by Laken Cane
“You’re not a Dean,” Eli said, blackly. “Deans don’t hurt women.”
“Oh, how wrong you are,” Mel said, joyfully. “Tell him how wrong he is, Abby.” He jerked her hair, then slid the knife to her chin. “I don’t think my brother believed me when I told him you killed dear old granddad. You tell him.”
Abby closed her eyes in a long, slow blink.
“Go on,” Mel said. “Tell him. No? Fine, then. I will. Abby really did kill Grandfather, Eli. I know because Becky helped her. Becky told me everything about Abby. About you, dear brother. About the amazing Deans.”
Eli didn’t take his stare off Abby, but suddenly, she couldn’t look at him anymore. She put her gaze on the ground until he spoke.
“Look at me, Abby,” he said.
“Yes,” Mel said. “Look at him.”
And quite suddenly, she began to sob.
The past, the present…
The horrors of life.
The godawful Deans.
At that moment, they were all just too much for her.
“There, there,” Mel said, patting her shoulder with the side of the blade.
“You’re mad.” Eli’s voice was hoarse and raw.
“And you’re just now figuring that out?” Mel’s laughter tangled with Abby’s cries, echoing eerily before wafting into the night sky and disappearing.
Abruptly and with violent intent, Mel whirled Abby around, slammed her against the wall, and smashed his lips against hers.
She began to fight him, wildly, unthinkingly, as the past came back to claim her.
In the background, Becky crooned, “William Dean raped little Abby, and Abby didn’t tell. But then she caught him raping me and sent him straight to hell.”
Mel took his mouth from Abby’s, threw his head back, and yelled, “I love that fuckin’ poem!”
Eli roared, and in his voice was something Abby had never heard in her life. She didn’t know what it was, she just knew she’d never heard it.
It scared her more than Mel scared her.
Even Mel paused. “Damn,” he murmured against her lips. “That gave me goose bumps.”
Then he kissed her again.
Not that kiss was the right word for it.
His teeth cut her lips and bruised her gums, and he pushed the back of her head so violently against the wall she nearly lost consciousness.
Wished she would.
With his left hand, he kept the tip of the knife pressed under her chin.
She almost—almost—didn’t remember her wand.
But when she did, nothing in the world mattered to her as much as getting it in her hand.
And nothing in the world mattered as much to her as killing another fucking Dean.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The killing of William Dean had settled firmly into her soul and haunted her in the years that followed. Changed her.
But that wasn’t on her mind when she went for her wand. Only black rage and fear were on her mind. Fear for her mother, for Eli, for Jewel.
She wanted to destroy her tormentor.
She wasn’t the only one.
As she felt for her wand, Basilia yelled something unintelligible, loud, and heavy with power.
With Abby as his shield, Mel whirled. He went for the pistol at his hip, and just before it cleared its holster, Abby found her wand.
Had she been a more powerful witch, or just one who’d been trained, she could have called the power inside her and sent it into Mel’s body, much the way she’d sent power into Brooke Dunn’s cup when she’d given her the fade spell. It might not have killed him, but it could have bought them time.
But she was unable to hold her emotions steady, unable to chant, or think, or pull the power. With her wand, however, she wouldn’t need to have such concentration. Her wand would build power and kill for her.
She had her wand.
Basilia hadn’t been chanting and building killing power—maybe she’d known it wouldn’t be enough. She’d been creating healing power, and when it was finally ready, she sent it like a spiraling ball of power straight at the alpha.
Her power ripped Eli’s wolf from the bonds of weakness in which it had been flailing, crippled and weak, and then everything happened at once.
Basilia ran for the wands on the wall—they might not have been obedient wands but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use them to kill.
Abby jerked her own broken wand half from the waistband of her jeans.
Becky dove for the shotgun on the floor.
Jewel, covered with blood, slinked into the spell room, her glowing demon eyes fiercely red.
