There was only one option left and while Samantha knew she shouldn’t use it, she was done with fearing her power. It was dark and capable of awful things, but only if Samantha did awful things. She was not a bad person, not a demon bent on evil. She was a witch trying to free a cursed bird from a cage.
The thread of power she pulled was thin and sharp. It slid inside the lock and cracked the hellish magic that bound it. Samantha grimaced and pushed harder. The hellish magic lashed out at her.
White lighting snaked up her arms. She gritted her teeth and shook as it snapped at her. The magic receded, as if confident Samantha had learned her lesson. Ciaran cooed softly at her. She imagined him begging her to stop, but she wasn’t ready to give up. A cage was not going to stop her.
Her arms shook from the hellish pain, but she reached for more of that dark power inside her. This time, she fine-tuned it, like a musician searching for the right note. She molded her power into a similar kind of darkness and let it slither through the spell over the lock. Small bursts of pain jolted up her arms. The spell was confused, but it still knew something was wrong. Little by little, her magic chipped away at the hellish power. More and more of the magic fell away, flaking like ashes and drifting away in the wind. The lock snapped and dropped to the concrete below to bounce away.
The cage door swung open and Ciaran flew out before Samantha could even move. In seconds, a man sat beside her on the bench. His arms wrapped around her, and she let herself fall into him. Little by little, she steadied her breath until she felt something akin to normal. Nothing had changed, but at least she could control herself.
Ciaran leaned his head against hers as he held her. His voice was a whisper in her ear. “I heard you call me your boyfriend.”
Samantha’s laugh turned into a sob as she clung to Ciaran.
“I liked it more than I should have.”
Chapter Thirteen
He wasn’t lying. The way Samantha claimed him, the way she had rescued him, made him feel something he had not felt in a very long time.
Hope.
The way it blossomed in his chest almost made him forget the way his arm tingled from where the feather had been plucked. Flying had been awkward, no matter how he’d forced it. The feather was in the demon’s hands. It was probably attempting to tear a hole in the veil as they sat on the bench.
If they didn’t stop the demon, more demons would come through. Each second that ticked closer to All Hallow’s Eve made the veil thinner. Even though the feather had been plucked at an inopportune time, the demon could probably still use it.
“I need you to listen to me,” Ciaran began. “When we’re done here, you’re going to find a way out of town. Once I know you’re far away, then I’ll go and handle the demon in your house. When it’s over, I’ll call you to come home.”
Samantha shoved his arms away and shot to her feet. She glowered at him. He held his hands up, not sure what he’d done.
She flung out her arm, pointing back toward the manor several blocks away. “That is my home. If you think I’m abandoning it right now, then you are an idiot. Especially when I need to win that damn contest.”
“It’s a contest,” he argued. “And a house. Neither are things to lose your life over. That demon plans on opening a portal to hell and letting loose hell knows what with the power of Imogen’s curse. That power is in me, in my feathers. And now he has it and he’s going to bring all sorts of evil into this world. I can’t…it wouldn’t be right to bring you with me.”
“Then you don’t know what its like to struggle to keep the lights on.” Soft and sweet Samantha stood her ground, her feet spreading apart as she leaned over Ciaran. “To pay property taxes so that the town can’t take my family home from me even though the taxes have gone up and up and up, keeping me from buying a new car.”
Ciaran’s life had been a struggle, but it had been a different kind of struggle. He clenched his jaw. While she was right, it didn’t change anything. He wanted her far away from what could happen here. The demon was going to rip open a portal to hell. Through it, the demon would usher in monstrosities much worse than the hellhounds. When he thought of Samantha in the middle of this hellish chaos, his gut clenched and cold washed through his body.
She needed to see reason. They could fix all that once this was over. It would be alright.
He hung his head, fingers knotted tight together as he searched for the right words.
“If you think my priorities are misplaced, know that you are the reason I’m staying. I thought you knew that. Everything else was just to back up my argument.”
Ciaran reached for her legs and pulled her to him, so he could rest his head against her stomach. Immediately, her fingers found his hair. Her nails dragged along his scalp. Being held by Samantha was unlike anything else. It served to remind him that Imogen never loved him the way he thought.
If she had, she wouldn’t have cursed him.
Broken up with him, sure. He had killed her husband, the father of her children, under her roof. No matter what kind of man Phillip had been, that was unforgivable.
Samantha held onto him as if he were precious.
“We’re a team or we’re nothing,” she whispered. “I have an idea if you’re willing to listen.”
He did, patiently letting her lay out a sequence of events. His stomach churned. He remained unconvinced. The longer they waited, the more time the demon had to use his feather. Neither could tell what was happening behind closed door. It was impossible to know what evils were wrought while they pulled together a plan.
In the end, Ciaran nodded. He’d come for Samantha’s help and, while this was not what he’d wanted, it was as good as they could make it in their current situation.
Chapter Fourteen
Samantha smiled at the market as people gave them strange looks. She couldn’t tell if they were confused by Ciaran’s sudden appearance in her life and his intimidating presence beside her, or if they glanced at the things in her basket and wondered what the town witch was up to this time. To be fair, Samantha was trying to recreate a curse from the turn of the century.
