Darkness Unleashed

by Belinda Boring

“Save the theatrics. You’ll need all your energy for what comes next.”

  That caught her attention. “Going to accept my deal, lover?”

  “No, but I have a witch who’s going to reunite me with mine. Enjoy the limited time left you have on earth, Amber, because it’s your time that’s running out.”

  She railed against her restraints in an attempt to escape, but it was futile. Leaving her alone in the room, a coldness crept up and over me. Once upon a time, I’d loved that woman, at least thought I had; but the creature now cackling to herself and throwing about threats, she was a far cry from the innocent she’d been back then.

  “You look like you need a drink,” Devlin commented.

  “Not until Darcy’s back in my arms,” I replied. Her return was my sole focus.

  My wife first, then this latest threat for power—second.

  “Okay, then let’s go and prepare.”

  Walking away from the interrogation room, we joined Daniel.

  Every part of me promised that there was still time left to save Darcy, despite the faint ticking in the back of my mind.

  Tick.

  Tock.

  Chapter Six

  Amber

  He thought he was so damn smart.

  He thought he could find a way to stop the inevitable.

  When his plans backfire and Mason loses his precious Darcy, that’s when I’d get my revenge. Payback was a bitch. And, in this case, her name was Amber. I was beyond loving him now—so far away from those tender adolescent dreams of being cherished and revered. Those childish fantasies were just that—childish. They didn’t translate into the cruel, harsh world of reality.

  It was eat or be eaten. If you didn’t seize power for yourself, someone else would come along and use it against you. The idea of happily-ever-after with knights in shining armor was a fallacy, falsehoods told to placate the weak. I’d been spoon-fed those lies by my mother as she dressed me in pretty, pink-laced party dresses and curled my blonde hair into ringlets.

  All her smiles and sugary sweet promises meant nothing, once I realized the truth. She wanted me to believe my father was her prince and that he treated her like the queen she said I’d become. But I heard the yelling behind closed doors. I witnessed the cowering that came when he ordered her to obey him, or else.

  Mason was meant to be my way out of that life—my reward for enduring the heavy-handed teachings of my father. He was my destiny, my fairytale lie come true. Instead, he’d become something else.

  Mason O’Connor had taught me the true meaning to life and it wasn’t love or any similar ideology.

  It was to never let yourself become vulnerable. To never let them see they have you running scared. Even if it meant pretending you still had the upper hand. Wishes were for the feeble-minded. If I wanted something, it was up to me to get it. No one would ever be responsible for my happiness.

  Even that was overrated. There was only so much the light and fluffy emotion could do before you woke up one morning, aware that you were trapped and hadn’t known it.

  Power—that was the only thing worth obtaining.

  Mason had led me down that path of discovery and I would never be helpless again.

  I would bow to no man. They would all crumble at my feet.

  Even as I was led from the room where Devlin, and later Mason, had interrogated me, I held my head up high, knowing that this time I had the upper hand. Sure, they could kill my body, and there was a strong chance of that happening, but all I had to do was hold on long enough for the bitch inside me to die.

  With Darcy dead and beyond their reach, all of this would be worth it—the ultimate display—proving it was me who held the power, and that Mason was wrong to ever deny me. He’d regret that choice forever, knowing he killed his Darcy because he refused to accept my deal. It would haunt him.

  And I was good with that. If I couldn’t have him, neither would she.

  “She’s been quiet, you know? I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already . . . oops, slipped away,” I taunted. Devlin’s response was to roughly push me through an open door and into a room that held a large pentagram etched into the stone floor. We were deeper beneath the council buildings, somewhere near the dungeons where I knew Helena was being kept. I didn’t ask about my accomplice at all, confident she knew how to handle herself. I knew why I was being brought down here, why Vivien stood in her ceremonial robes, no emotions flickering over her features.

  Cuffs were chained to the ground where four of the pentagram’s points were carved—the silvered manacles reserved for me. They were going to perform powerful magic to remove me and send my spirit on to the other side. Part of me whispered not to worry, but past experience had taught me to never rule any possibility out.