Mel put his fingers around Abby’s throat and squeezed. “Stay back or she dies,” he screamed.
She clawed at his fingers but his grip was relentless, and he was choking the life from her. Her legs gave out as the room darkened, and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, couldn’t think.
She was dying.
“I said stay back,” Mel yelled, and seemed to think choking her wasn’t dramatic enough. With his hand at her throat holding her up, he pulled back the knife.
He stabbed her in the abdomen once—she felt the blade glance off her ribs and all she could think was she’d lost her wand and couldn’t help her mother—and then she was falling.
She sent power from her broken wand, but it went wrong. She didn’t know how, but she felt it.
The chaos from the talisman’s death wasn’t just in Waifwater. It was there, in the spell room. In the pocket.
She hit the floor.
But there were others in the room, others who could fight.
Every single one of them wanted a piece of Mel Damon.
But the one who got him was Eli.
The wolf.
He threw himself at Mel, buried his teeth in his brother’s throat, and dragged him away from Abby.
Abby climbed to her feet, one hand to her throat and the other to her ribs, and stumbled away.
She was dazed and uncertain and saw the room through a fog.
And then a shotgun blast woke her up.
Becky aimed the gun once again. Not at Abby.
At Eli.
Basilia, a wand in each hand, rushed toward Becky. She screamed curses and incantations, and did something Abby never thought she’d see her mother do—she sent bad, dark magic to harm a human being.
Jewel didn’t attack anyone.
She ran to Abby and grabbed her by the arm. “Come with me, sister.”
Abby thought she jerked away from the demon, but her arm remained firmly caught. “I have to help.” The whispered words hurt her throat, but she forced them out anyway. “Leave me alone.”
“No.” Jewel’s voice was calm. “You don’t need to be here now. It is handled.”
Abby shook her head. “No.”
“Come with me, sister,” Jewel said again.
The wolf and the demon hunter tumbled out of sight, and for a second Abby believed she’d never see either of them again.
She didn’t care.
“Get her out of here, Jewel,” Basilia yelled, and sent another stream of power at the empath.
Becky flew backward and hit the cauldron over the inextinguishable fire, and then Jewel, stronger than Abby could have known, dragged Abby from the room.
Before she left, she smelled burning flesh.
Becky was in the fire.
But there were no screams.
She felt the rushing of dark unconsciousness coming to claim her, and then…
“Abby. Are you awake, Abby?”
It took her a few tries before she could open her eyes, and when she did, she found herself on the bed in Jewel’s room. Sunlight flooded the room, and her mother and Jewel leaned over the bed, their faces creased with concern.
At least, her mother’s face was concerned. Jewel’s was emotionless—but that didn’t hide the fact that her eyes held a spark of worry.
“How long have I been out?” Abby asked. Her t
hroat still hurt, but not as much as her ribs. Her head throbbed, and her lungs were full of fire. A sharp pain shot through her fingers when she tried to lift her hand and she found it thickly wrapped with gauze.
She didn’t remember hurting her fingers.
“I gave you a little something,” Basilia said. “You’ve been resting since yesterday. How do you feel, sweetheart?”
“Mother,” she said. “Who’s dead?”
Basilia patted her leg. “No one, dear. Eli took away that awful man—he said he and his council would handle him.”
“Becky?”
Basilia hesitated. “She’s gone.”
“She got away?”
“No. Not really. She’s…”
“She is with the wolf as well,” Jewel said, smoothly.
“You’re lying,” Abby said, and then began coughing. She put a hand to her chest. “Ow,” she cried.
Basilia wrung her hands, then scurried across the room to grab something from the dresser. She ran back to Abby’s bedside. “Help me sit her up, Jewel.”
Jewel leaned over, grabbed a handful of Abby’s nightgown, and pulled her up.
“Easy, child,” Basilia said, when Abby moaned. “For goodness’ sake! Open, Abby. Take a sip of this and you’ll rest easy.”
