by Eden Rivers
“Nothing, then. We failed.” Her heart felt battered, torn by the grief and fear of a child she’d never met. The taste of defeat all but choked her.
“You can still hear him, can’t you.” Alec settled beside her on the mound of rumpled blankets, scented with the sweet oil they’d spilled last night as they’d attempted to mingle their magic. It looked like they’d only succeeded in mingling their bodies.
“Yes, but faint. I can’t for the life of me tell where he is, or who he’s with. And he doesn’t seem able to hear me. I feel so helpless.” Damn, she hated that word. Hated the feeling, too. “Since it appears we failed miserably at altering our gifts last night, I’m at a loss as to why I’m picking all this up. The child, his parents’ deaths…”
“Actually, we haven’t established last night didn’t change things for you.” Zach smiled, and for a moment, she wished they could forget this entire mess and curl up together right here on the pile of blankets again. “Just that Alec and I didn’t manage a power swap. We know you’re at least a bit changed, because of your aura.”
That got her attention. “Explain.”
“Let it out and see for yourself. Zach and I noticed last night, but your eyes were squeezed shut pretty tight at the time.”
Warily, she let her power rise to the surface, and then let it spread past the boundaries of her skin in a wash of pure, healthy violet. No sickly blue shades, no dark smudges or holes. Just rich, glowing light. She stood and twirled around for the joy of feeling the energy move with her, and Alec and Zach smiled indulgent smiles.
Her heart hammering against her ribs, Sky cupped her palm upward and urged the energy into a firm ball, only to duck as sparks of light shot off the ceiling and fizzled out amidst a cloud of dust. “Fuck!”
Tamping down on her aura, she paced over to the dirty window and stared out at the pines. Can you hear me? Calling to the child, she tried to get a fix on his direction. Her gifts might still be broken beyond repair, but her psychic talents were stronger than ever. If she could just figure out why she’d latched onto this lost little soul, maybe she’d be able to help.
“It’s a process, Skylark.” Alec walked up behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck. “Mending takes time.”
She attempted to shove him away, but Zach cuddled up to her on her right, sandwiching her between two hard, stubborn bodies. They rocked her between them as she glared out the window, as if the pines could offer some explanation for this morning’s disturbing events.
* * * * *
Jaimis smiled indulgently at Nicole as he hung the string of diamonds around her neck. She trembled before him as he latched the necklace, setting the stones shimmering at her throat. He couldn’t say whether her startling beauty or her fear appealed to him more.
“Why, dear, no need to fret. I’ve only asked the others to bring you to me so we have a chance to get to know each other better. Power such as yours deserves recognition, don’t you think? Not many could cause an explosion from that distance.”
As she looked up at him ‑‑ and the wee thing hardly stood more than five feet tall despite her awesome magical ability ‑‑ she seemed to be grasping for an appropriate response. Jaimis smiled again, and the unpleasant stretching sensation where scars riddled the right side of his face deepened his resolve. No one crossed him without paying a blood price.
“Don’t tell me you don’t like my gift?”
Having long since tired of using dull rocks to key his power-dampening spells, he delighted in finding decorative keystones. The diamonds gracing Nicole’s naked body were a stroke of brilliance. The gems graced the delicate swell of her breasts with their glory, shimmering above her heaving bosom as her breath stuttered fast and ragged. Delighting in the scent of her fear, he felt his groin tighten in anticipation, but that would have to wait for later. After he’d dealt with the boy.
He’d secured her wrists behind her back with leather cords, and her chest thrust forward, forced into a position that displayed her pert, ruby dark nipples to their best advantage. The scent of leather, and the appreciation for its cruel bite around her wrists, sent blood flooding into his cock. But the spell that stole her power came with the kiss of diamonds at her throat, and the brilliant weaving of magic served as an even greater aphrodisiac.
“I plan to keep you, my pet. Until I grow tired of you. Cunning like yours should be studied, don’t you think? I learn a trick or two from each of my followers. The dampening spell, for example…” Jaimis trailed his fingers along the string of diamonds, and then grabbed a fistful of Nicole’s thick, auburn hair, his cock swelling against his leather pants as she shivered under his touch.
