head, black mane shimmering.

  “There is nothing to tell.” Galleytrot’s glowing eyes looked very sad. “An old story, long gone. And it needs to stay that way, Sydlynn. But no matter the reason for your connection, I’ve come with a warning.”

  Right. He wasn’t here for me, not really. “The Wild?” It had to be the reason.

  The glow in his eyes intensified. “I have been unable to reach your mother. She is shielding us out, keeping me away. I’m grateful you’re outside her walls.”

  Okay, so her sending me away served something. Good to know. Still, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to like what he had to say.

  “Lay it on me,” I said.

  “The riders are almost completely awake now,” he said, images filling my mind as he spoke. I didn’t have time to wonder how he reached me when no one else could. A great swirling darkness filled my senses, studded with more lightning and thunder, the growl and howl of more black dogs, the squeals of furious horses. And beneath it, echoing through my bones, the hum of the riders.

  How was I connected to them that it affected me so much?

  Galleytrot went on as if unaware of the stirring in my heart. “Someone has been using demon power in experiments and it hastens the waking.”

  My heart leapt. Had to be Demitrius and my demon. Had to be. “Any idea where I could find the source?” If Galleytrot could lead me to her…

  But he shook his shaggy head again. “I only know the power is interfering with what your mother is trying to do. Had she been allowed to continue unmolested, I think the unbelievable could have happened.” His voice seemed awed beyond the layers of magic. “I really believe Miriam could have put them back to rest.”

  Damn it. So this was all my fault again. Nice.

  I saw an opportunity, however. “Do you think you could find the source? If you looked?”

  He hesitated. “I wish I could help you,” he said, “but I have already done more than I should have. When the Wild wakes tonight, I will no longer be permitted any contact outside of my role as slave and destroyer.”

  I hugged him again, feeling the warmth of him and the regret. I wished I could just stay like that forever. But I finally pulled away.

  “Thanks for letting me know.”

  Jared stood up and shook himself. “I wish you and your family well, Sydlynn Hayle. The world ends tonight.”

  He flickered and vanished.

  Chilling departure. Still. If I could get to my demon in time, maybe Mom would be able to shut down the Wild before his prediction came true. I stood there for a long time, one desperate plan spinning through my head after another, but every single one was tossed aside with a groan of anxiety.

  I finally spun to head back inside and call everyone I knew for a ride home. I had to go back. Mom had to know about Galleytrot’s warning and make retrieving my demon our first priority.

  I was reaching for the glass door when someone grabbed me and spun me around. Shocked and speechless, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  Pain stared back at me.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Four

  I almost took a half step back out of pure instinct. She looked like warmed over crap the hospital chewed up and spit out again. Though I figured from her appearance she hadn’t left treatment with permission.

  “Pain.” My first reaction faded quickly as I took in the dirty robe and the slippers on her feet, same industrial hospital issue. Her hair was a tangled mass held back by a large elastic, bits and pieces clinging in greasy strands to her cheeks and forehead. The skin around her eyes had that bruised look of the truly ill and she swayed where she stood, mouth slightly open, eyes wide and staring like she’d forgotten where she was and why she was there.

  I looked around for Cydia’s spirit but for now it was just Pain and me.

  “Syd.” She gulped once, voice cracking and hoarse. “Syd. It’s you.”

  “Yeah, Pain, it’s me.” I reached for her hand, but she cried out softly, jerking herself out of my range like the least touch would hurt her.

  “Found you.” One of her knees let go and she dipped on a wonky angle before she caught herself again. What the hell had they done to her? She looked way worse than when I saw her at the hospital. The bigger question was how did she get here?

  “Come inside.” I gestured toward the glass doors. “We can call your mom.” And mine. Enough was enough.

  She shook her head so violently I worried she’d collapse from the motion. “Not going back there.” Her voice slowly rose as each word emerged until she was practically shouting. It was smothered by a roll of thunder. I glanced up and over her shoulder. Storm coming.

  It seemed to trigger something inside her, a lucidity she’d been missing. “You have to tell me.” She panted as if she’d just run a sprinting race, suddenly gasping for air. “You have to, Syd. I need to know what’s happening to me.” Tears gushed from her eyes in a flood that quickly wet her face, fat drops falling from her quivering chin. “I know you’re part of it. I know it.”

  The storm moved fast, clouds rushing toward us. Within moments we were under the weight of them. I physically felt the drop in pressure, cranked my jaw when my ears popped.

  “It’s going to be okay.” How could I tell her that when I knew it wasn’t? “Just come inside.”

  She backed off again, this time out of reach. “Tell me. Tell me! TELL ME!”

  More thunder. Without it to smother Pain’s screams, I knew even drunk Alison would be up. “You showed me once.” She wrung her hands in front of her face, looking at them as if they were foreign to her. “You touched me and I saw so clearly.”

  Damn. So she did remember. Mom must have missed that particular memory when she tampered with Pain and the others over Demitrius’s alter ego, Benjamin. I wanted to get through to her that day and screwed up, letting her see and feel more than I should have.

  I was about to try to coax her inside again when she lunged forward and grabbed me. Her palms pressed to my cheeks, face in mine, her madness so clear to me I wanted to save her, but didn’t have the means.

  When she touched me, nothing happened. I could see the understanding in her eyes, the terror. “No,” she whispered. “It was there. I know it.”

  “Not any more,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  I lifted my hands and gripped hers, pulling them down from my face. She sobbed once, shoulders hunching forward. I hugged her gently, patting her back, wishing there was more I could do for her.

  As the clouds above us broke and the downpour emptied itself over where we stood, I felt the power in my mind uncoil, a thread releasing itself. A thread I recognized as it snaked its way out of me and into her. Not witch magic this time, no. F
ar different and much more of a shock.

  The green Sidhe power lit Pain up like she’d stuck her finger in a socket. She pulled herself free of my arms and stared into my eyes, green magic flickering over both of us.

  I watched Cydia descend, settle over my friend, wrapped up in the glowing green of her magic.

  I blinked through the torrential rain and tried to understand even as the fear left Pain’s face. Cydia took over, smiling at me.

  “Shaylee,” she said.

  My heart pounded once, heavily in my chest, hitting me like a blow.

  “Cydia.” Now I knew Quaid had been right. We were connected, Pain and I, by the power of the Wild Hunt. But what did the sisters have to do with the storm that was coming?

  Lightning struck, very close. As it did, the sky rippled with light

  Her finger points at me, hatred and jealousy in her face as she says, “Death.”

  and I staggered from the impact not only of the electricity in the air, but the punch in the gut as I connected with who Pain was to me. Fury took over. I lashed out at her, fist impacting her cheek before I could stop myself. She fell away from me with a cry, but when she looked back her eyes brimmed with the feelings I expected from her.

  she points and points and laughs as I die knowing she sent me to death for nothing

  Pain snarled at me, an animal sound. Thunder so loud my whole body shook from it drove me to my knees in the wet grass, Pain beside me. I tried to rise but the shock was too great. Lightning struck

  I am dying, my soul leaving my body

  and I found myself sobbing in fear. A hand grasped mine and I met Pain’s eyes as the thunder rolled over us again. Only it was her this time, my Pain, not Cydia, just her with her hurt and her fear. I looked up, saw the spirit of the angry and jealous sister rising, as though being pulled by the very air itself. She cried out but her voice was weak, so weak, her form finally swept away in a gale of wind.