The next time she woke up, it was dark except for the yellow glow of the hallway light coming in through the slightly open door.
She lay quietly, in less pain, and let the thoughts come.
They came in flashes, like scenes from a movie, something she watched. Not something she was part of.
She didn’t cry. She felt strangely hollow, strangely unemotional.
“Soon,” Jewel murmured, “you will be angry. Then you will be sad.”
“Jewel, did you sleep on the floor?”
Jewel popped up beside the bed. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“To watch you.”
Abby wasn’t sure whether Jewel was being sweet or freaky.
“Do you feel better?” the demon asked.
“Yes. Quite a bit. Mother is a good doctor.”
Jewel climbed into the bed, turned on her side, and rested her head on her hand. “Ask your questions, sister. I’m not afraid to answer with Mother gone.”
Abby turned her head to look at her. “Why were you covered with blood when you came into the spell room?”
“Do you not want to ask about the wolf?”
“No.”
“All right.”
“The blood, Jewel.”
“Becky said I should hide and stay out of the way or a very bad man would kill me.”
Abby closed her eyes. Shit, Becky. “What did you do?”
“I didn’t hide. The bad man was the demon hunter and he was aware of me the moment he entered the pocket. Just as I sensed him.”
“Becky didn’t give you an innocent to mutilate. You and Mel fought.”
“He hurt me, sister,” Jewel declared. “He had things. Salt. Holy water. Words. They hurt. He would have killed me but Becky changed his mind. She said he should take me out of the pocket and use me as bait to catch the demon witch Acadia. They restrained me in a demon trap—that was why I was late to the spell room.”
Relief flood Abby. She wasn’t happy that they’d hurt the little demon, but she was very glad Jewel had not been given a living doll to torture and bury. “How’d you escape the trap?”
“I have allies in the pocket.”
“Allies,” Abby said, surprised. “What allies?”
“Sister, I have secrets. Just as normal people do.”
Abby picked up a long, thick strand of Jewels hair and tugged it gently. “You are normal people, sister.”
Jewel burst into loud giggles. “I am not!”
Abby smiled. “Here in the pocket you are.”
Jewel shrugged, still grinning. “All right.”
“Are you healed?”
“I am.” She lifted her chin. “I am part demon, part witch.”
“And you are powerful. Yet you didn’t attack or fight those in the spell room.”
“It was handled. You needed me. You were in trouble.”
Abby ran her hand up to her ribs and gently rubbed the bandage there. “I’m weak.”
“Yes.”
Abby couldn’t laugh. It was too true. Too painful. She was barely more than just…
Just a woman.
“That’s okay,” she murmured. “That’s okay.”
“Shall I talk about the wolf now?”
“No.”
“You no longer want the alpha.”
“He’s a Dean. And I…” She swallowed a lump that had grown large in her throat at the mention of Eli. “I don’t want to want the alpha.”
“They have bad blood,” Jewel said.
“Perhaps.”
“I have something to show you now that you’re better.” Jewel climbed from the bed, then went to her closet. She disappeared inside and Abby heard her moving what sounded like heavy furniture.
Abby pulled herself up in the bed, pleased to find that her wounds screamed a little less loudly when she moved. “Jewel? What are you doing in there?”
Jewel emerged from the closet carrying a small metal box. “I found this. It is yours now.”
And Abby knew before the girl placed the box on her lap what was inside it.
The talisman.
Jewel had found the talisman.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Her fingers trembled when she opened the box and withdrew the tiny talisman. It was black, cold, and dead.
It needed the alpha to charge it, to restore order.
“Becky hid it here when I let her in,” Abby realized.
“Yes.”
“Where is she, Jewel?”
Jewel’s eyes were steady. “She is being cared for by the pocket.”
Abby’s vision was distorted by tears as she stared at the talisman. “She’s alive?”
“For now.” Jewel tilted her head. “Why are you sad for her?”
