The Banshee's Embrace

by Victoria Richards

  Her body stiffened.

  "What did you call me, Toby?"

  "Banshee." He gave her a second to process that and then added, "I saw what you did tonight. I know that you pulled Belinda's soul from her."

  "You could see that?" Hope lit up her eyes. "So I'm not crazy?"

  "The jury is still out on your craziness, but I know what I saw. I've been asked to keep an eye on you, too."

  "Why?"

  Toby stroked his beard, debating how much he should tell her. Telling her too much could send her running to the wrong people. Not telling her enough could get her killed. Neither were pleasant to think about.

  "You are special, Jacqueline," he said. "You aren't a full blooded banshee yet. That makes you unique, powerful, and very wanted."

  "I thought banshees were dead spirits," she whispered and sunk down in a chair.

  "They are. And that's why you are so valuable to certain people. You aren't dead, and yet you can steal souls."

  "I don't steal them."

  "Not yet. You haven't learned how."

  She wrapped her arms around herself and then stared at him with her big brown eyes. "What do you mean?"

  "You are a soul stealer, Jacqueline, destined to help people cross beyond the veil and into the next dimension."

  "What about the old woman? Was she a…banshee…too?"

  "Yes."

  "What did she say to you?"

  He warred with himself. The old woman had spoken the truth, but he wasn't sure how Jacqueline would take it. Why was he the one that had to deal with this? With a small growl of frustration, he took a deep breath.

  "Jacqueline, you are going to have to die, and I'm the one who's going to have to kill you."

  Wizard Truths

  Jacqueline gulped and took a step back.

  "Did you say you were going to have to kill me?" She stared at Toby, unable to hide her shock.

  He frowned and stepped towards her. She countered by taking another step away.

  "I think you should stay right there," she said. "I have a cell phone in my pocket, and I'm not afraid to use it."

  "What are you going to do? I could take it from you before you even had a chance to dial." Toby looked amused by her threat.

  "Oh yeah?" Jacqueline pulled the phone out her pocket, trying to ignore how shaky his words made her. "Take that!"

  She threw the phone at Toby's head, childishly pleased when it hit him square in the forehead. The look on his face of pure astonishment would have made her laugh, but right then she decided to use his shock to her advantage and take off running.

  "Oh, shit," she heard him mutter.

  She'd just reach for the handle of the bar's door when a tugging sensation stopped her. Her body moved in slow motion, as if frozen in some sort of invisible gel. Though she tried with all her might, she couldn't seem to reach the door. What was going on?

  Toby walked up next to Jacqueline, unaffected by whatever force held her.

  "Sucks, doesn't it?" He shook her cell phone. "I'm a wizard, Jacqueline. Though I admire your tactic, a cell phone to the head is hardly going to stop me."

  She tried to open her mouth, to say something, but nothing came out.

  "Don't bother trying to talk. This spell kind of puts everything in limbo." Toby stroked his beard and gave a long sigh of frustration. "Look, you didn't give me a chance to explain what I meant. I don't intend to actually murder you tonight or anything like that. So you can relax where that stuff is concerned. But like it or not, you are a banshee and we need to talk a little bit about what that means, how it happened, your husband, and whole bunch of other unpleasant shit that will be tough for you to wrap your mind around."

  Her husband? What did Eric have to do with anything? But even as she thought that, the memory of those crazy sparks she'd seen fly from his hands the night of his death came back to her. She'd tried hard to forget about that stuff, tried to pretend she'd imagined it. Denial held more appeal than facing the fact that something strange had happened to her. But now…

  And what did Toby's ominous words about not murdering her tonight mean? That he would kill her tomorrow? Two weeks from now?

  "I'm going to release you from limbo, but I want you to sit down. Give me a chance to explain." He waved his hand in front of her saying, "Release."

  Immediately the tugging sensation stopped. Jacqueline breathed deeply and turned to Toby. He gave her a small smile and gestured for her to have a seat. Wary, she followed his direction, trying hard to fight off the exhaustion and dizziness that threatened to overtake her.

