Satisfied that either reason would explain the spirit’s presence, he moved on to their conversation, focusing on the spirit’s statement, “When rage becomes us, we become rage.”
Of course he understood the concept, because it was intrinsic to his race. Warlocks had volatile tempers, and their anger manifested in a wind. From childhood, they were trained to control both their temper and the wind, because if they were angry enough, their rage had the potential to destroy everything around them. In other words, if they let themselves become enraged, they became a dangerous force.
But what did that have to do with his and Sarah’s burns? And why did the spirit claim it was his fault? What had happened? And, dammit, why couldn’t he remember?
The burn on his chest chose that moment to throb, and he cursed. The answer was so obvious. Why hadn’t he seen it before now?
It had to be the triangle. It had made him lose two hours in the repository, and he had no memory of what had happened during that time. It had to have also caused the burns and his new memory loss.
Fear slithered down his spine, and he shivered. If the triangle could make him harm someone without realizing it, then the talisman had to be gaining power. And it could only do that if someone had the circle.
Memory stirred at the thought, and he remembered Sarah telling him that a man by the name of John Butler had the circle. Suddenly the floodgates to Sebastian’s mind flew open. As he relived the moments of their last conversation and remembered the inner voice prodding him into anger and then into fury, his blood ran cold.
When he hit the point where he had reached for his triangle to verify she wasn’t lying about Butler, his memory again disappeared. No matter how hard he tried to push it further, he couldn’t remember anything beyond that point.
“But I don’t need to know more,” he said. “The voice was the talisman, and it knew exactly what buttons to push to manipulate me. It took control of me without my even realizing what was going on.”
Horrified, he glanced toward Sarah, whispering, “What did it make me do to you?”
His gaze returned to her burned hand. He felt both aghast at and ashamed of hurting her. His only consolation was that he had suffered the same pain.
Suddenly he saw her hand twitch, and he realized that she was waking up. He also knew that the longer he was around her, the more danger she’d be in. He decided that the moment she woke up, he would tell her everything, even if it meant revealing the coven, so she would give him her triangle and he could leave.
IT IS TIME FOR you to come back, Sarah.
As Wanága’s voice intruded into her unconsciousness, Sarah tried to burrow further into the haven of darkness.
His voice merely followed her. The curse has started, Sarah, and you are the guardian.
I don’t want to be the guardian! she cried, stubbornly clinging to the darkness.
But Wanága’s invasion had disturbed her sanctuary, and she became aware of a hot, searing pain. It was so intense that she almost retreated back into unconsciousness to escape it. She knew, however, that Wanága would just come after her again, so she used the mental techniques Leonard had taught her to manage pain.
When she had eased it to a dull ache, she let her mind follow it to its source. It was in her hand, and she carefully flexed her fingers, trying to determine the cause.
Her eyes flew open when the wicáhmunga said, “Sarah? You moved your hand. Are you awake? Are you okay?”
She was startled to find herself looking up at the cave’s roof. How did I end up on the ground? Of course. I collapsed when I closed down.
Is that what’s wrong with my hand? Did I hurt it when I fell? She started to raise her hand so she could look at it, but she stopped when she felt something move on her chest.
A moment later, she felt Willow’s tongue against her cheek, and she gasped, “Willow! You’re all right!”
“Of course she’s all right. I told you I just stunned her.”
Raising her uninjured hand to pet the snake, she rolled her head so she could look at the wicáhmunga. He still sat beside the fire, but there was something different about him.
Before she could pinpoint what it was, he asked, “Are you in a great deal of pain?”
“No,” she answered, realizing it was his expression that was different. He looked solemn, almost contrite.
“Are you sure?”
When she nodded, he said, “Thank heavens. How did I burn you?”
She blinked at him. “Burn me?”
“Your hand,” he replied. “How did I burn it?”
Bewildered, she raised her hand to look at it. When she saw the burn, she stared at it in disbelief. No wonder it hurt so badly. It was one of the worst burns she’d ever seen!
Easing Willow off her chest, she sat up and glared at him. “You did this to me?”
He looked down at the fire. “Yes.”
“Why?” she demanded angrily.
“I don’t know,” he answered, still looking at the fire.
“You burn someone, and you don’t know why? What kind of a monster are you?”
His head shot up, and he scowled at her. “I’m not a monster. I . . . Dammit! I don’t know why I did it. I don’t even know how I did it, and if it will make you feel any better, I have the same burn.”
He held up his hand, and when Sarah saw his wound, she frowned in confusion. Why would he burn himself? It didn’t make sense.
“Do you also have a burn on your . . . chest?” he asked hesitantly.
She automatically pressed a hand to the front of her shirt. When there was no pain, she drew in a relieved breath. After releasing it, she said, “No.”
“Good,” he replied, as his own hand rose toward his chest.
As Sarah watched it hover over the triangle, her mind flipped back in time. Just before her vision of John Butler, the wicáhmunga’s triangle had been glowing red hot, and she’d seen wisps of smoke rising from his chest. She’d also smelled burning flesh, and lightning had struck his hand when he’d touched the triangle. That must have caused the burn on his hand. But how had she gotten burned?
