“Dad,” I said, and he reached for my hand, wrapping his warm, callused palm around mine. “I need to tell you something.”
“Honey, I already know.” His eyes filled with tears but he smiled through them.
“About the Trinity?” I asked tentatively.
His lips formed a tight line as he gave my hand a squeeze. “Vivian told me everything when the Earth Mother came to her. She told me that if the time ever came, you would find out on your own. Her hope was that you would come to us when it happened. When she died…” A tear escaped the corner of his eye. “I was afraid that if it happened, I wouldn’t know how to help you.”
“Lucky you’ve got all of us,” Blaire added.
“We just wanted to protect you,” Dad said.
“I know.” I squeezed his hand reassuringly as my heart swelled behind my breastbone. I wouldn’t tell him that I’d been angry with their decisions to keep me in the dark. The truth was ever since I found Mom’s grimoire in the spelled attic, all of that turmoil and sorrow had faded away. There was no point in dredging up the past that would only serve to inflict pain. “When did you find out?” I asked him.
“I had my suspicions about Blaire when I discovered she was a witch,” Dad admitted, “But everything clicked when I saw the three of you together.”
“This is weird, isn’t it?” I scrunched my features together.
“I’ve had a long time to prepare myself about how all this would make me feel,” Dad said, reaching up to scratch his head, “but weird is an understatement.”
I laughed and Wren squeezed my shoulder. “I’d apologize, but I know it wouldn’t suffice.”
“No apology is required,” Dad said.
A thought occurred to me. “Dad, you don’t remember Mom working with the enchantress to spell the hidden door to the attic do you? I found the book that she left for me.”
“I sort of feel like maybe I did, but,” he frowned, “it’s like I can’t remember anything. If I try, it’s just really foggy.”
Blaire waved her hand over my dad, reading things from his aura that I couldn’t detect. “His memory has been tampered with,” she said. “I can feel the traces of a lingering protection spell.”
“It was probably the enchantress’s doing,” I said at the turn of an eye roll. “I’m starting to feel like everything is entirely on her terms.”
“So about that vision,” Blaire said, gently leading me back on track.
“Hey, where’s Bryna?” I realized the room seemed quieter and less judgmental than usual.
“She’s been trying to dig up research on the grimoire’s symbol. I told her I was coming over to practice spell work with you and suggested she stay at the cabin. I’ll catch her up to speed later,” Blaire said.
“Right,” I cleared my throat, “the enchantress led me to the Thornwood Were bar via spirit quest style. The vision started with Maddox and Ryker talking about Wren and how Hailey was being used as bait to get you to join their pack.” I looked up at Wren. “Maddox wanted to use me in hopes of coercing your decision, but Ryker wouldn’t allow it.” I could feel the tension building in Wren’s muscles beside me. “But then…” I froze, remembering the horrible truth of what happened after that, and an icy chill passed through my body.
“Go on.” Blaire reached out, placing her hand on my knee. A fresh burst of air rushed through my lungs, filling me with warmth and smelling of lilacs in the spring. Somehow she’d known I needed the strength of her goddess given affinity to deliver the awful message that was making my stomach lurch.
In a voice that was barely audible I managed to say, “The woman who killed Niall was there. Her name is Nyla.” I sensed Wren’s penetrating gaze from the side, but I was glad he’d kept me tucked against his body because I didn’t think I had the strength to look up into his eyes. His whole body had become an unyielding block of solid marble. I stayed silent until I was sure I felt him breathing again.
“You know who killed Niall?” came my dad’s stunned reply.
“When we performed the spell that linked us as the Trinity, we were attacked by a group of rogue werewolves that had been working for the Dark Witch,” Blaire explained. “One of them sacrificed Niall in the name of Rionach. It was a warning.”
Dad blinked rapidly as he struggled to absorb this harsh piece of information. He staggered up from the chair he was sitting in and crossed his arms over his chest. “Attacked by werewolves? Quinn, why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“I’m sorry Dad, but, I didn’t know how… I wanted to keep you safe.”
Dad’s eyes expanded. “I’m the parent. It’s my job to–” he stopped short, working his jaw as the little vein in his temple began to twitch. “You didn’t go to the police?”
“We can’t turn her in.” I heard the harsh, low rumble emitting from Wren’s chest. “Werewolves are subjected to the three phases of the full moon cycle; we have no choice but to Change. A werewolf can’t go to human prison.”
“Well, is there some sort of Supernatural justice system?” My dad lifted his hands. “There must be a way to make her answer for her crimes.”
“Ryker told the others to take her to the cells–whatever that means,” I said. “They were hauling her away and that was the last thing I saw before I woke up.”
“Usually when something like this occurs, the punishments are left up to the Supernatural race it involves, but should they fail to serve appropriate justice, the Aurora Coven will step in if deemed necessary,” Blaire said. That was news to me. I knew the Aurora Coven was top of the line as far as witches were concerned, but I had no idea they played a role in the rest of the Supernatural realm. I frowned at Blaire, wondering what else I didn’t know about the esteemed coven. She turned to me and asked, “Do you think that’s what the enchantress wanted you to see–that they were punishing her?” Blaire’s eyebrows knitted together.
