Beyond Bewitching

by Mellanie Szereto

  When her hand brushed his hip, panic stole Tanner’s breath for only a moment. He held his palm out. “Give me the knife! Get back!”

  Rather than listening to his command, she sliced through the scale-covered length, returning the circulation to his leg. As she reached for his other arm, the disembodied tail whipped out again, seeming to have a mind of its own. This time, it caught her wrist and yanked her into the shrapnel before he could react. Her cape fluttered out behind her, shredding in the onslaught of sharp slivers.

  “No! Sarah!” Gut-deep pain ripped through him as she vanished into the whirlwind of destruction.

  Male screams filled the passageway. Then the storm simply vanished, along with Naga, Ellington, and Sarah. Silence fell louder than a death knell.

  Crumpling on the floor, Tanner closed his eyes. Evil had been destroyed, but at what cost?

  The prophecy? Forget the fucking prophecy.

  He’d lost the one woman he was destined to love and protect.

  Destined? I love her, damn it! I love her, and she’s gone.

  His entire purpose was gone. What was he supposed to do with the rest of his life without her? Why hadn’t the Fates intervened, directing the path of destiny? Was she right? Had they abandoned her?

  Pressing his fingers against his throbbing skull, he curled his knees close to his chest. Maybe if he went to sleep, he’d wake to find he’d only been dreaming. Sarah would be lying beside him in their bed, and none of this nightmare would be real.

  “Tanner, you okay?” John’s voice broke the deadly quiet. “Shit. You’re bleeding all over the place. Hang on. We have to get you home.”

  Too exhausted to move, Tanner didn’t even try to respond. Darkness was much more inviting.

  * * * *

  Clearing his mind of the chaos, John focused on transporting himself and Tanner to the compound. Luckily, they didn’t have to travel via time tunnels to get home. A simple transportation spell was faster and less likely to cause more damage to his partner’s numerous cuts.

  He gripped Tanner’s forearm, hoping the charm didn’t fail him. Neither of them had ever attempted to carry the other with a location spell.

  Take us to our Xanthus Mother,

  So she may heal my shifter brother.

  Bear us with the greatest speed

  In this time of urgent need.

  Blessed be and harm to none.

  Goddess, let your will be done.

  Colored lights swirled, and blowing sand formed a wall around them, blocking out the view of the catacombs. John certainly wouldn’t complain if he never saw the cursed place again. Sarah wasn’t there to call him back, her presence within his reach but not within this realm.

  A long moment passed, testing his patience. They didn’t have time to waste. From Tanner’s disorientation, John could only guess the shards from the Triad elders had contained something that had infected the cuts.

  Take us home, Goddess. Please.

  The lights faded, and the wall of sand disappeared to reveal the matriarch’s private study. The subtle scent of chamomile told him she had to be near with an ever-present cup of tea.

  He scanned the room.

  She stood at the teacart, her white braid draped over her shoulder. Her blue eyes met his gaze as he eased Tanner down to the floor. She seemed to pull his memories from his mind, the invasion more soothing than uncomfortable. “We must hurry.”

  Setting down her teacup, she grasped a bowl and came to kneel at Tanner’s side. The pungent odor of the mixture in the dish quickly overpowered the pleasant smell of the tea. How had she known to mix a poultice?

  She scooped several fingers full of the paste, spreading it over the bloody gashes on Tanner’s arms. “Do you have any cuts, Johnathon? The blade was poisoned.”

  A quick check of his exposed skin yielded no wounds. He had no idea how he’d escaped without so much as a scratch. “I’m fine. No blade. The remaining elders of the Black Triad shattered, and the pieces flew at Tanner.”

  Without looking up, she tensed but continued her ministrations. “Naga and Sarah Pennymead are destroyed then?”

  John swallowed against the painful lump in his throat, the tiniest doubt almost allowing him to grieve the loss of his mate. “Sarah isn’t an elder. Her…husband was the other member of Naga’s triangle. They tricked her into believing she was the third elder.”