“You don’t remember anything about your burns?” she questioned.
When he shook his head, she wasn’t surprised. When he’d touched the triangle, she’d sensed that he didn’t know what he was doing.
She started to tell him about the lightning, but then she recalled the horrible vision of her people’s slaughter. John Butler said it was what the wicáhmunga would do if he got all three pieces of the talisman. She wasn’t sure if she believed him. The wicáhmunga had shown a propensity for evil, but John Butler was the one who had gouged out eyes, she noted with a nauseated shudder. But if John Butler was right, then she’d be foolish to give the wicáhmunga any information about the triangle.
Instead, she closed her eyes and relived those few moments when the wicáhmunga had reached for the triangle, trying to figure out how she’d been burned.
I called out a warning, she thought, but I was too late. As his fingers curled around the triangle, my mind was thrust instantly into the vision of the dead woman.
Except that wasn’t exactly true, she realized, as the scene finished playing out in her mind. Just before she’d been caught up in the vision, she’d seen a streak of light coming toward her. Now she realized it must have been a bolt of lightning.
She opened her eyes and stared down at her hand in bewilderment. “But what does it mean?”
When it is time for you to know all, you will understand, Wanága replied.
Dammit, Wanága! If you can’t give me a better answer than that, don’t say anything at all.
Of course, he didn’t respond, and she glanced up at the wicáhmunga. He was staring at her with such a look of contrition that her heart went out to him.
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She quickly reeled it back in. Until she could prove otherwise, she had to consider him a threat, and she was going to have to figure out whether he was friend or enemy fast. John Butler said he’d be here soon. Before he arrived, she had to either destroy the wicáhmunga or make him her ally.
Chapter 6
Evil Explored
SEBASTIAN HAD resolved to tell Sarah everything, but as they stared at each other over the fire, he couldn’t decide how to begin. Unaccustomed to being at a loss for words, he rose and walked to the cave’s opening, startled to see it was still night. So much had happened since his arrival that he felt as if he’d been here for days. But when he looked at the moon, its position assured him it had only been a few hours.
He tucked his uninjured hand into his pants pocket and braced the other hand against the opening’s granite arch. When a breeze touched him, he was surprised to feel gooseflesh spring up on his arms. It was midsummer, but compared to the humid torpor of Pennsylvania’s summer nights, it was cold here. He found the coolness refreshing, however, and he drew in a deep breath of the clean, crisp air, redolent with the scent of pine and earthy, virgin forest.
Releasing the breath, he knew he had to start communicating with Sarah. Since he still wasn’t sure how to begin, he decided to just start talking.
As he continued to look outside, he said, “I haven’t been completely honest with you, Sarah.”
“Why, wicáhmunga, are you saying you lied to me?” she mocked.
At her sarcasm, his temper stirred. He quickly tamped it down. A show of anger would only alienate her further and delay him from his goal, which was to get her triangle and get the hell out of here.
“I didn’t lie to you. I gave you a condensed version of the truth,” he said, turning around to face her. “I told you that I don’t know the exact extent of the talisman’s power, and that’s true. There is, however, a strong possibility that it’s some kind of a . . . doomsday device, that its purpose is to destroy humankind.”
She blinked at him, her expression incredulous. “That’s absurd. What would this talisman possibly gain by destroying everyone?”
He smiled grimly. “You’re applying humanistic qualities to an inanimate, albeit magical, object. It isn’t out to gain anything. It is simply fulfilling the destiny for which it was created.”
“That’s even more preposterous,” she stated, frowning at him. “Why would someone create an object that would destroy mankind? What would they hope to gain?”
“I have no idea, Sarah. The talisman is almost a thousand years old, if not older, so who knows what its creator planned when he made it. But how the talisman came into being isn’t important. What matters is stopping it, and the only way I can do that is to gather all three pieces and dispose of them appropriately. That’s why I’ve come for your triangle. I need it to disable the talisman for good.”
“Forget it, wicáhmunga. I’ll never give you my triangle,” she responded vehemently.
“Why not?” Sebastian gasped in disbelief. He’d anticipated her questioning him, even arguing with him, but he hadn’t expected a flat refusal.
“Because you’ve just confirmed that Seamus Morpeth’s curse is true,” she replied. “He said that when his triangle joined with its other pieces, my people would be no more. To keep that from happening, I have to make sure the pieces never come together.”
“Dammit, Sarah!” he yelled, his temper snapping, despite his resolve to hold onto it. “We’re not dealing with an issue that just affects your people. We’re dealing with a potentially catastrophic magical object that must be stopped forever, or every man, woman, and child on the face of the earth may die!”
Instead of responding, she lowered her gaze to his chest. With a feeling of trepidation, he also looked down. Again, the triangle had taken on a rosy hue that began to fade the moment he looked at it. This time, he knew for sure it wasn’t a reflection of the fire. So why was it glowing?
