Blood Oath (#8, the Mystic Wolves)

by Belinda Boring

  The fact the witch had brought it today, when we met for our daily strategy meeting and scouring over her books, meant only one thing . . .

  We’d finally reached the end of her magical knowledge and I’d soon be on my way to London.

  One step closer as I hurtle toward that dreaded moment, I inwardly cringed. In my heart of hearts, I knew where I was headed and it killed me with each second that ticked by.

  “And for how long?” I asked distractedly, already knowing the answer.

  “Three nights should be long enough.” Vivien untangled one of the leather cords she’d hung small pinecones from. I hadn’t been able to take my eyes from it when she’d arrived. Three thick twigs were tied together to form a triangle with thread woven in the center to form a pattern. She’d then wrapped what looked like white linen in places. From the bottom side of the triangle, an assortment of nature hung—the pinecones, discarded feathers from wrens with one large black raven feather wafting the lowest in the air. There were shorter, broken off sticks that were fixed so they lay horizontally. What drew my focus the most, however, was the slice of wood that bore a symbol Vivien had burned into its surface herself.

  An eye.

  We were seeking knowledge, a way to see into the unknown for truth. It was beyond frustrating because I held the very answers she’d painstakingly sought.

  The memory of Darcy—feral and insane—was all I needed to ensure I kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t stomach the thought of that ever becoming a reality. It just wasn’t an option, so if my silence was yet another price I had to pay . . . so be it.

  “This should work, Devlin,” Vivien whispered, a tinge of uncertainty creeping into her voice. It was something I’d noticed over the course of our extended time together. She’d been so confident in the beginning but as each spell, enchantment, and charm failed, it seemed to chip away at her morale. “If it doesn’t, then we’ll seek help elsewhere. I promise.”

  All I could do was nod. I didn’t trust myself to ease her conscience without revealing just how much I knew.

  “I have a good feeling about this.” Holding the dreamcatcher out in front of me, I enjoyed seeing how it slowly spun on the thread. It truly was a piece of art. If I survived this . . . when I survived this . . . I planned to remind Vivien about it so she could make me another.

  And one for Darcy, as well.

  She tipped her head back and let out a mirthful laugh. “You’ve said that about each and every single one, Devlin. You, my friend, are an optimist!”

  Her happiness was infectious. “What can I say, I’m wise beyond my years.” And with that truth, I gave her a rakish wink. “I’ll make sure I take care of this as soon as we’re done here today.”

  Vivien was already reaching for the volume of magical instruction she’d last been reading. “We’re close. Oh, so close. I can feel it in my bones.”

  “Are you sure that’s not the storm brewing on the horizon?” With my head, I nodded toward the dark clouds. “Here’s hoping it will help water the crops and not bring a damaging wind. The last thing this town needs is to have the harvest destroyed.”

  She tapped the side of her nose twice. “I may or may not have had members of the coven place protective charms around our borders . . . just in case.” Vivien returned her eyes to the page she’d been reading, her finger following along—line by line.

  She was just like Elynor when it came to magic. They both shared things so matter-of-factly, as if it was a common occurrence. I’d become accustomed to it, but there were times in the beginning when I fought making the sign of the cross as if warding off evil and used my wayward hand to check my ascot.

  There was nothing dark or menacing about what they practiced. It was something to be appreciated and respected. I knew I directly benefitted from their witchy ways. Their craft helped me become the feared Enforcer I was in the future.

  “And in three days you’ll be able to create the scrying surface needed to see the answer we seek, right?”

  The moment the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d made a grievous error.

  “How would you know that?” Vivien asked, more suspicious than curious. She hadn’t said anything about what she was planning beyond my instruction for the dreamcatcher.

  I stammered slightly. “You told me.” It was a bald faced lie, but fingers crossed, she would buy it.