  “She killed her husband. How could a dead man become a part of Naga’s—”

  “We saw him, matriarch.” No matter the impropriety of interrupting the clan leader, John was compelled to defend the woman he loved. “Naga called Sarah a witch. He said she didn’t have the power of the Black Triad. The snake shifter used Percy Ellington to make her think she was an elder, but Naga brought the abusive bastard back from death to join his ranks. She was a pawn for the last three centuries.”

  Smoothing the last of the herbal concoction onto Tanner’s face, the matriarch frowned at John. “You speak as if you believe she’s an innocent. What of her crimes against our clan?”

  John stood, pacing to the desk and back. Did he have anything to lose by telling the whole truth? “I don’t think she was responsible for those acts. The tattoo on her back lacks the necessary markings to make her an elder of the Triad. She does, however, have the sign of a Xanthus mate.”

  “Yours and Tanner’s mate? Have you told her? Where is she?”

  “She knows. Our mating is complete. Naga took her with him when she destroyed him and Ellington, but…I can feel her. I have to believe she’s still alive. I know she is. The connection hasn’t weakened or disappeared. It’s stronger than ever.”

  Rising to her feet, the Xanthus leader pursed her lips. “And Tanner? Does he think she lives?”

  He shook his head. “The shards of the Triad have affected his mindset. They’re poisoning his beliefs, making him doubt that she’s strong enough to have survived. Besides, Naga hinted that she carries our children. I know she would’ve gladly given her life for Tanner and me, but she wouldn’t sacrifice the lives under her care to destroy the Triad.”

  “Babies? She’s conceived?” For the first time since his adoption into the Xanthus clan, the matriarch seemed surprised at the turn of events. “The prophecy is coming to pass—and with the last Pennymead witch, no less. As soon as Tanner is well, we must find a way to bring her back from the other side.”

  “She’s trying to get out. She’ll be waiting for us when we get there. Somewhere. Don’t ask me where or how I know. How long until Tanner’s healed? I’m worried about Sarah—even though she’s more than capable of taking care of herself.” Studying the patches of drying poultice on his friend’s arms and face, John rubbed at the tense muscles in his neck. “You’re sure Tanner will be okay? Naga’s venom was potent enough to kill a grown man in under five minutes.”

  “The mating will protect him if she’s still alive, and your children will protect her if she truly has conceived. Your faith in her strength makes her stronger. Perhaps we should discuss your recent adventures over tea. I get the impression you didn’t share all that you could’ve during our last conversation.” Crossing to the teacart, she poured another cup of tea.

  Too keyed up to sit, he searched for an excuse to burn off some of the nervous energy. Not knowing exactly where his mate had disappeared to wasn’t helping. He needed to hold her. “What about Tanner? Shouldn’t I take him to our quarters?”

  “He’s best off where he is. Too much movement will allow the poison to travel more quickly through his body.” She aimed for the pair of armchairs in the corner. “Come sit, my dear boy. You’ve been gone for months without a visit, and I’ve missed your company. You must learn to be patient as well.”

  Surrendering to her request, he joined her and accepted the hot brew she offered. “We’d already made contact with Sarah when we spoke with you two days ago. She was planning to destroy Naga on her own, and the fact that she wasn’t a true elder didn’t deter her. The ink markings on her back
were clear, telling us we’d found our mate, but you had no reason to believe us. So, we kept that knowledge to ourselves.”

  “You protected her, as you should have. Loyalty is vital to lifemates.”

  Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to keep her out of the cobra’s clutches. They’d all known the dangers, but John hadn’t expected to watch her get sucked into oblivion and Tanner fall victim to Naga’s venomous soul.

  But she’s okay. I know she is.

  “Guilt won’t change the past, Johnathon. Trust in the Fates to know your path and bring you to the future you’re meant to have.” She tipped up the china cup and then cradled it in her palms. “You must eat and rest to stay strong for Tanner and Sarah. I’ll see about having a tray brought up while you finish your tea. Help yourself to the extra pillows and blankets in the linen closet in my bathroom. The couch is quite comfortable for a nap.”