“Why, that ill-fated little witch Skyler, the very same one you frightened off yesterday with your impulsive pyrotechnics, taught me the binding spell with which I’ve neutralized your gifts.” He yanked her hair, forcing her head back until she whimpered. “Even the weakest witch has something to offer. And you, my dear, are hardly weak.”
Rash, yes. But not weak. Lifting the doe-eyed beauty and dropping her hard enough that she sprawled flat on the red-satin coverlet on the bed, her arms trapped beneath her back, Jaimis fed on her fear. She’d have herself figured for a blood sacrifice, after her bold disobedience.
But he had the boy for that. No, his beautiful, cunning dark lord could serve him in ways a witch child’s sacrifice of power and blood could not.
“Please, once you’re done with me, let my mother and baby go? Call off the guards you sent to my home? I don’t care anything for myself, but please, they’re no good to you as hostages once I’m gone.”
Disgusted, he straddled her hips and struck her across the jaw with the back of his hand. Groveling represented the worst form of weakness. As she wept, he backed off the bed, turned away from her, and left her to brood over her fate ‑‑ and that of her family ‑‑ slamming the door behind him without bothering to secure the lock. With her hands bound and the keystone for the dampening spell fixed around her neck, Nicole would remain as powerless as a kitten.
The dark lord’s mother and brat meant nothing to him, short of securing Nicole’s cooperation, so long as it lasted. But capturing young Eric, now that had been quite a coup. Jaimis strode through his mansion with the taste of success urging him on. Taking the stone steps to the cellar two at a time, he licked his lips in anticipation.
Brilliant, really, his plans for the boy. Killing Gillian last year during the grand duel had been sweet, and he’d never forget the rage and grief on Sorren’s face as the elder witch watched his lover draw her last breath.
But to succeed, he needed to destroy Sorren. Demoralize the elder witch until he couldn’t summon either sanity or order among his misguided followers. Sorren would have discovered the death of Gillian’s daughter by now and would know that the boy was missing.
The child held formidable psychic talents, unaffected by the dampening spell. Guaranteed to bring Sorren riding in on his white charger, determined to rescue the boy. This time, he’d be ready. The power of so much innocence, absorbed in a blood rite, would secure his dominance. Destroyed by his grief, Sorren would be no match for him.
Clearing the last of the winding stairs, Jaimis called out to Sondra, an attractive witch with ebony curls who he’d chosen to guard the boy’s cell. The glass partition in front of the sealed room offered a clear view of the action as the lad fought off a cluster of rats with the short stick Jaimis had left him. It added to the sport, as it were, giving the child a chance to do battle.
“He’s been fighting all the while.” Sondra linked her arm through Jaimis’s and nodded toward where the fair-headed child swung fiercely at one rat, then another, only to succumb to a fierce bite on his left ankle as a third evaded the blows of the franticly wielded stick.
Dribbles of blood lined the enclosure, and in his other hand, the child gripped the stuffed bear he’d been clasping when the dark lords brought him in ‑‑ the toy which now concealed the dampen
ing stone to quench the lad’s power. Eric wore cotton pajamas, printed with cartoon images of brawny superheroes out of keeping with his thin, bespectacled appearance.
Never taking his eyes off his furry adversaries to glance up at the witches who watched through the thick glass, the child’s face twisted into a mask of pain and fury. Jaimis fed off the residual energy created as the river-smart rodents spilled the boy’s blood.
Ingenious, really. This way he could benefit from the rush of power long before he raised a circle for the blood rite and slit the lad’s throat.
Sondra nuzzled his neck, positioning herself so he couldn’t help but notice her generous breasts under her clingy peach top. Sycophants, all. Without exception, his followers sought to gain from his rise to power. But nonetheless, his sweet guard could prove an enchanting diversion. Taking her arm, he led her away from the glass walls of the cell and bent her to her knees on the cold stone.
She worked eagerly to free his cock, and as her tongue sent pleasure spiraling through him, he listened in on the boy’s terrified psychic chatter.