He thought back to when the phenomenon had occurred before and realized he’d also been angry with Sarah then. That’s why it was glowing! It reflected his mood, and magical objects always displayed anger as the color red.
He jerked his head up when Sarah declared, “Your triangle has its hold on you, wicáhmunga, which is another reason why I won’t cooperate with you. You can’t be trusted.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said impatiently. “The triangle doesn’t have a hold on me. It’s just reflecting my emotions, and that’s a common trait among magical objects.”
She eyed him dubiously. “And is it common for magical objects to burn their possessor?”
“Of course that’s not common,” he stated, growing more impatient. He didn’t have time to discuss the complicated idiosyncrasies of magical devices. “But we aren’t dealing with an ordinary object.”
“My point, exactly,” she said. “I also have to wonder why you continue to wear the triangle. Common sense says you would take it off to protect yourself from further injury. So why haven’t you done that, wicáhmunga? Is it because the triangle won’t let you take it off? Or is it because you’re in collusion with it?”
“Neither,” he snapped, although he wasn’t as irritated with her as he was with the situation. He couldn’t believe he was having to justify his actions to a mortal. “I can’t take it off before I’ve stopped the talisman, or it will automatically return to Sanctuary.”
She blinked again. “Sanctuary?”
“It’s a town in Pennsylvania.”
“You’re telling me that if you take off your triangle, it’s going to go back to Pennsylvania on its own? As in, poof, it’s gone?” When he nodded, she frowned. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re trying to play, wicáhmunga, but as I keep telling you, I am not stupid.”
“I know you’re not stupid, Sarah, and I’m telling you the truth.” She still looked skeptical, so he said, “If you don’t believe me, read my mind.”
“So that’s what you’re up to,” she gasped angrily, as she surged to her feet. “You want me to read your mind so you can control me again. Well, forget it, wicáhmunga. I never make the same mistake twice.”
“What in hell are you talking about?” he asked, bewildered.
She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him accusingly. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, and I assure you, you will never have the opportunity to humiliate me like that again.”
At her reference to humiliation, he realized she was talking about the fantasy lovemaking. He felt a guilty flush crawl into his cheeks. He’d never treated anyone so callously, so why had he debased her like that?
The voice made you do it.
He raked a hand through his hair, wanting to deny his conscience’s charge, but it was true. The same voice that had prodded him into fury, causing him to somehow burn Sarah and himself, had also taunted him into carrying the fantasy lovemaking to the extreme.
His stomach churned at the admission. Was Sarah right? Did the talisman have a hold on him?
Again he wanted to deny the charge. He had to allow, however, that the talisman had a strong influence over him or it wouldn’t be able to manipulate his emotions.
Was that how it had corrupted Seamus? he wondered, a frisson of alarm racing through him. Had it started with a subtle exploitation of his feelings, gradually poisoning him with its evil until he was beyond salvation?
Sebastian knew it was probable. He also knew that since the talisman was able to influence him, he should take off the triangle and let it return to Sanctuary. But if he did that, the coven would think something had happened to him, and with his magic gone, he couldn’t tell them otherwise. Once the triangle appeared, Lucien, as high priest, would take on the mission. Like Sebastian, he’d put on the triangle to locate the other pieces, and he’d fall under the talis
man’s influence.
No, he didn’t dare send the triangle back until his magic returned and he could contact Lucien. But if he stayed with Sarah while wearing the triangle, he could be placing her in jeopardy. The talisman had already made him burn her, and he suspected that when it came to the object, that was a minor transgression.
Feeling torn, he studied Sarah, who continued to glare at him accusingly. Although his logic insisted he had to go before he inadvertently harmed her again, his instincts said he’d be placing her in more danger if he left. What were his instincts picking up on that he wasn’t consciously aware of?
Unfortunately, he didn’t know, and he wasn’t about to leave until he did, because he always trusted his instincts. He also knew that if he stayed he had to address Sarah’s grievance about his sexual debasement of her.
He felt another guilty flush heat his cheeks, and he heaved a sigh before saying, “I apologize for treating you so . . . crassly earlier, Sarah. It was unconscionable, and I assure you that it won’t happen again.”
“I’ve already said that, wicáhmunga,” she muttered.
“So you have,” he replied wryly. “Since we’ve finally found something that we agree on, do you think you could call me Sebastian?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because my people consider names blessed, and we do not bless our enemies.”
Sebastian started to reiterate that he was not her enemy. He stopped himself, however, realizing that if he were in her place, he wouldn’t believe him. After all, he’d threatened to strangle her when he escaped from the rattlers. He’d threatened to kill her pet snake. He’d sexually demeaned her and he’d burned her hand. He was lucky she hadn’t pushed him off the nearest cliff.
Stuffing his hand back into his pocket, he said, “Look, Sarah, I realize that we haven’t had the most propitious beginning, and I accept the majority of the blame for that. We do, however, share a common goal—to keep the talisman from destroying our people. Can’t we find a way to work together?”
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