  Exhaustion hit him before she left the room, and he set aside his drink in favor of her suggestion that he lie down. As tired as he was, retrieving a pillow and blanket would delay a much-needed rest. He’d sleep fine on a pile of rocks in a blizzard.

  He checked on Tanner on his way to the couch. The man who was like a brother to him hadn’t moved, but at least his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. No more blood seeped from the dozens of gashes. Hopefully, he’d wake strong and ready to go find their mate.

  Stretching out on the sofa, John closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. A yawn pushed its way out of his mouth. Another followed. He wiggled to get comfortable, but only succeeded in creating a lump between his hip and the back of the couch.

  A lump?

  That was no ordinary lump. Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out the cloth pouch containing Sarah’s treasures. He didn’t need to look at the bag to confirm what it was. She’d insisted he carry it for her.

  Sarah, where are you?

  Would she want him and Tanner to keep their promise to take her special belongings to Samuel’s grave? She wasn’t dead. Had she meant for them to do the task if she simply wasn’t able?

  He sat up, untying the leather lace as he blinked his bleary eyes. The bloodstone was on top, and he turned it over and over in his hand. She’d said the coven had given it to her for healing. Her rough life had offered plenty of opportunities for that, but the stone hadn’t seemed to complete its purpose.

  Tilting up the sack, he dumped her mother’s locket into his palm. The delicate chain and oval pendant had survived hundreds of years, and he was almost afraid to handle it for fear of damaging the priceless heirloom. Curiosity got the better of him, though. Wedging his fingernail between the layers of metal, he popped the locket open. A tiny painting of a woman’s face stared back at him. The likeness reminded him of Sarah—beautiful gray-green eyes and a long black mane. She looked a great deal like her mother.

  The last item brought a lump to his throat and a knot to his stomach. For all the horror involved in Samuel’s conception, she’d loved her son. Even the knowledge that Naga had helped create him was overshadowed by the fact that Samuel had also come from her. Any child she bore would have a selfless heart and a generous soul, truly evil father or not.

  John raised the lock of hair to his lips, savoring the softness as Sarah had done. Would their babies have her dark hair and intelligent eyes? Was she really pregnant, or had Naga tried to disrupt her composure by revealing the worst of his sins against her?

  Tucking the hank of curls back into the sack, he lifted the pendant. The locket spun round and round as John held it over the pouch, keeping perfect time to the lullaby echoing in his head. If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget the music of his mate.

  You said you’d teach Tanner and me the words, Sarah. I’m holding you to that promise.

  He guided the pendant into the bag and finally picked up the bloodstone. Even in modern times, the dark green gemstone with bright red nodules was associated with healing. What had kept it from working its magick with Sarah? She’d possessed the stone since her inception as a full-fledged witch, but it had yet to heal anyone.

  Rubbing his thumb over the polished surface, he shook his head. He’d never known a talisman to fail.

  Light footsteps drew his attention to the doorway, and the matriarch walked toward him carrying a tray.

  She stopped several feet from him. “Where did you find that?”

  Looking down at the bloodstone, he shrugged. “It belongs to Sarah. She got it when she was welcomed into her coven.”

  “Place it on Tanner’s chest, over his heart.”

  John grasped the cloth bag in his free hand as he stood, obeying the Xanthus Mother without question. A small jolt of electricity zinged through his fingers when the stone touched Tanner’s body, and the red blotches began to glow. Color slowly returned to Tanner’s pale skin.

  Could the stone have been meant to save him?

  Chapter 15

  Blinking against the bright sun shining in his eyes, Tanner raised his arm to cover his face. The scent of sweet yet tart apples and cinnamon tickled his nose and made his mouth water. Had someone made his favorite French toast for breakfast?

  “Are you awake? Come on. We have to get moving.” Heavy footfalls came closer, and John blocked the shafts of light. “How are you feeling?”

  Pushing up on his elbows, Tanner squinted up at his friend. “Like my stomach’s about to eat itself. Is breakfast ready?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go. I want to leave soon.” John offered him a hand up. “Do you remember what happened last night?”