I shook my head. “There was more. Ryker knew about Nyla following the Darkness. He banished her and the others from the pack and swore to end their lives if they ever came back to Thornwood. She asked for amnesty and told him that she knew about us–about the Trinity. She said she was turning from the path of shadow, and that she believed the Dark Witch only wanted the amulet back so she could control the pack. And then she told them that I was carrying the amulet,” I finished in a rush. “They want to take it from me.”
“Ah, hell,” Annabelle muttered.
“We’re not going to let them have it,” Blaire said with determination. “The vision the enchantress sent you is going to keep us one step ahead of the others.”
Dad’s face had gone ashen and he was staring through me like he’d seen a ghost. Blaire noticed; she laid her hand on his shoulder and used her affinity to help calm him. “If this is too much–” I started to say but Dad cut me off.
“No. I’d rather be in the know. I just don’t like feeling so useless.”
“You’re not useless,” I told him earnestly.
“But knowing that there isn’t anything I can do to help–to protect you…” His gaze dropped from mine, fingers trembling.
Wren leaned up from the couch, making sure that I was covered with the blanket before placing a solid hand on my dad’s shoulder. “Mr. Callaghan, let’s take a walk.” My dad blinked up at him, shrugged and then nodded. Wren held the front door for my dad, looked back at me for a brief moment and shot me a wink that under the circumstances should not have made my stomach flutter, but it did.
“He loves you,” Blaire said, watching the two men through the window as they walked across the lawn.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” I dared to ask.
“You, ob
viously,” Annabelle said.
My intestines felt like spaghetti being wound through fork tines. I tried to ignore the sensation and tucked my legs beneath me to help trap in the warmth. “Nyla thinks they should kill me,” I paused. “She told Ryker that there’s nothing on earth that can destroy the amulet. They don’t want a weapon that can control them resting in the hands of a witch.”
“We can use this to our advantage,” Blaire said. “We have a bargaining tool.”
I was sure I was staring at her like she’d lost her mind. “You’re not actually suggesting that we hand it over, are you?”
“Of course not! But maybe we can buy more time for Wren if we tell them we’re going to the enchantress to have the amulet destroyed,” she suggested.
“That’s a horrible plan,” Annabelle said. “No way should you guys even step foot in Thornwood if you think for a minute they might possibly try to kill you!”
“Someone is always trying to kill us,” I replied, “what’s new?”
“I mean what are you going to do if they try to attack you?”
Blaire and I exchanged knowing looks, and at the same time opened our palms with a flick of the wrist to summon our elemental energy-balls. Swirls of blue and opal vapor danced across our palms.
“Oh, yeah, sure, that’ll knock out a whole pack of werewolves.” Flabbergasted, Annabelle ran a hand through her hair.
“Ryker doesn’t want to hurt me,” I told her. “His pack won’t outwardly disobey him. As long as I’m under his protection, we should be fine.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I saw another side to him–one that shows he actually has a moral compass. He’s not as ruthless as the rest of the pack sees him. It’s a mask he has to wear, but it’s not his true nature.” I felt the truth in the statement as I said it and knew this was one of the reasons the enchantress had showed me the vision.
“So what do you want to do, Quinn?” Blaire folded her palm over my ankle.
“Wren is supposed to give Ryker an answer tomorrow night about joining the pack. Maybe the three of us should go before the council. They know who we are now, we might as well own up to it. It will give us an opportunity to present our case.”
“I still don’t like it,” Annabelle said.
“Neither do I, but, we don’t really have another choice.”
My owl was there–resting in the branches of the big willow tree. Her drooping branches concealed the gazebo like a beaded curtain, shielding it from the outside world. The tips of her branches dipped low over the creek bank and if the wind blew just right, sometimes the branches would caress the surface of the water. It was quiet there, save for the sound of water cutting across the rocks in the creek bed as it churned along the bend. The sun had just disappeared below the horizon line, leaving the cloudless sky shimmering in shades of amethyst. Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, was just beginning to shine.
I called upon the elements to replenish my body. The vision sent by the enchantress had taken a lot out of me and wearing the Dark Witch’s amulet in place of my own didn’t help matters. I missed my iolite stone and the strength it provided me when I had a vision. For now, the healing elements sufficed.
The owl above me ruffled her wings. I looked up from the grimoire and spotted Wren making his way to the gazebo. Twilight glossed his skin, shimmering as though he’d been fashioned from the moon. He ducked below the sweeping branches and my favorite, cavalier half smile pulled at one corner of his mouth.
“You found me,” I said.
“I never lost you.” He sat down on the worn wooden bench and drew me nearer. His lips pressed into the side of my temple as his arms circled my waist. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yeah, a little.” I ran my fingertips across the cover of the grimoire, tracing the crescent moons on either side of the triquetra symbol. “The elements are making me stronger.”
“It’s been a long day,” he replied, as if that could somehow sum up the emotional rollercoaster we’d been on since dawn.
