The Shadow: The Original's Trilogy

by Cara Crescent

  Trina recoiled from the memory.

  “I’ve got you.” Duncan’s words whispered in her ear.

  What the hell?

  Duncan sat next to her, the world outside the car tilting as the car rolled over and over until it hit something with enough force that she lost consciousness.

  She must have psychically dragged him into her vision. He was right there with her in the darkness with her mom. She’d never let anyone into her mind. Never even talked about this and now he knew.

  “Work through it.” His voice filled her ears, drowning out the high-pitched whine of sirens. “Go down again. Get past it.” But with every word, his voice faded, coming from farther away. “Get it over with.”

  Sliding her foot forward, she found the edge, but she couldn’t force her foot down.

  “Wake up, Satrina.” Her mother. No one else used her full name. “Satrina, wake up for Mommy.”

  She opened her eyes, but the darkness was so complete she couldn’t see anything. Something heavy pinned her down, crushing her into her seat and pressing the seatbelt buckle against her back. She smelled gas. Burnt rubber. “Can’t breathe, Mommy. Help me.”

  “I know, baby.”

  Panic started to well up. Why couldn’t she see? “Where are we?”

  “We’re still in the car. You remember the accident?”

  Trina closed her eyes, but the vision remained. She understood now why people lost their minds on the thirteen steps. “It’s not real. It’s not real.” Her hand went to her hip, where it felt like a real seatbelt dug into her.

  The buckle pressing into her hurt. “Are you okay? Am I okay? Something heavy is on me. Get it off.” The something heavy took a deep breath as a sob wracked through her mom.

  “I can’t. I can’t move. But the firemen are here and they’re going to cut us out of the car. I need you to listen, baby.”

  “I can’t breathe, Mommy.”

  Goddess help her she didn’t know if she could do this. She’d thought she’d lost these memories long ago. She’d never been able to remember what happened. Not like this.

  “Yes. You can. You are breathing. I know you’re uncomfortable, but you have to listen.”

  In the darkness, Duncan said, “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

  She damn well knew she had a tight grip on Duncan. Knew he stood at her back, but she couldn’t feel him anymore. Nor the steps beneath her shoes. She tried to force her foot down another step and failed. She couldn’t move. The weight had her pinned down.

  Mommy cried. She couldn’t see her or what was wrong. She stilled. “You’re hurt.”

  “Baby, I love you so much. You’re my dark little angel.”

  “Mommy . . .?”

  “And you’re going to do great things. You have purpose, Satrina. Just like your namesake. ‘When the Original is no longer cursed, she’ll come to thee as three. All as humans first, then as daemons are set free: the Beacon burning bright, the Shadow hidden from sight, the blighted, damned Knight.’ Remember, Satrina.”

  Mommy never wanted to talk about her name. About the ancient one she’d named her for. “I’m scared.”

  “Me, too, baby. Listen to me. When the firemen open up the car, Mommy is going to go away.”

  “No.”

  “I have to. But I’m going to keep you safe. They’re going to leave us here for a while, Satrina.”

  “How can you go away if we’re gonna be stuck here?”

  “My body will still be here. The weight . . . they think the weight will keep you safe, baby. But there’s too much pressure . . . when they open the car . . . .” Her voice cracked. She sniffed. “The coven is your family now. Do good by them.”

  “Duchess!” Duncan’s sharp tone made her look to her side. It was too dark to see him.

  “Ma’am?” A deep male voice, muffled but full of authority. “We’re ready.”

  “Love you, baby.”

  “Mommy, no! I’m sorry. Don’t go away!”

  Mommy’s voice wobbled. “Go ahead.”

  Metal screeched and screamed. Pain spiked through her skull and made her sinus’ feel too big in her head. The weight, which had been crushing her before, became even heavier.

  “I’m picking you up, Duchess. Don’t freak out on me. I’m gonna walk us down the rest of the steps.”