  "Now let's start from the beginning. When did you first become a banshee?" he asked, sitting down opposite her.

  "A year ago today." She watched him nod, as if this wasn't really news to him. "This is the anniversary of my husband's death."

  "I'm sorry," Toby's voice was a low rumble. "How did it happen? I remember reading about it in the papers, but the details are fuzzy. He was a cop, right?"

  Jacqueline nodded.

  "I'd been out with some friends, a girl's night thing. When I turned on to my street, I noticed right away that something was off. It was raining, but…well, it looked like it was raining only at my house." She paused and rubbed at her temples. "I didn't know what to make of it. I pulled into our driveway, and just as I was getting out of my car, a man grabbed me."

  She shuddered at the memory and Toby leaned forward. "Go on, Jacqueline. Tell me the rest. I'll believe you."

  She gave him a half smile. "Sometimes I don't even believe it."

  "Give me your hand," Toby instructed her. "I can make this easier."

  Hesitant, Jacqueline held out her hand. Though he grasped it gently, a small spark of electricity jumped at their touch. Surprise crossed his face, but he gripped her hand tighter.

  "What was that?" she asked.

  "Ever been touched by someone and then gotten a little shock? That means they have some magic in them somewhere."

  "That happens to everyone though."

  "Everyone has a little bit of the gift." He smiled at her doubt. "I can't believe your husband never explained any of this to you."

  "Why would he?" Eric had been a cop and while he would talk about his day, he'd never been graphic in the details. She'd never wanted him to be.

  "Because he was a wizard like me."

  Her eyes widened. Eric? A wizard? Doubtful.

  "I see your doubt. Close your eyes," Toby said. "I'm going to look at your memory of the past. I want to see that night for myself."

  She closed one eye. "You aren't going to kill me, right?"

  "Would I really tell you if I was? Relax. Take a deep breath," he said. "Think back to when the man grabbed you."

  Jacqueline breathed deeply, closed both eyes, and tried to remember.

  ******

  The man had yanked her so hard she stumbled, falling to her knees. Thinking quickly, she's screamed Eric's name, managing to get it out before the slap to her face knocked her completely to the ground. The man leaned over her, a look of wonder in his eyes.

  "So you're what the fuss is all about," he said. "I thought you'd be more of a fighter."

  As she'd fallen, her hand had grazed against one of the heavy rocks that lined the walkway to the house. She swung her arm, pleased when the rock connected with the stranger's head. He stumbled back with a cry of pain.

  She pulled herself up and ran to the house. Eric opened the door just as she reached for the handle.

  "Help me," she gasped.

  Eric's gaze went over her shoulder. With a grim face, he pushed her in the house and then stepped out into the rain.

  "Stay here," he ordered, not waiting for her answer. "Call the station."

  Eric strode across the grass to where the other man lay on the ground. Grabbing the man by the shirt collar, he roughly hauled him up. Blood dripped from a deep gash on the side of his face. Keeping an eye on the action outside, Jacqueline grabbed Eric's cell phone from the hall table and dialed 911
. She thought the man said something to Eric, but she couldn't make out the words.

  "911, what is your emergency?" The operator's voice cut through her thoughts.

  "I'd like--"

  She stopped. The strange man had pushed her husband, freeing himself, but his hands---they sparkled with red light. Shocked by the oddity of the sight, Jacqueline could only stare as the man thrust his blazing hands at Eric. Even more shocking was when her husband, raised his own hands which also glowed with a strange, white light. As she watched, the two men appeared to fight each other, the streams of their independent lights pushing between them.

  "What the hell…"Jacqueline said.

  "I'm sorry, ma'am. What did you say the nature of the emergency was?" The operator's voice was impatient, but Jacqueline ignored that. She placed the phone on the table again and stepped back into the rain.

