by J. M. Davies
Isabella closed her eyes and she saw Roman stroking her cheek. Blinking away the annoying vampire, she opened her eyes. “You need to talk to Drayton, sweetie. Make it up with him and then you can get more. Jeez, I didn’t know you could be horny when you’re pregnant. Were you last time?”
As the words left her lips, Ella’s smile vanished and Isabella searched the perimeter of the seemingly empty cemetery. The mist seemed heavier and a light chill invaded the air around them. She would be happy when they left this dreary place. Looking back over her shoulder, she nodded at their security detail. Since Ella’s abduction, they shadowed her whenever she needed to leave the compound, and were assigned to watch over her in Marcus’s absence. Isabella touched the blade hidden under her jacket for reassurance. Holstered at her hip, she also carried a large sword.
“Come on. Let’s place the flowers on the grave and go. It’s getting colder.”
“I agree. It’s just a little farther down the path, in the corner by the tree.” Ella pointed up ahead.
But Isabella stood still. A prickling sensation crept over her. It could only mean one thing. A ghost. She grabbed Ella’s hand as shivers descended down her arms and clutched her insides. One of the lesser useful gifts as a witch was her ability to detect and help those departed souls waiting in transition. For some unknown reason, the undead were attracted to her. Observing the graves, a figure of a small girl dodged between two headstones, and her heart thudded.
“Ella, we have company. I think we should leave right now.”
“I sensed we weren’t alone.”
Isabella didn’t like dealing with the leftover spirits—you never knew what kind of mood they would be in—but a pull inside insisted she help. Ella met her gaze as she stared over her shoulder in the distance. The soul-shifter knew the skills she possessed and what she would need to do.
“You know I don’t want to leave you, but the guards can escort you back and keep you safe. I have to see what the spirit wants. Otherwise, it might follow us home. I have to go and help her. She’s lost.”
Ella nodded but didn’t move.
“The guards won’t leave your side, and I’ll be right back,” Isabella added.
“You go ahead. I want to say a few words at Josephine’s grave. I feel guilty for not having been here before now. I will be fine.”
After a quick word with Bullet and Coca-Cola, Isabella headed off in the direction she last saw the little girl. If she believed what Ella said about kissing, she was doomed. As much as she tried to make the relationship with Jake more, she couldn’t. On the other hand, her pulse leapt erratically the minute Roman appeared inside a room. Whenever the vamp came near, he wove a sensual spell, holding her captive. Despite the flirting with Jake—that never happened with him.
Shaking her head free of the image of the vampire, she focused on her surroundings. The mist grew thick, hiding Ella and the guards from view. Alone, the atmosphere shifted, and the hairs along her neck rose as she peered into the endless gloom, seeking the errant child-ghost. Out of the shadows crept a light voice, and she darted off in the direction she heard it. Wandering for several moments, still no sight of the spirit, she stopped, deep in thought. The mist became denser, which made visibility impossible. Impatient to be back with Ella, she called out, “Dispergere caliginem portan solis.”
A little magic to get rid of the blasted fog. Isabella repeated the spell over and over, requesting for the sun to shine and disperse the fog, but nothing happened. It didn’t make sense. It also didn’t make sense that a ghost would hide. She held still, not moving. Ghosts, once they attached themselves to her, didn’t play games—they wanted contact.
They wanted help.
Shit. Racing back the same way she came, she heard Ella yelling as a tall woman with flowing dark hair disappeared in the swirling mist. The two guards were nowhere in sight. Reaching Ella, she grabbed hold of her, giving her a quick once-over to check she and Nate were okay.
“She came out from nowhere. We have to leave right now,” Ella said, clutching Nate to her chest as he cried. As the mist thinned, Isabella caught sight of the guards sitting on the ground, rubbing their heads. “She knew Nate’s name. It’s the Morrigan.”
“Call for backup. I’m going after her,” Isabella shouted at Ella before racing into the mist.