  Kill me here, today, and I’ll rise tomorrow. I’d served Helena and her master faithfully, willingly following their plans and doing everything I’d been asked. That kind of loyalty was always rewarded. I’d be back with a vengeance.

  “Lie down,” Devlin ordered. Mason watched from behind, his blue eyes steeled and cold.

  “Say please and maybe I will.” There was no way I was going to make this easy for any of them.

  Devlin turned to Mason and something passed between them—a knowing look and a brusque nod. “Suit yourself.”

  Moving quickly, he slammed my back hard onto the stone floor, my breath forced out of my lungs as Devlin’s action winded me. Before I could retaliate, the sound of each manacle lock clicking rang through the air and once again, I was trapped.

  “I wonder how Darcy would appreciate this kind of manhandling? The way you just bruised up her flawless skin. Hmmm, let me think . . . nope, still no reply. I guess it’s just me inside here now, boys.” Peering up at the hardened faces of Mason and Devlin, I delighted in seeing the tiniest flicker of alarm in Mason’s eyes. “And no goodbyes or sappy messages for you, either. Wow, I guess she didn’t really care, lover.” Pouting, I couldn’t help laughing as he snarled.

  “Can we gag her?” Mason questioned, his anger dripping from his tone.

  “I’m game. Vivien?” Devlin asked the witch, who now entered my vision. “Does she need to even be awake for this? I can compel her.”

  “I need her awake to know whether the spell is working, but I’m not opposed to preventing her from talking. In fact, I think it might be for the best.” Tugging at the thick golden cord she used to tie her robes closed, Vivien handed it to Mason. “The honor is all yours.”

  “Oh, sweetie, foreplay before eviction . . . you’ve thought of everything. I wish I’d know you were kinky like this before. We could’ve had so much fun together.”

  “Shut up,” he ordered firmly. While his hands weren’t rough when he held my head up from the ground to place part of the cord around me, there was definitely none of the tenderness he was known for. I grinned happily when he shoved the thick cord between my teeth, not wanting him to think it changed anything.

  I hadn’t been lying about Darcy. She’d been silent for a while now, a wonderful sign that she’d slipped away knowing her protector and savior had failed. As far as I was concerned, this was purely for entertainment. I refused to wince as he tightened the knot, the action yanking on my hair and causing my eyes to water slightly.

  “Too tight?” It was his turn to smile. He knew I couldn’t respond, but it didn’t stop him from crouching beside me that little bit longer. “Darcy’s not gone. She’s just waiting because she knows she’s not alone. Prepare to die, Amber. Again.”

  Standing up, he nodded to Vivien, signaling the ball was in her court. I’d met the witch a few times before, but she’d never taken any particular interest in me like she had with Darcy. I’d seen, on occasions, the closeness they shared with each other, a relationship that was stronger than any friendship I’d ever had with someone.

  It was just one more reason to hate the person who stole Mason from me and remove her from existence. Everyone loved her. She had the life that should’ve
been mine. It went beyond petty jealousy. Somehow she’d cheated her way into the world I’d strived so long to be part of, slamming the door behind her and shutting me out.

  Yet, here I was, getting the last laugh. Even as I lay manacled to the floor.

  I knew something they didn’t.

  I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Darcy may still be holding on, but in the end it didn’t matter. It took great power and preparation to complete the possession spell, and instinct told me Vivien wouldn’t be enough. In the beginning, Helena and Vivien had been in the same room. Helena had prepared the way by tattooing Darcy with a fake spell to camouflage her true intentions. Even though Vivien had performed the healing spell alone, it was that later incantation, by Helena, that had sealed the deal.

  Two witches were needed to forge it.

  Two witches were needed to break it.

  How glorious it was that the only two witches strong enough to save Darcy wouldn’t be cooperating, due to Helena currently locked in her own private dungeon.