I let go of a sigh, pulled my knees to my chest, and leaned against him. “Is my dad okay?”
“He’s been through a lot of heartbreak in his life, but he’s stronger for it. He knows he has to accept that he can’t protect you anymore, but I assured him that I would never let anything happen to you.” Wren shifted me in his arms, gently tilting my chin so that I was looking up into his golden eyes. “You know that, right?”
“I know it, and I’m not afraid.”
“What if I am?” His eyes flickered back and forth between mine.
“Then you should know I’d never let anything happen to you, either.” I grinned and nudged his ribs with my shoulder.
He rolled his eyes and dropped his hand from my chin. “That is absolutely not your job. You might be a super powerful sorcerous with kick-ass abilities, but you are mine to protect.” He lifted his eyebrows, setting his jaw stubbornly.
A shiver passed through my lower abdomen at the way he’d emphasized that I was his. I leaned into him, pressing my mouth against the side of his throat, and his pulse jumped beneath my lips. He tilted my face to his, bringing his mouth down on mine. His kiss was a slow and steady burn that tangled with the scents of his skin, wrapping deliriously through my brain. He broke the kiss too soon, resting his forehead against mine, and traced my lower lip with his thumb.
“You know that I love you, right?”
“I know,” I breathed. And even though I did know, my heart still raced and swelled at the notion of his declaration.
We held each other for a long while, hidden beneath the gazebo and the willow tree’s canopy until the night sky stretched above us and filled with billions of silver stars. Above us in the tree, the barn owl cried out into the night. The echoing call startled me and I jumped against Wren’s side. Quiet laughter rumbled in his chest.
“Wow,” I said, “The epitome of Darkness is on my doorstep and an owl screeching in the tree causes me to jump. If that’s not embarrassing, I don’t know what is.”
“She’s just talking to you.” Wren tipped his head back against the support beam and gazed up at her through the branches.
“What do you think she wants?”
“Probably to catch a mouse for dinner,” he mused. I made a face. He chuckled and squeezed my shoulder. “Come on, we better get you inside.”
“Yeah, okay,” I agreed. I reached for my mother’s grimoire that was resting next to me when I noticed something was different. My brows laced together and I pulled the book onto my lap. “Wren, look,” I pointed to the cover, “the crescent moons are facing inward now.”
“What?” He tilted the book in his direction.
“They weren’t like this before, they were facing out.” I sat up straight, pinching one of the moons between my thumb and index finger to try and get it to move but the thing wouldn’t budge.
“I think you might just be sleep deprived.”
“Wren, I’m telling you, it wasn’t like this before!” As if to prove my belief, the triquetra symbol in the middle of the moons began to glow gold. The crescents began glowing with the light of the silver moon, and I gasped. “Oh my goddess!”
“Open it,” Wren suggested.
My stomach fluttered as I flipped the cover, turning the first page past my mother’s letter and then saw something that at first I couldn’t comprehend. Elegant script leapt from the page, gleaming in luminous metallic silver. “It’s star spelled,” I said in awe. “Blaire said it was spelled by Old Magic–star magic is about as old as it gets.” I ran my fingers over the beautiful lettering. “There’s no way my mother could have done this,” I said. �
��It’s got to be the enchantress.”
“It’s incredible,” Wren said.
An emblem of an ornate silver bow and arrow decorated the top of the page. It emitted lunar light, like it was made from the heavens. When I touched it, sparks of blue danced beneath my fingertips on the page. “It’s just like the attic door,” I breathed. Beneath the bow and arrow, I read the script aloud.
By lunar light she follows
The stars shall guide her way
Beneath the moonlit meadow
Behold: a night within a day
When I finished reading the poem, a little gold arrow lit up in the bottom right-hand corner of the page. I didn’t hesitate. I flipped the page, and a metallic map glistened across the surface of the page.
“It’s the coastline,” Wren said. The map itself wasn’t very large, but I recognized a few pinpoints the enchantress had marked along the jagged coastline. “It’s probably about a five and a half-hour trip. We can make this in a day.”
I turned the next page, expecting to find detailed instructions or at least any indication of where on the coastline she might be but the pages that followed were blank. “Damn,” I muttered, and then the page lit up again in neat, cursive writing.
All will be revealed in time.
“Damn,” I muttered again. Wren laughed and kissed the side of my head.
“This is a good thing,” he reminded me. “We know the book is star spelled, and we know there’s a plan. For now, that’s going to have to be good enough.”
“When did you become the optimistic one?” I lifted an eyebrow.
“I’m optimistic,” he said, jabbing his thumbs into his chest. Now I laughed. Wren was a lot of things, but ‘naturally optimistic’ wasn’t one of them. He worried too much for one thing, but I knew that was because he was constantly thinking one step ahead. It was that natural wolf instinct–the need to hunt and protect and claim freedom. He was confident and strong and caring–all attributes that carried over from our previous lives. He was a warrior, and he was mine.
The Calling of the Trinity (Trinity Cycle Book 2) Page 17