“Don’t go, Isabella…”
“You need to wait for …”
Isabella caught part of what Bullet and Ella shouted, but she didn’t have time to chat. If she caught the bitch, she could kill her, and she couldn’t afford to stand around debating about it. Without examining why the goddess would appear now, she raced through the thin mist in the direction the woman vanished. The clouds of fog rose around her, curling like steam, only she shivered with the damp and cold. Weaving around moss-covered headstones, she darted through the cemetery with adrenaline pumping and driving her at warp speed.
Snatches of the tall, slim woman dressed in burgundy flickered in and out of the smog until she stood by a mausoleum surrounded by black iron rails. Isabella slowed her speed as branches snapped underfoot. She checked over each shoulder to make sure the Morrigan hadn’t backtracked and held her blade ready as the mist rolled in and out like waves at the ocean. One minute, she couldn’t see an inch in front of her; the next—shit. The striking lithe woman she had been pursuing stood a foot away, beckoning and daring for her to come and get her on the path by the tomb.
Isabella sniffed. Magic hovered in the air, explaining why she couldn’t dispel the fog, but nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. She could do this! Isabella charged as the mist parted before her and the woman smiled, flying at her. Holding her blade tight in her hand, Isabella flicked it, slicing right across the woman’s throat, and she dropped to her knees to prevent any retaliation. The mist closed in around her, but she knew the blade reached the target. Twisting around, she moved to stand, ready to plunge the dagger in the Morrigan’s heart, but she stuttered.
She stared at the snow on the ground, which had drops of blood. She lifted her knee to stand, but a wave of giddiness swept through her, toppling her flat to the ground. The damp earth seeped into her clothes. She coughed, spitting up blood, and gasped for air and understanding. She frantically clutched her own throat as sticky blood gushed between her fingers. The pungent smell of iron filled her nostrils and trickled down her throat, blocking her airway. Blood poured down her shirt and she twisted away, staring into the mist. I’m dying. Through the haze, an outline of a woman approached her. Ready to stick the final knife in. Instead, she blew her a kiss. The last thing Isabella witnessed before she slipped away was the woman’s vivid green eyes. The woman facing her was herself.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ella cradled Nate but pushed at Bullet, who held her back from Isabella. She tugged his sleeve, insisting he listen to her demands, but he led her away from the tomb, speaking into his mouthpiece. The last fifteen minutes were a blur. Everything happened so fast. Holding Nate for dear life, she couldn’t believe that the Morrigan had appeared and hurt Isabella. Tears brimmed her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. The light was fading, but she caught the sight of a growing pool of blood next to her friend. A single black crow perched on the old light by the tomb, squawking. Ella pressed Nate to her chest, protecting him from the cold and anything else seeking to do him harm.
“Yes, boss, I need an ETA. We have one down, badly injured. We need an urgent medical evac.”
Ella heard Bullet relay the situation. She didn’t know how severe the injuries to Isabella were, or whether she was alive or dead. The stubborn mule in front of her wouldn’t let her near the woman. Exasperated, she kicked the guard’s boot.
“Mrs. Drayton, please don’t. Coca-Cola is her best option at the moment and he can’t do shit if you’re there. She’s lost a lot of blood.”
“I’m her best option. Here, take the baby. Take Nate, right now, Bullet, or so help me God, I’ll do more than kick you,” she shouted.
&
nbsp; The man arched his brow but kept his arms folded. She pressed the small bundle into the brick wall of steel and he studied the tiny infant as if it had three heads. But he sighed and caught hold of him. Once she was satisfied he wouldn’t drop Nate, she charged off. Ella should have known when the old woman bent over the grave next to Josephine’s something was odd, but when the wrinkled lady limped and turned to leave, she didn’t sense anything unusual about her. The old woman smiled down at Nate. She asked his age and commented on his lovely blond curls. While she held the flowers for Josephine’s grave, she nodded at the woman who spoke as she gripped the stroller.
“Nate—such a strong name. Untainted innocence holds the strongest power of all, you know.”