It called for some strange things.
She’d been relieved when she had been able to find most of what she needed at the little market. It carried odd things and a local butcher worked in the back, granting her everything from hemlock to pigs’ blood.
When no one stopped to ask her what she thought she was doing with the strange collection of ingredients, she eased a bit. The cashier raised a brow but said nothing. Ciaran asked her where she thought she was going to get a cauldron and the cashier didn’t even blink. It was that time of year, after all.
“Oh, this could work.” She leaned over the register belt and grabbed a soup mug with bats flying up the side of it. While it wasn’t a cauldron like the one her great-grandmother had used in the vision, it would do what Samantha needed it to do.
They scurried back into the parking lot, where Samantha scanned the small town around them. Red trees hugged the curbs while the steeples of churches rose high over town. It was quaint and quiet, but they both knew a demon was lurking in the very center of it, planning something nefarious.
Samantha needed to find a place to recreate her version of the curse. It wasn’t like she could whip it out in the middle of the market. Well, she could, but it wasn’t going to endear her to the townsfolk. They already thought she was strange as it was.
“Where to next?” Ciaran broke through her thoughts. His hand hovered over her lower back, a shield against anything that might happen.
They hadn’t spoken about what was between them, but each passing moment made it seem stronger. Ciaran never left her side. Her involvement in this mess had brought out the shining knight in him.
Truthfully, she felt a little bad about what they were going to do. Once this was over and the demon had been banished, then they would discuss other options. For now, this was how it had to be.
“I’m not sure.” S
he spun around, still searching the horizon around them. “We could go to the pavilion. Its usually empty this time of year.
While Samantha cut through the town, heading toward the pavilion, Ciaran took to the skies. The great raven circled overhead. She trusted him to make a fuss if he saw anything coming their way. When she reached the pavilion and he landed on a metal railing, she figured the demon was still trapped inside Carver manor.
She hoped whatever the demon had managed to summon in their absence was locked in there, too. Like the hellhounds. Her skin crawled as she sat. Memories of Ciaran’s shoulder after his run in with the hellhounds filled her mind. The sickness had been destroying him, and she didn’t have the right herbs to heal a bite like that again.
If one bit her, a mortal witch with no innate healing abilities, she was screwed.
Bit by bit, Samantha pulled out the ingredients and makeshift tools. It looked strange and felt awfully silly, but Samantha dedicated the mug as a cauldron and poured a bit of pigs’ blood into the bottom of it. She’d made a note of the things on Imogen’s table while caught in the vision. While Samantha did not know how Imogen did it, the least she could do was make it up as she went.
It wasn’t like she was trying to curse anyone. In fact, she was trying to undo part of the curse. Ciaran hopped over to her. His bird form was the size of a dog and oddly comforting. She apologized when it came time to pluck a feather. She couldn’t imagine how it might feel.
Even though his shapeshifting abilities helped him heal, Samantha noticed that the feather the demon had taken earlier was still missing. She hoped he didn’t have a finite number of feathers, that they would come back.
Ciaran said nothing, but she suspected that might be his stoic attitude. He would endure anything to see this through.
“Hey,” she said, getting Ciaran’s attention. Beady, black eyes looked at her with almost a somber expression. “I know you think this can make up for what happened a hundred years ago but remember that you can have a life after this. I want you to survive. Do you hear me? I want you to make it through this.”
While she was trying to convince Ciaran that he had a reason to live, neither heard the hounds approaching. Not until one slammed into Ciaran. Feathers burst into the air as the two rolled away. Samantha cried out before quickly remembering herself. Tears of frustration filled the corners of her eyes as she dutifully turned back to the mug.
While grunts and bird cries split the air behind her, Samantha tried to focus on the tip of the raven feather in her hand. She dipped it into the mug cauldron and raised it in the air. With her free hand, she reached out for the power of the curse Ciaran carried with him. Like called to like, and the curse filled her hand.
With her mind’s eye, she envisioned the open portal between Ciaran and the inbetween. Stitch by stitch, she used the tip of the feather to sew it closed. The sounds behind her escalated. Wings beat at the air and made her ear drums thump. Her hands shook, but she finally reached the end and the portal closed with a popping sensation.
She let out a breath of air just as a shriek erupted. Samantha shot to her feet, spinning around.
***
The monster’s teeth hadn’t broken the skin yet.
Yet.
Its snapped and snarled at him, but he leapt out of its reach over and over. He could have taken to the air and escaped the beast, but if he left, it would turn on Samantha. So, he stayed near the ground and dallied with the monster’s attention.
Another hellhound raced up the concrete steps of the pavilion. It sped toward him like a bullet. It was all he could do to shoot toward the ceiling above. He wanted to rest on the metal beams that held up the roof and catch his breath, but he swooped over them and back down toward the monsters.
They leapt in the air after him. Their jump was powerful. Teeth came close to his tail feathers. A jolt of adrenaline filled his body. He cut to the side and spun through the air, out into the open beyond the pavilion.