Brilliant.
Somewhere deep within, a twinge of disquiet bloomed, and Jaimis envisioned his sister’s disapproving frown. Too innocent for a world with so much violence, if Evie had lived, she’d no doubt condemn his means. He shook away his sister's disproval. In the end, it was Evie’s dream he sought to realize. A world where witches could proclaim their talents, protected from crass human elements like the monsters who’d killed her.
Jaimis smiled. Without Sorren standing in his way, his political goals would soon come to fruition.
Chapter Ten
Sky pressed her head against the wood beam and tried to block out the rising panic. Not her own ‑‑ the boy’s. Succumbing to fear wouldn’t help her locate the little lost one. Using every bit of mental control she could muster, she distanced herself from the incessant calling of the witch child and tried to get a read on distance or location.
“Hey.” Zach rubbed her shoulder and moved her hair to brush a kiss across the back of her neck. “Still can’t find him?”
Shrugging, she eased out from under his arm and, never mind the heat and humidity, pulled her sweatshirt hood up to shadow her face. “I hear him calling me, so afraid, but he can’t seem to hear me when I project thoughts. He’s well outside my range. Don’t have any idea why I can even pick up his cry for help ‑‑ although I can tell he has strong psychic powers himself.”
“Right, distraction time, then. Here’s the thing. I know we’re coming up on the point when either you or Alec will try to bolt, determined to do things your own way.” Shifting restlessly, Zach toyed with a thread on the frayed pocket of his denim shorts. “I know that not just with my gift of Sight, but because you’re both stubborn fucks determined to go this alone.”
Sky waved out the window, trying to get Alec’s attention as he chopped firewood. With the world’s greatest migraine eating at her and the soft voice of a frightened boy chattering in her thoughts, this conversation qualified as some sort of colossal last straw. “Zach, I can’t…”
“And this you need to know. In the end, we do things together. Only way to make it out of this alive. So if you run, we follow. If Alec runs, you and I follow. In the end” ‑‑ he gestured toward the window, to include Alec ‑‑ “we fight back-to-back, side by side. The part I thought needs pointing out is that Alec’s starting to trust you. Careful with that. Might end up hurting yourself as much as him if you bolt.”
Fuck this shit! Aggravated as hell at the ex-cop with a knack for guilt trips, Sky started toward the back of the cabin but pulled up short at the sound of strange voices. Not the one in her head ‑‑ though damned if it didn’t worry her that she stopped to wonder ‑‑ these were outside the cabin.
“Calvary’s arrived.” Alec’s cheerful call stayed the rise of edgy power the strangers’ arrival had triggered, and Sky shivered as energy settled uneasily, jangling already frayed nerves.
Stomping toward the door without so much as a backward glance at Zach, she headed out into the morning warmth and scattered patches of sunlight. Alec had abandoned the ax and was helping a trio of witches stack crates against the cabin. With any luck, the supplies would include toilet paper and some decent coffee.
“Scott!” Despite her headache, anxiety for the boy, and the continuing urge to wring Zach’s neck, she grinned at the scruffy, blond-haired man wearing black jeans and a “Coed Naked Lacrosse” T-shirt. She had a soft spot a mile wide for Serena, Lena’s sister, and from what she’d heard, this witch made the willful teen happy. “Any news?”
“Walk down to carry up more supplies with me, and I’ll fill you in. Got a few more crates to move. New plan’s to make this our base camp, come what will.” Scott bent down to brush dirt and old leaves off his jeans, and then straightened and started around the back of the cabin without waiting to see if she’d follow.
A ripple of disapproval radiated off Alec and Zach, both men reluctant to let her out of their sight. Pissed, she shook her head and strode after Scott. Haven’t needed a babysitter since I was nine, and I don’t expect I’ll get into trouble carting supplies to the cabin.
Although the men didn’t follow, Alec sent off an overprotective Watch your back, and she felt irritation brimming through them as she retreated. Glad of the chance to get away ‑‑ they didn’t seem to know what to say to her since she’d acquired the little voice in her head ‑‑ she kicked through piles of rotting leaves and stepped over fallen branches as they headed down the trail toward the dirt road.