  "There's your pretty bride," the man who attacked her shouted. "Did you really think we wouldn't find her?"

  "Jacqueline! Get back in the house!" Eric ordered.

  "No need for that!" The man darted behind her car, breaking the streams of light. Then he tossed a new stream at her.

  The edges of the light seared at her chest, causing a stinging sensation. However, it was Eric who took the brunt of the blow by jumping in the path of the light. He howled in pain and thrust a fireball at the stranger before dropping to the ground.

  ****

  "Eric," she whispered. "He really was a wizard."

  "Yes." Toby watched the emotions streak across her face which was ringed with exhaustion. "Do you know what happened to the man that attacked you?"

  "He must have thought I was dead. I remember falling to the ground, the pain in my chest unbearable at first. It was a few minutes before I even was able to move to Eric."

  "Maybe you were dead."

  "What do you mean?"

  "What your memory just showed is that you were hit with a very powerful blast of magic. If Eric hadn't taken most of it, you would have died. However, maybe you got just enough to trigger your inner banshee," Toby mused. "Where is your family from?"

  "They're from here," she said. "My folks have lived in Galesburg Falls all of their lives."

  "What's their last name?"

  "Green."

  "And what about your ancestors? Where do they come from?"

  He watched her chew on her lip, obviously disturbed by his question. For some reason he found himself distracted by her lips, wondering how they would feel to touch. He quickly shook the thought off.

  "I don't know. I was adopted," she admitted with a small yawn.

  Adopted? That could explain a few things. He sighed and glanced at the clock. As badly as he wanted to question her, she really needed to rest. Her face was drawn and pinched with exhaustion, and he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. The rest of the discussion could wait a few hours longer. However, he didn't want her to stay alone. Too many dangerous things lurked in the night. The safest place would be for her to stay with him at his cottage down the road, but somehow he didn't think she was going to go for that.

  Women tended not to want to go back to your place once you told them you were going to have to kill them.

  "Well, your biological family's roots may be something we need to look in to," Toby said. "The banshee from earlier is connected to them. We just need to figure out which family that is."

  "This is too overwhelming."

  "You need rest."

  "That's an understatement."

  "I'll take you home."

  She looked him, the worry in her eyes almost palatable. "Is it safe at my place?"

  He knew what she really meant. Are you safe? Will you try to kill me?

  "I'll make it safe."

  "How?"

  "I'll stay the night with you."

  He would have given anything to know her thoughts just then. Fear mixed with a slow blush crept over her face. Hmmm…maybe she'd been more aware of him than he'd thought. Could it be that she was attracted to him as he was to her?

  No. Of course not. Women like Jacqueline did not go for guys like him. Especially with his quirks. And what was he thinking anyway? He wasn't attracted to her. He just liked her…hair.

  "I have a spare bedroom," she said softly. "You could stay there."

  "Sounds good." He cleared his throat. "I'll weave some protection enchantments for your house, too, after I've had some rest."

  She studied him a moment as if trying to make up her mind, and then grabbed her purse.

  "Cool. You make protection spells and I'll make breakfast."

  ****

  The man pressed closer to the outside wall of Merlyn's Bar and smiled. The simple cloaking spell he'd cast a few minutes before had allowed him to escape the gaze of Toby Williams and keep his presence a secret just a little longer. Oh, sure, he knew that he'd have to introduce himself to the woman eventually, but years of experience had taught him the art of observation. It was amazing what one could learn just by keeping silent, by letting others over look you even. Information in his sly hands had a habit of becoming a true weapon.

  If only his partner had taken his advice and been more discreet. But no. Trenton had gone to the woman's house and allowed things to get out of control. As a result, they now had a powerful weapon that was on the Brotherhood's radar.

  Damn.

  Ah well. Some things couldn't be helped and as he watched Jacqueline be escorted out of the bar by the other wizard, he knew that she would soon be his. There was no doubt about that at all. No one could resist him.

  The man frowned as he watched Toby Williams start up the woman's car and then drive off.