  She stared at me intently, searching my face for . . . something. “I did?” Her brow crinkled in fierce concentration and I held my breath, counting each invisible tick inside my head. “Hmmm.” And with that she shook her head and, with a slight shrug, continued. “Yes. Well, it’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist.” She held her place with her finger.

  “Three more days,” I murmured with a healthy dose of relief. Sometimes it felt like I was trying to navigate a minefield, constantly on guard.

  “Think you’ll survive?” Vivien cocked an eyebrow, as if she already held the answer. If only she knew.

  “I’ve got a good feeling, too,” I confessed with a smile.

  Reaching for the first book I could lay my hands on, I reclined back with my feet stretched out, and read. It didn’t matter what the subject was because things were finally moving forward.

  And with that, a strange wave of dread and excitement pulsed through me.

  Three days.

  There was no denying the power I felt as Vivien and I stood in the sacred grove of trees she’d created as her coven’s circle. Whether it was the energy that effortlessly ebbed from the surrounding nature, or the magical residual of past rituals, it felt like a wave of electricity softly crashing over me.

  It was funny, the things we forgot over time.

  I knew my friend would become one of the greatest witches I would ever meet—even now, greatness shined within her. The spell she was about to cast would mark the moment when she finally realized her potential. Vivien would go to great lengths for me in the coming years and it all began here.

  It made me wonder . . . what would she say if I dared confess all? Would she still embark on this journey with me?

  Watching her place each candle in a circle, her features set in a mask of concentration, the truth whispered clear.

  Yes.

  Yes, she would. Our friendship would become . . . was one of my most cherished things. So many people believed they were the only person who could be trusted—that they existed on an island of one, but I’d abandoned such foolishness long ago. Truly, when all was said and done, neither pride nor ego was a faithful partner. They were fickle and simply clouded the facts. I’d stubbornly claimed I could take care of things alone—refusing to accept anyone’s help. I’d been so sure my arrogance would protect me . . . to my downfall.

  Vivien was one of the few people who’d proven it was okay for others to see me vulnerable or helpless. She’d seen me at my worst. This sweet, trusting witch would walk beside me through Hell—her light was my guide.

  I wanted to sweep her up in my arms and shout my thanks to the heavens. Being my friend wasn’t always easy. Part of me wanted to warn her and give her a chance to escape before she devoted her life in aiding me.

  She straightened up and dusted off her hands. “We’re ready.”

  Speak up, I pushed. Before it’s too late. Before she starts down this path.

  Who was I kidding? I needed her just as much now as I did before.

  My fingers brushed over the dreamcatcher one last time. “Where would you like me to stand?” I asked, repeating my words like an actor does from a script.

  Vivien gestured to where I was. “Remain where you are.” The air seemed to still in anticipation. She lifted her arms and the candles’ wicks sparked, their flames flickering in the breeze.

  There must’ve been about twenty stubby candles, well used judging by the wax melted down the sides. She’d arranged them to form a perfect circle on the grass and, even though the sun had yet to set, they cast a comforting glow about us.

&
nbsp; Vivien closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. A reverent expression settled over her face, one I’d seen often enough that I recognized it as the precise instant she connected with her Goddess. It was the most peaceful I would ever see her. The smile that slowly curled her lips reflected the joy of feeling her beloved deity respond.

  Vivien began murmuring Gaelic in hushed tones; with each syllable her voice strengthened and grew louder. My heartbeat quickened when an invisible breeze tugged at me, drawing my attention away from the dancing flames to my friend.

  It didn’t matter that I knew how this would end—it was a privilege to simply witness this side of Vivien. I would never tire of it.

  “The dreamcatcher, Devlin,” she requested, extending her hand to receive the talisman. A spark of electricity exchanged between us.

  One by one, colored orbs of light appeared out of thin air, representing the four elements—earth, air, fire, and water. Vivien was calling a protective circle, inviting nature to aid her in the spell she’d created.

  And then the moment of truth arrived. Tossing the dreamcatcher up high over the flames, she clapped her hands and exclaimed, so mote it be!