“Anyone fill you in on what I saw this morning?”
Scott nodded and delivered a vehement kick to a fallen log. “Zach’s been calling in every hour or so to talk with Sorren. Both of them ‑‑ you know, with the Sight ‑‑ agree all hell’s about to break loose. The people you saw murdered…”
Oh fuck, just get on with it. No one ever stumbled over good news like that. The child wailed, and she paused to reach out again, closing her senses to the world around her and dropping her shields as much as she dared.
Please, where are you?
Eric! I’m Eric!
Where are they keeping you? Anything, Eric, let me see where you are!
Nothing. The forest closed in around her, insects buzzing, leaves rustling in the summer breeze. With her shields down, the clamor of psychic chatter from the guards and other witches nudged her headache into the red zone. As she raised her defenses back into place, shutting out all but the child’s terrified murmurs, she clenched her teeth in frustration.
“Skyler?” Scott doubled back and touched her elbow.
“I’m okay. Tell me. Just spit it out.” She headed toward where his dirt-encrusted, silver SUV was wedged into the narrow opening that served as a road, covered in brush and no doubt bearing more scratches than an hour ago. The backseat held piles of bags and boxes. Looked like they’d be stuck out here for a while.
“The couple who died… You remember Gillian?”
“Of course. How could I possibly forget her?”
Sky shivered as she flashed back to the grand duel, the horrific day when Jaimis captured her and Alec. Reliving the horror, she watched in slow motion as Jaimis lifted his arms, readying his power for an illegal strike after he’d lost the duel. Just as before, her mouth formed a silent O of horror and disbelief as the healer, Gillian, crumpled to the earth like a bag of dry leaves, and Sorren cried out in rage and grief.
Scott didn’t seem to notice she’d slipped away for a moment. “Sorren believes Jaimis ordered the dark lords to strike this morning. The murdered couple, Gillian’s daughter and son-in-law, were powerful witches. But caught off guard like that...” He clenched his fists and kicked at a pile of stones. “They never had a chance. And now, as far as we can tell, Jaimis’s people have their son.”
“Eric?”
“Yes, have you been able to…” Cocking his head to the side as if listening, Scott froze and then shoved Sky so hard she fell
into the side of the SUV on her way to the ground.
Sky felt it too, a sudden quiet in the forest, as if the very trees were holding their breath. Scott motioned for her to stay down, and summoning a channel of power strong enough to raise goose bumps along Sky’s back, he took a few hesitant steps, scanning the surrounding area for signs of danger.
Only a witch could manage to get around the wards they’d set, but Jaimis’s minions seemed to work in packs, a strong witch paired with human thugs. Although she didn’t sense the imprint of a malevolent spell, there was no telling if the disturbance might be human in origin, or what weapons Jaimis’s people might carry.
A rush of power swelled around them, heavy with the signature of death magic. As Scott’s face contorted, he fell and rolled onto his back, his hands grasping his neck. Following the thread of power, Sky traced the spell back to its maker, pushing wildly with her damaged, unpredictable magic. She couldn’t even say what she was trying to do, other than save Scott, but the harder she pushed, the more she felt the original spell double back on the witch who gave it birth.
So be it, then. Pushing harder, she fought to shove the line of smothering magic free of Scott’s neck, her mind thrashing back like a wild thing, determined to save the fallen witch. A strangled scream issued from somewhere deep in the woods, and part of her brain grasped the fact that the witch must be a dark lord, powerful and desperate enough to wield death magic from such a distance.
Then, the dark lord’s spell snapped, imploding with enough force to throw Sky flat on her back, and she felt the death cry of the witch who’d launched the attack. Alec! Zach! We’ve got intruders. Scott’s down.
She crept forward, staying low in case humans with guns lurked nearby, pleading under her breath for Scott to move. But when she reached him, fingers shaking as she felt for a pulse, his skin was as cold as if he’d lain out overnight in the snow.