The woman’s voice changed from the scratchy sound to butter soft, as did her appearance. In the blink of an eye, instead of the old crone stood a lethal opponent dressed from head to foot in a burgundy catsuit. Long dark hair reached her waist. Ella screamed, but the guards, Bullet and Coca-Cola, stood frozen like statues. When Isabella appeared out from the fog, the woman ran away. Moments later, the witch followed. She didn’t want Isabella to go, and shouted at her to stay, but she couldn’t stop her.
“Mrs. Drayton, please, she’s bled out, and her pulse is weak. Go and sit in the Range Rover.”
Staring down at the pale Isabella, snow falling around them and covering the ground she lay on, she dropped to her knees to help. Shoving her thoughts aside, she shouted, “Move—I can stop the bleeding.”
Coca-Cola glanced at her, but did as instructed; she pressed her hand over the open bloody wound at the witch’s throat. She snapped her eyes shut. Blood spurted; it flowed over her hand and she increased the pressure. Blocking everything out, she imagined the blood clotting and the vessels healing at the site of the wound. Heat charged through her veins and into h er hands, pouring across into her friend, heating her skin. But as the warmth left Ella’s body, a coldness returned, shocking her. Opening her eyes, she examined the stillness of her friend. Refusing to accept she couldn’t save her, Ella tried again and pushed her energy into the woman. But her power did nothing. The witch had lost too much blood.
A squeal of brakes echoed around her, and she slid her glance sideward. The team’s black van carrying medical supplies and resuscitation equipment rested at the curb. Ella continued to pummel Isabella with her energy, listening for a heartbeat. Footsteps trudged toward her, but she wasn’t sure anyone could make a difference.
“Don’t leave me, Isabella. You have to fight, do you hear me?”
“Ella—Ella.”
Hearing Marcus’s deep voice, she glanced at him as he crouched low next to her, placing his hand over her bloody one, his face taut and his eyebrows dipped as he stared at Isabella.
“She’s gone, Ella. You need to let go.”
“No—there’s a pulse, barely, but it’s there.”
Dr. Davies stood across from her, inserting an intravenous line into the witch’s arm, but as she examined Isabella, her face paled. “Ella, she isn’t going to make it.”
She couldn’t accept that. Something needed to be done. Angry shouts and yells grew louder as the fog lifted. Jake and Roman were here—fighting. She stared at the ground as Isabella lay there, lifeless. The bleeding had stopped, but what had drained from her spilled out over the ground, eating the fresh snow as it spread out.
“Fucking do it, Roman. This isn’t how it ends for her,” Jake shouted as he grabbed the vampire’s dark shirt collar.
Roman hissed and shoved the man away. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Jake charged at the man, grunting and grabbing his shirt. “Look at her—you’re her only hope.”
The vampire studied the man as Jake removed his hands from his shirt. Ella watched the exchange between the two who cared for and loved Isabella. Roman stepped forward and shot her a brief haunted look, before dropping to the witch’s side. A flurry of curses in a language she didn’t understand came from his mouth.
Jake shadowed the vampire. “Save her and bring her back.”
Before Ella could speak, Roman lifted Isabella off the ground and vanished. She flopped back into the waiting arms of Marcus, drained and empty. He rocked her back and forth. Held in his warm embrace, she stared at the blood covering her hands. When Marcus lifted her into his arms, she didn’t resist and he carried her away. The tears would fall later. As she gripped her husband’s shirt, she studied the light where a dozen crows now gathered, flapping their wings.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was dawn, and the team had delayed leaving for the Veil because of the attack last night. Ella listened vaguely to the heated conversation in the dining room, staring blankly at Marcus, but his words didn’t penetrate. A numbness spread through her limbs and no matter how warm the temperature inside the room, the cold from last night remained. She glanced at her hands for the hundredth time. Angry voices filled the air, and she glanced at Jake, who still wore the same clothes from yesterday. Her gaze honed in on his navy shirt, where, above the breast pocket, lay a dark stain. Isabella’s blood. At some point, he must have touched the witch; she didn’t remember.
“Have you heard anything from Roman?” Jake shouted.