  Light flooded over them, so much brighter than any of the lights she’d remembered from before. Great big square lights lit everything up bright as day. She couldn’t see much. No more than a sliver between the seat cushion and the weight stifling her. She caught a glimpse of yellow and gray firefighter pants. He knelt down and his face came into view. “You and me, we’re going to wait here a while.”

  “Where’s my mommy?”

  “She’s keeping you safe, baby girl.”

  Behind him, she caught a glimpse of another man—one who shouldn’t have been there—pacing. Duncan raked his hands over his head in a desperate gesture. With each step, his body shrank, thinned to adolescence until he didn’t look much older than Harry.

  A voice she didn’t recognize called out to him. “Duncan?”

  She strained to see around the firefighter. To see who called Duncan.

  “Mum?” He walked out of sight.

  The firefighter touched her. He smiled. “What’s your name?”

  “Satrina.” She shifted one of her arms, got it loose and started prodding the heaviness crushing her. Part of it was the driver’s seat. Part of it was soft and warm and smelled like Mommy.

  That couldn’t be right. The weight squishing into her couldn’t be her.

  “Well, Satrina, we’re going to move the weight off you a little at a time. We’ve got to give your body time to adjust.” He motioned to someone and a moment later he had a clean white cloth and a bottle of liquid. “I’m going to clean you up a little bit. And my buddies here, they’re going to pull the weight up just a little. I need you to be patient for me and I need you to keep looking toward me.” The weight lessened to how it had been before they’d pried the car open. Hair brushed over her cheek. Mommy’s hair.

  She kept her eyes focused on the fireman but she felt Mommy’s gaze on her. She just knew she stared at her. She wanted to look because Mommy always had a smile and something to tease her about, but she didn’t want to look because she might have the sad face on. Or the mad face. Or maybe she wouldn’t be there at all.

  She’d been mad at Mommy. Said things to her she shouldn’t have said and when Mommy turned to give her a swat . . .

  Harry walked right in the middle of the scene, a fat, orange tabby-cat spilling over in his arms. “Hey!” He grabbed Duncan and stalked toward Trina. “Twenty minutes we’ve been standing on these damn steps. What the hell is going on?” Duncan didn’t resist, but he kept looking back, his attention staying with something she couldn’t see.

  “Hey!” Harry shook him. “It’s this place. It’s got you stuck.” He pointed to her. “Help me get her out of there.”

  Duncan’s eyes widened as they met hers. He looked down at himself. Started to look back and shook his head. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “Fuck’s sake.” Harry set the cat down, put both hands to Duncan’s back and shoved.

  Duncan disappeared.

  “You, too, Lopez.” Harry motioned to her. “Let’s go. This isn’t good for you.”

  He was right. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to relive this. Though it was nice to have had her mother back for a moment. Her hand twisted in Mommy’s blouse. The vision might restart. She might have enough control the next time to ask all the questions she’d longed to ask her over the years. She might not get lost next time through. “Maybe a little longer.”

  “No.”

  Harry put his foot on the remnants of the car, grabbed her arm and pulled her out from under her mother’s body. She glanced back as she stood and saw Mommy. The red where the whites of her eyes should’ve been. The bloody tears. The sadness and fear in he
r final expression. Her mother blinked and turned her head. “There’s no turning back now, my dark angel. No half-measures.”

  Harry gave her a hard shove.

  Duncan grabbed hold of her before she stumbled down any more steps.

  She ran her fingers under her eyes and wiped away the tears. Goddess help her she could still feel the weight of her mother’s body. A shiver wracked through her. “I know this is shitty of me to ask, but I can still feel—”

  He pulled her into his arms and rubbed his hands over her back. “I know. Me, too.”

  Goddess help her, she’d never felt safer than when surrounded by this big man. “Who called you? I couldn’t see where you went.” She wasn’t even sure if it had been a man or a woman.

  “That’s for the best.” He pulled her away a bit and met her gaze. Whatever he’d seen in the vision had shaken him. “Ready?”

  No. She’d much rather stay in his arms a while longer. “Yeah.” She turned to find Harry and George staring at them both.

  “This is the thanks I get for dragging the two of you out of there?”