  Sometimes irony was beautiful in all her tragedy.

  Chapter Seven

  Mason

  Vivien had warned me about what to expect.

  She’d placed heavy emphasis on the importance of not letting my emotions take over. It would never be my intention, but she also knew that when it came to Darcy, reason and understanding sometimes flew out the window. It would be difficult controlling my wolf and his need to charge forth and prevent our mate from being hurt further, but even he seemed to realize the gravity of the moment.

  We were running out of time and every single second counted. A slight slip up, a well-intended intervention, or misguided attempt to save Darcy, and we’d lose her. There was no room for error or heroics. Vivien had given us the option of waiting outside and having Devlin aid her through the ritual; but for me, that would’ve made things worse.

  Not knowing what was happening inside, not being there the moment Darcy’s eyes flew open and she returned whole—it was unacceptable. My heart couldn’t take the waiting. My time in the silver cage, while Devlin converted her to part-vampire, had been torturous enough.

  I could behave and keep myself under control. I had to.

  There was no other option.

  “What would you like me to do?” I asked, now standing to avoid contact with Amber. It was unnatural to look down and see such venom shining from my mate’s eyes. I’d seen her angry before, and even been on the receiving end of that temper, but never anything of this magnitude. Something twisted had happened inside Amber, and I refused to be blamed for it.

  We each are given choices, knowing full well the consequences that come with each. And while it’s tempting to blame someone else for our downfalls and shortcomings, this fell firmly on her own shoulders and conscience. If she even had one.

  The Amber who currently possessed my wife was a far cry from the Amber I knew and my parents betrothed me to. The one who squirmed beneath my feet, attempting to loosen the manacle bolts, was a bitter shell of that person.

  She’d evolved into something so dark, I feared there’d be no redemption for her but through death. Maybe then she’d find the peace she craved. Maybe then, she could lay this obsession of hers down and leave it behind.

  “Help Devlin light and place these candles around the pentagram so they form a circle. Make sure that you place these ones at each point.”

  Devlin handed me a few and we began our task in silence, the only noise in the room was the sound of Amber’s muffled complaints. As I set each waxed pillar in its position, wisps of clarity began dissolving my fear. I’d never failed in finding a way out of our problems. Even as things exploded around us, the ones I loved facing danger and threats, we’d managed to come out the victors.

  I refused to believe this would be any different. It might be a close call, a lot closer than I’d ever choose to risk, but it didn’t stop me from hoping that by tonight, Darcy would be in my arms and this horror would be over. We’d pause long enough to pack our bags and then I’d take her far away from all of this—the reminders of what she’d endured and how close we’d come to losing each other, for our long over-due honeymoon. I was ready for some alone time with my mate.

  A few months should be enough.

  “Done,” I announced, the last of the lit candles forming the circle.

  “Good. I need to perform the incantation, so both of you must remain silent and help me by focusing your intentions on the magic I conjure.”

  We all moved, arranging our positions so we created a large triangle outside the encircled pentagram. Vivien had shared earlier that while Devlin and I weren’t witches, by standing in the three-sided shape, we created a triumvirate of power. Vivien was able to tap lightly into both the vampire and werewolf psyche and glean whatever she needed.

  It showed the level of trust I had in our friend, because it wasn’t a request I granted lightly—or ever.

  Around the cord in her mouth, Amber began laughing, the noise distorted and sinister sounding. There was mirth in her eyes as if we amused her somehow. Clenching my jaw, I tried my best to tune out her irritating jests, closing my eyes to center myself. What came next would require me to remember that while the body shackled was that of my mate’s, it wasn’t her spirit that mocked us.

  “Ready?” Vivien asked, glancing between Devlin and me. We both nodded. Taking the athame she’d been holding, Vivien quickly slashed across her palm, blood instantly pooling before dripping over the side and down her arms. The flash of pain I knew she’d had to feel didn’t make her hesitate.