“Only that Lucius, his second-in-command, is due to arrive within the hour and is taking his place to travel to the Veil. He will have more news when he arrives.”
“What the fuck does that mean? Where the hell is Roman?”
“Jake—you have to be patient. We’re in uncharted territory here. I’m sure Roman is doing the best he can.”
Unanswered questions hovered in the air. The decision yesterday for Roman to take Isabella was a last-ditch attempt to save her. Today, the guilt and wonder whether there could have been another way tore into Jake, and Ella could see his anguish. Jake had jumped, frantic at the witch’s impending death, and pushed the vampire to act. Did he really understand what the ramifications of changing her into a vampire—if Roman managed that—would mean? She doubted it. Ella covered her mouth with her hand to stop the scream that verged on her lips.
“Ella, you don’t have to be here. I can let you know later when there is news.”
Marcus was so matter-of-fact, she could scream at him too, but kept silent, brooding. She had to be here. The Morrigan had ripped Isabella away from them all. Nothing would be the same ever again.
“I tried to heal her—I should have been able to stop the bleeding, but she had already lost too much. I couldn’t save her.” She stared at her hands as she turned them over.
Marcus reached over and grabbed hold of them. “Ella, none of this is easy. Isabella is one of us, but she’s a grown woman. A member of Orion doing her job. But she shouldn’t have charged off alone. It doesn’t help anyone now, but damn it, it’s a fucking lesson I dole out to new recruits all the time.” He ran his hands through his hair.
He huffed out his words as a muscle in his cheek twitched. Frustration rolled off him and he attempted to rein in his anger—she knew for her sake, but she needed the anger. She needed to feel something other than numbness.
“There has to be a way to kill the Morrigan!” She slammed her hand on the table. She examined the men gathered around. Marcus kept his serious eyes trained on her, with dark shadows highlighting his worry. Jake she doubted heard a word anyone said, as he twisted his fingers, something she had never seen him do before. Henry rubbed his neck and sat back in his chair, quiet as always. Alexander from the Watchmen and Huron, the Assembly guard and guide to the Veil of Shadows, were the only ones who appeared unaffected.
Marcus left his seat at the head of the table and strolled to her side, standing behind her. He pressed his hands down on her shoulders. At first, she tried to shrug him away, but as his fingers rubbed her tight muscles, she settled and let him continue to massage her as he talked.
“We can’t let yesterday blindside us.”
The men zoned in on Marcus as he spoke. He pressed his thumbs and fingers into her shoulders, easin
g the discomfort there to the point she couldn’t move or talk.
“We have to trust Roman to do what is best for her.”
When he finished, the door banged opened and the Lockheart sisters strode into the room.
“Where is she?” Raine stood next to Zephra, teary-eyed as she searched the room. Raine left her sister’s side and marched to Marcus, wiping her cheek. “Why didn’t you wake me last night? Why did you wait until this morning?”
Marcus dipped his head. Last night, they sat together, not talking much. He had been mostly holding her, and taking care of Nate because everything seemed a blur. Ella couldn’t bring herself to ask Marcus to leave. It didn’t mean she had forgiven him, but right now, with her world spiraling out of control, with her friend gone, having him helped.
“I did go to the medical center, but you were asleep, and when I spoke with Zephra, she told me to wait.”
Raine snapped her head to study her sister. “Why? She’s our sister!”
Zephra walked over and grabbed her hand. “We couldn’t do anything. I knew Isabella was attached to the visions, but I didn’t know how. She’s a piece in a much bigger puzzle. Perhaps, the starting piece in what the Morrigan is planning. When Roman saved her that first time, I knew from that moment on, their fates were sealed. You know, sister, no matter how many times I read the cards, I saw their futures combined. The vampire could have changed her a long time ago, but he didn’t. Yesterday, another vision appeared, and I saw Isabella. I expected Marcus’s call, and when he told me what happened, I knew Isabella’s fate. She isn’t lost to us—you will see.”
Jake scraped his chair back and marched over to the coffee machine, pouring himself a large drink. He strode toward the now open double doors.