  In a monotone, she said, “Yeah, Harry. Thanks.”

  Duncan’s, “Good going, pup,” wasn’t much more enthusiastic.

  He rolled his eyes. “Look, there’s like six more steps to go. What say we jump the remainder? I’m not keen on watching the two of you disappear on me again.”

  Trina nodded at the same time Duncan said, “All right.”

  They stood three astride on the step. The darkness swirled and pulsed at the bottom.

  “One.”

  Both Harry and Duncan entwined their fingers with hers.

  “Two.”

  George stared down into the darkness and hissed.

  “Three.”

  Chapter 26

  They landed hard. Pain shot up her ankles and she stumbled forward, catching herself before she ran into a metal chair that was bolted down to the cement slab at the bottom. “Don’t turn around. Rowena’s notes said people have gone mad seeing themselves burn in hell’s flames.” Distant voices screamed behind them. The heat of fire warmed her back. Eventually, they’d have to turn around, but she wasn’t ready yet.

  Down here, the darkness was a physical entity, swirling and morphing.

  “Something’s behind us.”

  She eyed Duncan from the corner of her eye. The longer she stood there, the more she felt it—something silent and menacing pacing behind them, lifting the hairs at her nape. “Don’t turn around.”

  Before them, the darkness solidified into a hooded figure. When the figure looked up, her breath caught.

  It was her. Sort of. The hooded woman had the same face, though a little thinner, the same hair, though hers was curly. The other woman was a tad older, an inch or two taller, and she wore old-fashioned clothes. A past-life version of her.

  Duncan took a step closer, his brow creased. “Satrina?”

  Trina’s attention whipped to Duncan. He’d known her before?

  She glanced between the hooded woman and Duncan. He tried to touch her cheek and his hand went right through her. Satrina didn’t even acknowledge him with a glance.

  Souls are drawn to those they’ve known before. Part of her wanted to turn around, leave, and pretend she didn’t just see the wistful longing on her mate’s face.

  Satrina’s focus stayed with Trina. “I knew you’d come.”

  Trina blurted out her most pressing question. “What’s behind us?” Something was there. Pacing. Watching.

  Satrina ignored the question. “The year is fifteen eighty-nine. Katherine, my high-priestess, asked me”—she nodded to Trina—“us, to create a spell that will close and protect the gates of Machon should anything happen to the coven. Something difficult that will keep those unworthy from reaching the gate.”

  “I almost didn’t make it.”

  “We are leaving everything—our children, our lovers and our homes—to go after Katherine’s mate tonight. She won’t tell us why; she can’t risk the wrong people overhearing, but she’s warned us we may not come back. Something awful has happened.”

  Duncan glanced at her. “Ask her what she knew of Crowley.”

  “I don’t think she can hear you, D.” Harry tipped his head to the side. “She’s like those animatronics at Disneyland, pre-programmed with a message but in ghost form.”

  “He’s right.” Trina nodded toward Satrina. “She’s not answering my questions. She pauses when we talk, but once we’re quiet, she continues on as if she weren’t interrupted. Watch.”

  They all quieted and Satrina continued. “Recently, the Guardians presented Katherine’s mate to the coven as a way to peacefully take back the Council from Leopold and his supporters. Katherine knows Mr. Crowley far better than I, but from what I’ve seen of him, I do think he can help daemon kind.”

  Okay, now they were getting somewhere. “They must’ve planned to have Crowley mesmerize Leopold into stepping down from the Council. Something went wrong—”

  “No doubt Leopold figured out the plan,” Duncan said. “And turned Crowley to his side.”

  “—and Katherine had Satrina close the gates of Machon before going after Crowley.”

  “That must have been the Clearances.” Harry shifted George to his other arm, but the cat didn’t take his dilated eyes off whatever was stalking behind them.

  The old coven had been eradicated during the Clearances. Rowena had thought the vampires on the Council were responsible and had wanted to decimate the vampire population in retaliation.

  Satrina continued. “Most daemons support our coven. They know when the Original comes, she’d be born a witch. They revere us. If we do not survive tonight, the gates will close to protect our allies.”