  I would relive this memory over and over in my head, trying to pinpoint the exact second when her ritual worked, but it never revealed itself. In between blinks, the dreamcatcher descended and melted away, never hitting the ground. In its place, a liquid oval shimmered in the air like a glassy mirror.

  “Show us the answers we seek,” Vivien politely asked, hope blazoned across her face. Light twinkled in her eyes like fire. “Help us, Blessed Mother.”

  Something rippled in the still surface—a familiar picture forming.

  Vivien gasped.

  That was my cue to ask. “Who is that?”

  “Lady Hannah. She lives in London,” Vivien replied somewhat awestruck. I didn’t blame her for seeming so surprised. I hadn’t realized the significance the first time—why she stood with her mouth slightly agape as if she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. I had been new to the Supernatural community back then.

  The mere mention of Lady Hannah usually invoked two responses—absolute terror or complete wonder. Having experienced both, a jolt of excitement stirred within me. I couldn’t wait to see the infamous matriarch of London again.

  “Seems I’m to go there next,” I uttered as the scene in the liquid unfolded more. “Alone.” Sure enough, there I was bowing politely before the regal looking woman. Vivien was nowhere to be seen.

  “You can’t go unaccompanied,” she exclaimed, peering closer. “Perhaps I am in the room, but out of the scry mirror’s scope?”

  But I knew differently.

  “Maybe,” I offered, shrugging my shoulders. “Although, as much as I want you to be there, it may be safer to go alone.” When Vivien threw me a confused glance, I finished. “With Julian still out there, I don’t feel right about leaving Lucinda and my parents without protection.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “The coven would watch over them, Devlin. Surely, you know I would never leave without ensuring their safety.”

  The bespelled oval mirror continued to hover above the candles, temporarily ignored. “True, but you are the most powerful, Vivien. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he returned.” My words caught in my throat. “And Verity . . . what if he . . .” An involuntary shudder shot down my spine. My fears were valid—danger still lurked on the horizon. I just wasn’t a hundred percent honest about its source.

  Julian wasn’t the threat my loved ones needed safeguarding from.

  I needed Vivien home, nurturing the magical fire this ritual had ignited. I needed her to grow in power to stop a greater monster.

  Me.

  “I’ll agree to remain behind on one condition,” she concluded finally.

  “Fine, if you will promise me something as well.”

  Vivien nodded. “Send for me if at any time you need me, Devlin.”

  “I won’t,” I began to interrupt. That earned me one of her famous stern glares. I placed my hand over my heart. “But you have my word.”

  “What is your condition?”

  My request rested on the tip of my tongue. How could I word this properly without triggering the Fates to step in or alarm Vivien?

  Taking a fortifying breath, I stopped overthinking. “Protect my family.”

  Thin lines crinkled around her eyes as she tipped her head back and laughed. “Must you even ask? Of course!”

  I wasn’t finished, though. “No matter what. No matter who comes . . .” She’d caught the ominous tone I’d desperately been trying to hide. “I have a bad feeling about all this, Vivien.”

  She waved her fingers in the air and a glowing knot formed between us, magic making it sparkle. “With this knot, I solemnly promise to watch over yours as if they were my own.”

  “Then I leave for London tomorrow.”

  Vivien quickly closed her circle, thanking the elements for their support. The ocean’s rich scent surrounded us as the witch expressed her gratitude to her Goddess. The ritual was deemed a success and the candles extinguished when Vivien blew out a slow, steady breath.

  “What will you tell Verity?” she asked as we quietly went about gathering everything. “You know she’ll want to come with you. I still don’t feel comfortable letting you leave by yourself. Lady Hannah has been known to be quite eccentric when first meeting people.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to rely on the old Lockhart charm to win her over,” I joked, flashing her a cocky grin. “It worked on you.”

  “Just make sure you return to us safely, Devlin.”