“Because she was my friend. Because she is a person.”
“She deserves punishment for what she did. The demon hunter will get his. She will get hers. Let it go, sister. She’s out of your hands.”
Abby scrubbed her face. “We don’t break promises. You know that.”
Jewel nodded.
“Promise me you won’t torture her.”
Jewel lifted her eyebrows. “Our mother won’t let me near her.”
Abby wasn’t sure when Jewel had started calling Basilia her mother, but she liked that the child did so. She needed a mother. “Mother has her?”
“She put her away. Ask her. She’ll tell you if you insist.”
Abby nodded. “I will. Bring me a small box, Jewel. Wood, plastic, anything. Then throw this silver one away.”
“All right.” Jewel jogged from the room, and a few minutes later, Basilia bustled in, carrying a breakfast tray.
“Jewel said you were awake, hungry, and full of questions.”
Abby patted her stomach. “I swear, if that child doesn’t stay out of my head…and yes, I have questions, Mother.”
Her mother stared at the box. “Is that—”
“The talisman. Becky hid it and Jewel found it.”
“You’ll give it back to the wolf pack, of course.”
“Yes.”
Basilia placed the tray on the bed. “Eat, dear. It’ll help you regain your strength.”
“I’ll try to eat a little,” Abby said. “And you will talk.”
Basilia sighed loudly and folded her hands across her middle. “The alpha—”
“No,” Abby interrupted. “I don’t want to know about the alpha. Tell me about Becky.”
“Sweetheart, it was not Eli’s fault.”
“Mother.”
“Fine. You want to know what I did with the traitorous Becky Bates.”
“You are correct.”
“I put her in prison.” Basilia lifted her ch
in and looked down her nose at her daughter. “She should be thankful I didn’t blast her head right off her shoulders.” She pursed her lips and a flash of rage lit her eyes. “She hurt my home and my children. She’s lucky I didn’t give her to Jewel.”
Abby nodded. “You’re a good woman.”
Basilia sniffed as her anger receded. “I created a tiny…cell, you might call it, a long time ago. Becky is caught inside it with only her thoughts for company. And there she will stay.”
Abby nodded, then shrugged. “She did ask to live in the pocket.”
“She’s gotten her wish.”
“She couldn’t decide if she should be good or evil,” Abby said. “She warned Jewel about Mel.”
“Yet she told Mel about Jewel and let him into the pocket.”
“She restrained Eli because she was afraid Mel would shoot him if he attacked.”
“Yet she hid the talisman, which would have protected the alpha.”
“She didn’t tell Mel when I hid part of my wand.”
Basilia’s eyes flashed once again. “Yet she let him stab you and cut you and choke you!”
Abby nodded and she and her mother stared at each other for a long moment.
“She’s insane,” they both said.
And Abby let it go. She didn’t ask how Becky would be fed or clothed or bathed. She didn’t want to know. The woman was Basilia’s prisoner. Basilia would tend her however she saw fit.
Jewel walked into the bedroom. “I found a box, sister.”
“Thank you.” She snorted when Jewel handed her the box. “Well, that’s just perfect.” It was a small, unpainted coffin, previously occupied, she was sure, by a body part from one of Jewel’s dolls.
“Eat,” Basilia urged, as she headed toward the door. “Then get cleaned up. Eli will be back soon. He had to tend his pack and hand his brother over to the council, but he promised to return to see you no matter what was going on in Waifwater.” She paused before she walked through the doorway. “He cares for you, Abby. Cares for you greatly.”
“He does not mind your face,” Jewel said.
“Jewel!” Basilia put her hands on her hips. “You—”
“Leave her be, Mama,” Abby said. She tugged her hair over the side of her face, unaware she was doing it until she glanced up to see Basilia’s weary, despairing stare.
She picked up her fork. “Stop hovering, both of you. I’ll eat my breakfast and have a bath. Go away now.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words.