Just as he broke into the open air, he felt the world shift around him. At first, he thought the inbetween would come and snatch his mind. Instead, the inbetween seemed to drift away. It was as if the looming threat began to retreat. He felt a weight lifted from his wings. He felt invincible.
He swooped around, back toward the pavilion. In the shadows, he saw the hounds veer toward Samantha. They seemed to look at him with spite in their eyes. His heart lurched, and he dropped through the air. He didn’t know what he was doing until he was in the middle of doing it.
Just before the hound hit Samantha, he slammed into the side of its head. He shifted, his human shoulder crashing into one beast while he drove his fist into the skull of the other. He could feel his knuckles splitting open upon impact, but he didn’t care. Ciaran brought his foot up, kicking the beast away from Samantha.
He wasn’t paying attention to the first hellhound. The creature had moved. Teeth closed around Ciaran’s arm. He cried out as the lava-hot pain laced through his muscles. He bit back his groan and shook the hound, but the creature refused to let go of his arm.
The pain only burned hotter. He could feel hell reaching for him. It had always been on his heels, the heat rippling through the inbetween while his mind was trapped there. Now, it reached through the wounds in his arm and threatened to swallow him whole.
Only, the portal that had once been there was gone. The heat washed over his face, but nothing grabbed him. He stayed rooted in reality and managed to find the energy to bring his cracked knuckles down upon the hound’s head. He could hear the crack of bones. The hound staggered away.
“Screw this,” Samantha muttered.
Ciaran didn’t see what his witch was doing. The hounds leapt at him again. Teeth found purchase in his leg and shoulder. He dropped to his knees, concrete sending a shock up his spine. The monsters wrestled him. They shook their heads back and forth, trying to wear him down.
Samantha cursed under her breath. He could hear the sudden indecision in her voice.
He did the only thing he could think of. Though a voice in the back of his mind told him the raven form would be gone, he shifted. With the curse altered, Ciaran didn’t know if he could change forms. He feared the last change from raven to human had been his last. Yet, he burst free of the hellhounds. Black wings split the air and surged toward the ceiling.
From the beams above, Ciaran watched as Samantha launched whatever was in the ceramic mug at the creatures. Rust colored blood splattered over their unearthly bodies. At first, the creatures didn’t know what to do. Then they lowered their heads and growled, baring teeth as they crept forward.
Ciaran was just about to drop from the rafters when he caught the soft sound of Samantha’s voice. The hellhounds stopped mid-step and their bodies seemed to jerk. The familiar feeling of the veils being ripped open tingled at the base of Ciaran’s skull. The hellhounds fought and scratched against the concrete beneath them, but it was no use. The portal sucked them away.
Where once stood two hellhounds, now there was nothing.
Ciaran jumped into the air, but the heat in his body made him heavy. He stumbled and fell. Samantha caught him just as his human feet hit the ground. She grunted under the unexpected weight of his chest against hers, but she managed to help him to the ground.
His vision wavered. This time, the hounds had bitten him more. Their hellish infection was now coursing through his entire body. He looked up at Samantha, at his witch. His time with her had been good. The world was closing in on him. The darkness he’d wished for time and time again before he met her now entered the edges of his vision.
He reached for her, wanting to hold onto her in his last moments, but Samantha shook her head and darted away. It hurt, but he didn’t blame her for not wanting to watch. Words filled his mouth, but he couldn’t command his lips to move. Confessions were going to die along with him.
He pressed his eyes shut and tried to summon Samantha’s face. If he was going to die, then he wanted her face to be the last
thing he saw.
Ciaran had settled into the darkness, had welcomed it, when the pain lanced through his shoulder. His eyes snapped open, and he gasped, nearly shooting upright. All that stopped him was Samantha’s hands pressed against his shoulder. Against the wound.
He found the look of determination on her face. Her lips were pressed into a disgruntled pout and her glare was hotter than the pain of his wounds. He reached for her, fingers brushing her arm.
He wanted to ask what she was doing, but he couldn’t find his voice. Instead, he felt her power, her magic that was so similar to Imogen’s, crackle over his skin. It sunk into his muscles, into his bones. Something else was pressed against the wound. He couldn’t tell what it was. All he could feel was a cold spot where there should have been heat.
Samantha swallowed and moved on to the next wound. He caught a flash of green as she reached for something on the ground beside her. The smell of herbs filled the air, fresh and green.
“Don’t you dare die on me,” Samantha growled.
His witch was ferocious, he thought. She was a force to be reckoned with, one that would not stand for anything in her way. Unlike Imogen, who wanted to hide her head under a blanket of deception, Samantha faced the world head on and ripped away the lies. She was his witch.
He reached for her, settling for the graze of his fingers against her shoulder as she worked on his leg. When she looked to him, her eyes were filled with tears. Her body shook from the effort.
She was using everything she had to save him. He wanted to tell her to save herself. The demon could send more hounds after them. Any moment, they could be ambushed again. The contents of the mug were gone. She’d thrown it at the two hounds earlier. They wouldn’t be able to pull that trick again. Not for some time at least.
If he could give her time to run, then she might be able to survive.
The Raven Curse Page 8