  I would return. That wasn’t what caused the heaviness settling in my gut.

  No, it was the kind of homecoming it would be that worried me.

  “Prepare, Vivien,” I reminded her, ignoring the way she was studying me again. Dropping the last of the candles into the basket and lifting it, I leveled her with one of my own piercing stares. “That’s all I ask. Be ready.”

  I didn’t wait for her to ask the question I knew must be brimming inside her—the ones she would eventually share with me when we talked about today.

  There was no more time to waste.

  I had another goodbye to offer.

  Verity.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  She was an absolute vision.

  Coming into the stables with the sun lighting her from behind, I drank in her radiance, memorizing every nuance. Verity had owned my heart from the second I’d seen her at the age of ten, and time hadn’t diminished that.

  The Fates may view this reliving of my past as a curse, and there were definitely moments when I agreed but right now . . . silently observing her approaching from Beauty’s stall . . . I would call this a gift.

  It would be hard to say goodbye again, especially knowing what was to come. I would simply capture each second and store them in my memory along with treasured others.

  I wasn’t worthy of Verity. I never had been.

  Luckily for me, she’d never wizened up to that. She saw something inside me that whispered of love and honor—the knight in shining armor to her princess. It would be too late for her to retrieve her freely given heart when she finally realized just how foolishly she’d placed her faith.

  For days, it had been on the tip of my tongue to take her in my arms and apologize profusely. She wouldn’t understand the depth of my agony or remorse, but I did. There just weren’t enough words or phrases to express my remorse. In all the many years that followed our final farewell, I’d not once found anything remotely appropriate.

  It would be something I searched for until my death.

  “I hear we’re going to London,” her sweet words danced through the air. The swish of her dress whispered she knew I planned on going alone but was prepared to fight for a chance to join me.

  Closing my eyes, I braced myself for the conversation. I loathed refusing her anything, especially with the coy way she was smiling at me. We could have so much fun toge
ther—walks along the Thames or dancing at the numerous balls held each night. Stolen kisses in the shadows as stars twinkled above us. London was such a lively place and Verity would fall in love with it.

  “This is something I must do alone, sweetheart.” I knew her well enough to know the endearment wouldn’t stop her from pleading her case. I ran the brush through Beauty’s mane one more time before putting it away. I was eager to ride her before I left.

  “I thought we were partners,” Verity teased, cocking her eyebrow at me. Nuzzling my beloved horse’s face, I watched as she cooed and murmured soft words into Beauty’s ear. The animal whinnied in response, gently stomping her hoof as if it agreed. “How can I help if I’m left behind?”

  The dramatic pout Verity leveled at me was adorable and tugged at my heartstrings. “You’ll be of more assistance staying here and helping my parents with Lucinda. I won’t be too long.”

  Another bald faced lie. It was alarming how easily they rolled off my tongue.

  “Want to join me for a ride?” I asked, changing the subject. Before she could open her mouth to argue, I hoisted Verity up onto Beauty’s back before mounting and snugging my hips behind hers. A thrill pulsed through me from the warm contact of her body intimately pressed to mine.

  If not for the blood oath, she would’ve been mine to hold for the rest of our lives. Our days would be filled with similar moments like this—wrapping my arms around her slender waist, the scent of her hair filling my nose as we began to slowly trot away from the house. I would’ve been able to collect endless sounds that set my heart racing—her laughter on the wind, her gasps of surprise, her tenderly uttering my name upon discovering something that pleased her. These were all things I longed for and spent night after night fantasizing about.

  The ‘what ifs’.

  The ‘what might have beens’.

  Dreams that would never become a reality no matter how hard I wished for them.

  “Don’t think this gets you off the hook, Mr. Lockhart. I intend to join you in London and nothing you can say or do will convince me otherwise!” Verity exclaimed, her voice catching when Beauty increased her pace. We’d started down a familiar and favorite trail—one even the horse looked forward to taking whenever we rode together.