  Tightening her fist and holding her blood-drenched hand over Amber, Vivien began her impassioned chanting in Celtic. The air thickened and crackled as each word layered heavy waves of power over the pentagram.

  Sweat trickled down the side of my face. But not once did I shift my attention from my wife’s body.

  Bring her back to me.

  It’s not her time.

  I need her here with me.

  Bring her home.

  The mantra of positive intentions did more than ground me to the spell. It also secured me in the moment where no flights of uncertainty could wear away at my resolve. This would work.

  No doubts.

  Absolute conviction.

  The energy that swirled about the room grew heavier, pressing against me to the point where each breath became laborious. Finally, allowing myself to look away, I saw Devlin was also struggling against the onslaught of power filling the air. Only Vivien remained unaffected, her life source still dripping to the ground, forming a puddle by Darcy’s body.

  There was no sound coming from her mouth now, her lips moving rapidly, over and over again. If I didn’t know the witch had a heart of gold and was a dear friend, I’d have made a mental note to never cross paths with her. Tendons in her neck tensed as magic radiated from her, creating a glowing aura that mixed with the flickering candlelight. As eerie as the illumination was, with the different shadows dancing across the walls, I knew I was witnessing something profound.

  This was Vivien at her finest.

  It gave strength to my hope, renewing my own silent offering of help as I continued my own mantra.

  Bring her back to me.

  Bring her home.

  Temptation to see what changes were occurring within Darcy became too hard to resist. I wanted to catch that first telltale sign that the spell was working. I wanted to see that moment when Amber faded away into nothingness and my mate took her rightful place in her own body.

  What I witnessed, instead, was gloating.

  Amber was unaffected as she stared at me unflinchingly. Nothing was happening and she knew it. While this was all impressive, she knew that no matter how much blood was spilt or how long Vivien chanted, she was still rooted deeply into Darcy’s body and wouldn’t be budging any time soon.

  This was all just for show.

  Darcy was still dying.

  “Stop!” I cried out, breaking my pr
omise to remain quiet. Devlin lunged to stop me as I stepped over the candles and into the pentagram, shattering the ritual.

  “Mason!” Vivien gasped, the magic she’d been wielding snapped back, causing her to stagger when it released her. I could see the toll the spell had taken on her, and as much as it pained me to interrupt, time wasn’t on our side.

  “No, wait!” Throwing my hand out to push Devlin back, I dropped to my knees beside Amber and ripped the gag from her mouth. “What do you know?” I thundered.

  “About what?” she answered smugly. My fingers itched to wrap themselves around her neck and choke the truth from her. Her saving grace was it was Darcy’s face peering back at me. Had she been in her own body, I would’ve ended her life right there and then.

  “Don’t mess with me, Amber. The spell isn’t working.”

  “Oh, you finally noticed, huh?” She practically looked bored lying there with Vivien’s pooled blood inching slowly toward her.

  “Mason, I just needed extra time. The magic was strong. We would’ve been successful.” Vivien’s voice barely hid her disappointment.

  “Strong, but not enough to evict me. Sorry, dear, but you don’t have enough juice to do that. Guess you’re all stuck with me. No more Darcy.”

  Devlin lunged at the same time I did, holding me back from something I knew I’d later regret. Amber knew exactly what her taunts cost me, how each word riled up the burning fury just aching to be released. “Do we have anyone who can come assist you, Vivien? Someone from the coven, maybe, who can lend their magic to yours?” Devlin asked, still gripping my shoulders.

  “The only one I know whose power matches my own is currently locked in one of the Council’s dungeons. I highly doubt she could be persuaded to abort her plans and help.”

  “Morgan, what about Morgan?” I was clutching at straws, but my heart already knew the outcome. Morgan was a witch-for-hire, who dabbled in black magic. She was elusive, especially after her last run in with Devlin over a recent murder.

  Devlin’s response confirmed it. “She’ll be long gone by now, or lying low. Besides, we don’t have enough time to flush her out of her hidey hole.”