  “Jesus.” Duncan met her gaze. “That must be the deal Augustina told us about. She said Leo and Crowley made a deal—Leo upheld his part, but Crowley hasn’t yet. How much do you want to bet Leopold wanted Crowley to dust everyone who opposed him? That’s why the Clearances happened. The coven found out and closed the gates to stop him. The daemons wouldn’t have had a chance against Crowley—not the way he is now.”

  Possessed by a Watcher? No, not even daemon kind stood a chance against a Watcher. “The question is, how and when did the Watcher possess Crowley?”

  Duncan shrugged.

  “Maybe she’ll tell us.” They waited.

  “Daemon kind will be safe until the Original comes—When the Original comes, she’ll come to thee as three. The beacon burning bright, the shadow hidden from sight, the blighted damned knight. Any of the three may open the portals, but once open, they’re open to all daemons.”

  That didn’t sound too bad.

  “A word of caution, though. The daemons on the other side may not be pleased to see you; it takes strong Magic to create a spell that will survive the witch.”

  But that did. “Shit.”

  Duncan glanced at her. “What’s wrong? What does she mean?”

  “All Magic requires a sacrifice. Small spells require an expenditure of energy and if a witch over-reaches, she damages herself.”

  “Like when the veins in your hands turned black?”

  She nodded. “Big spells, like what she did, require a larger expenditure—a sacrifice.” She didn’t want to know what Satrina had done to seal the portals. Whatever the sacrifice, it must’ve been big.

  After they remained silent a few seconds, Satrina continued. “The leaders of the tribes know what will happen if my spell activates. They understand the necessity of closing the portal to protect everyone in Machon. They agreed to the conditions of the spell to preserve their people. It’s the people you may need to watch out for. Those whose loved ones were part of the sacrifice may harbor some resentment.”

  What was the sacrifice?

  “When my spell activated, all the young in Machon died.”

  Her gaze tripped up to Duncan’s. “That’s one hell of a sacrifice.”

  He cursed. “She didn’t
leave us much to work with, did she?”

  “Wait.” Harry’s face paled. “If a sacrifice was required to close the portal, won’t one be needed to open it?”

  Trina closed her eyes. “Maybe.” It depended on how Satrina had cast the spell. “Let’s hear what else she has to say.”

  “Upon the Original’s return, Magic will return to Machon. The young will return to Machon. Many will love you for that alone. However, once you walk through the portal, you can’t come back. As part of the agreement made with the tribes, you will belong to the daemons. To the Darkness.”

  So, no sacrifice, but a deal made with daemon kind. She pressed her hand to her belly. She had to stay forever? She couldn’t leave, ever?

  “Since you are only a part of one soul, only one of you must always be in Machon. When you’re ready to proceed, stand before me and I will give you the key.”

  Ready to proceed? Either she or Lilith or the Knight—whoever that was—had to remain in Machon at all times. She couldn’t make that decision for Lilith. If she walked through the portal, she had to do so expecting she’d never leave. “I don’t even know what’s on the other side. I can’t make a decision like—” She snapped her fingers.

  What the hell should she do? She couldn’t go home—if Haven House had even survived the Nephilim. She didn’t want to tell the coven she’d refused to do her part. She didn’t want to risk facing Crowley again without knowing how to beat him. Shit. Maybe this was what the Hierophant signified—the card indicated a sacrifice was needed to get close to her goal—and if she walked through the portal, she’d sacrifice her freedom, her life here to get to the Watcher. “I promised myself I’d fix this.” Armageddon. Crowley. The Nephilim. If she couldn’t carry out her own promises, what the hell did she have left?

  Duncan touched her shoulder to draw her attention. “We don’t have to do this. Not tonight.”

  “I let Crowley get away. Twice.” The night he tried to kidnap Lilith, and again on Smyrna Island. “We have to know how to beat him and that means talking to one of the Watchers.” She reached into her pocket, holding tight to his handkerchief. “You don’t have to come.”