  Toby is another little problem I can't wait to deal with.

  But even as he thought that, unease grew in his belly. Toby would be tricky. To deny his talent as a wizard was unthinkable. In fact, most wizards knew to keep their distance from the formidable bartender.

  But he wasn't most wizards. He was Derek Spark, son of the great Jonathan Spark, who was head of the high council of the Brotherhood. No one would dare classify him as any ordinary wizard, even if he was an outcast.

  Derek Spark was special. And soon, everyone would know it.

  *****

  She fell into a deep sleep.

  But it wasn't peaceful. All sorts of images clustered around her in the dream and Jacqueline couldn't quite get free of them. Over and over, she replayed pieces of the night Eric died, only in her dreams, she saw herself turning into the terrible hag that had been outside Merlyn's Bar.

  She woke up, barely able to stifle the cry of terror that threatened to come out. Taking a few deep breaths, Jacqueline struggled to get control. After a moment, her heartbeat slowed and she lay back against her pillow.

  Banshee. The word rolled around in her head.

  "I'm a banshee," she whispered.

  It sounded too silly to be real. In fact, it couldn't be real. She was a normal person and no normal person would call themselves a banshee.

  Then again, most normal people didn't go around singing when someone died.

  Can you say freak show, Jacqueline?

  Frowning, she pushed back the covers, got up and went to her computer.

  Banshee. She typed the word into her search engine and scrolled through the information that came up. There was much to choose from. Jacqueline clicked on a site called Myths and Legends of Ireland.

  A banshee is a feminine spirit who is seen as an omen of death and a messenger from the Underworld.

  "Great," she said. "I'm an omen of death."

  The banshee can take on the guise of a young or old woman and is often attached to a particular branch of an Irish family.

  "Okay, what else you got?" Jacqueline scrolled further down and read out loud. "Banshees were originally thought to be fairies under the watch of the goddess, Morrigan. They're job is to foretell of a person's death and to escort lost souls to the other side."

  She sat back. The site indicated that banshees were u
ltimately spirits. Jacqueline knew she was very much alive. None of this explained who was after her and why her banshee tendencies had been activated.

  Her belly rumbled, reminding her of her promise to make Toby breakfast.

  "Let's go see if the wizard is hungry and then find out what the hell is going on," she said, her stomach tightening with nerves.

  Wizards were real. She couldn't quite accept that as she descended the stairs, and yet, she couldn't ignore it either. Something had happened the night her husband died and last night, outside of Toby's bar--the old hag had been real. So why was she having such a hard time accepting everything that had occurred?

  "Because it's not logical," she muttered, before catching sight of Toby in the living room.

  All logic rushed away.

  He was seated cross legged on the floor, facing the stairs. Jacqueline would have thought he was meditating, except that there were several objects floating in the air around him. They appeared to be some sort of spinning blue crystals.

  At her gasp of surprise, the crystals lowered slowly to the ground, making a circle around Toby. He opened his blue eyes and smiled.

  "Just practicing a few spells," he said. "How did you sleep?"

  "Fine," she managed to get out. "What are those? Crystals?"

  "Yes. They are just used for clarity. Pretty harmless stuff."

  "Harmless. Good," she stammered, aware of his warm gaze watching her. "Are you hungry?"

  "I could eat."

  "Bacon? Eggs? What would you like?"

  "Whatever you make will be fine. I don't usually eat much for breakfast." Toby stood up, and she couldn't help but once again notice how broad his shoulders were, how his biceps strained against the sleeves of his black T-shirt.

  "What's Mastodon?" she asked, pointing at the logo on his shirt.

  "A metal band."

  He followed her into the kitchen, seeming huge in the tiny room. Eric had been tall, but he never filled the space in quite the same way that Toby did.

  "Do you like music?" Toby asked, sitting at the kitchen table. In the soft morning light, his blonde hair glistened gold, and Jacqueline had to force herself to look away from it.