  A firm grasp gave Tanner enough leverage to stand, and something clunked on the floor near his foot. He bent to examine the object. “Isn’t this Sarah’s bloodstone?”

  Images flickered in his mind, each one more alarming than the last. Sarah getting hauled into the splintering mess of Naga and her abusive husband was by far the worst. As he straightened, Tanner squeezed his eyes shut tight to stop the horror of watching her vanish.

  He sucked in a painful breath. “Did you find her?”

  John’s jaw flexed. “Yes, it’s Sarah’s bloodstone. And, no, I haven’t tried to find her yet. I couldn’t go without you. The matriarch believes we can trace Sarah’s essence through the afterlife and pick up her trail where she escaped.”

  “The Goddess and the Fates wouldn’t have let her in if she wasn’t dead.” The doubts Tanner had experienced after her disappearance seemed ridiculous now. Sarah’s heartbeat echoed his own. “She’s alive.”

  “The stone healed you.” John held out his flattened palm. “I’ll put it back in the pouch with her other belongings. Then we need to eat, get cleaned up, and go find her.”

  Rolling the bloodstone in his hand, Tanner hesitated. “Sarah wants those things interred with Samuel. She trusted us to keep them safe for her. We should do that before anything else.”

  “But isn’t that like saying we think she’s dead? She should be the one to do it.”

  Tanner closed his fingers around the polished stone. “Or maybe we have to prove we’ll carry out her wish to find her. She gave us the things that matter most to her for a reason.”

  A nod from John was answer enough. “Let’s eat.”

  As hungry as he was, Tanner hardly tasted his breakfast. A quick shower rinsed the nasty-smelling paste off his healing cuts, but he skipped a shave. He dressed for winter in Massachusetts. The sooner they found the burial site, the better.

  Slipping on his boots, he fingered the outline of the bloodstone in his jeans pocket. “I’m ready. Do you have the lock of hair and the necklace?”

  John held up the cloth pouch. “Yeah. Are you sure you’re up to this?”

  “Good as new. Or at least I will be when we find Sarah.” Tanner extended his arm, grasping John’s forearm.

  Mirroring the action, John initiated the mind link.

  We seek the grave of Sarah’s son

  To finish the task that’s left undone.

  Lead us to the hidden
site,

  And we shall make her wishes right.

  Blessings on both child and mother.

  Peace and love from one to the other.

  Dim lights flickered, blurring the room around them as the tempest spun. Chill seeped into the circle, and the world grew brighter.

  Morning sun reflected off a fresh coating of snow decorating a worn headstone. The name and dates had eroded from the small rectangle, but Tanner didn’t need to see any identifying marks to know they’d arrived at the right location.

  The grave stood apart from the other markers in the fenced cemetery. The lopsided gate hung from rusty hinges, and the pickets were in dire need of fresh paint.

  Dropping to his knees, Tanner wiped the snow from the headstone. Beneath the layer of white, bold black spray-painted letters stood out.

  Satan.

  Vandals had defiled a little boy’s final resting place.

  Beside Tanner, John growled. He rubbed his gloved hand over the insult, and it lightened to nothing.

  “Here lies Samuel Pennymead, beloved son of Sarah Pennymead.” As he spoke, he wrote the words on the limestone marker with his finger. Etched letters replaced the hateful message. “The ground’s frozen. We can’t bury her treasures.”

  Digging the bloodstone from his pocket, Tanner wracked his brain for a way to give Samuel his mother’s most precious gifts. He set the stone on top of the grave marker. “Maybe I can thaw a spot.”

  Before he could touch the ground, the rough limestone became smooth marble and John’s simple block lettering morphed into a graceful font.

  Too awed to speak, he took the cloth bag from John, placing the tufts of hair and locket on either side of the stone that had imbedded itself in the marble. Flowering vines wove around the inscription from a newly engraved heart at the base of the headstone. Both objects faded, seeming to become part of the marker.

  John cleared his throat. “Goddess, please care for Samuel in his mother’s absence.”