Pack Bound, page 31
Adam put his hand out to stop her, but Bron shook her head. ‘Let her go.’ Adam, looking uncertain, dragged his hand back to his side and followed.
‘What’s she doing?’ Jason whispered to Bron.
‘I don’t know.’
Shelley stopped at the door of the lounge room and ran her finger around the edges, mumbling words Jason couldn’t understand but that made his hackles rise. She did the same thing at the edge of the alcove before her gaze swung to Ferris. ‘I will avenge us both, my old friend. I promise.’
A wind blew through the room, cold and scented with death and the faint tartness of wood polish and silver cleaner. Jason frowned.
Shelley smiled and then headed towards the body still pinned to the wall. ‘I am sorry, my friend. But to do the spell I must use the same blood, or we will end up somewhere else. Do I have your permission?’ The cold wind blew through the room again, fluttering Shelley’s hair and clothes. ‘Thank you.’
She picked up a shallow bowl on the side table next to the body—the bowl was already stained with blood. Lifting it, she placed it beneath the neck wound of the cooling corpse and with her fingers, scraped congealed, sticky blood from Ferris’ neck and upper chest.
‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ Adam murmured.
Turning, she walked past them to stand in the alcove just outside the drawing room.
She waved them to stand behind her.
‘I will open the portal they opened. This is where they went through, but even though I use Ferris’ blood, it’s not fresh blood, so it won’t open to where they exited, but it will be close.’
‘Just get us in the vicinity. We will find her.’
She faced Jason, eyes still swirling gold, her expression blank as she spoke in that voice that was the echo of Harrison’s. ‘You must. Find both her and River. By midnight.’
‘But it’s almost midnight now,’ Adam said.
Her gaze didn’t leave Jason’s as she said, ‘If you don’t find them by the strike of twelve this All Hallow’s Eve, their twenty-seventh birthday, it will be too late. What the ancient Morrigan plans must happen at the stroke of midnight or not at all.’ She gripped his arm and squeezed. ‘Find them. Stop her. Avenge us all.’
‘You’re not coming with us?’
She smiled, but it wasn’t her smile. ‘I am but a fragment of what I was. A part of me went with Skye to try to help, a part stayed here to set you on the right path. I am being fuelled with borrowed power from the Goddess, but when this night is over, I will be done. Avenge me. Avenge Ferris. Avenge your loved ones.’
‘I will. By the Dark Moon, this will be done.’
She stared into his eyes for long seconds, nodded and then let go of his arm. The stickiness of Ferris’ blood left her imprint on his skin.
‘I’ll open the portal. It will be difficult. I don’t know how long I can hold it. As soon as the portal appears, you must go through. Move quickly. Stop Morrigan and Alfrere. They are strong, but if you use the Alpha–Pack Witch bond, you’ll be stronger.’
‘I’ll do what I must.’
‘No. You must do what you will.’
Without another word, Shelley turned to the opening and, dipping her fingers in the bowl of congealed blood, scribed rune symbols around the edge. Then she scribed symbols on her forehead, cheeks and chin, handed Bron the bowl and, raising her arms, called out words in a language Jason didn’t understand, words that made his wolf tremble inside him.
Sickly green lightning sparked between the symbols. The air in the archway became foggy and thick. A great wind sucked at them, pulling Jason forward. He dug his heels into the carpet, grinding his fingers into the plaster of the alcove and grabbed Bron as she went stumbling past him. He turned to warn Adam, but he had his arms around Shelley, holding her steady as the wind tore at her hair, her clothes.
Harrison, through Shelley, shouted one final harsh word. The air exploded outward—if it hadn’t been for his grip in the plaster, Jason would have been slammed against the wall in the hallway.
Then the wind was gone and a bilious green curtain of something that looked like water filled the entrance to the drawing room. Even though it rippled, it was translucent and he could see through it to the room beyond and the body pinned to the wall. He swore. When Skye had been pushed through here, she would have seen Ferris. His heart ached for her loss. He had to get to her. He had to save her from the evil that had her and take her to where she would always be safe.
And loved.
And never know this kind of fear and terror ever again.
‘Come on,’ he said to Adam, who still had his arms wrapped around Shelley.
‘I can’t. She’s about to pass out.’
Shelley’s face was now grey, her lips blue and the gold in her eyes swirled sluggishly. ‘Hurry,’ she croaked.
Adam looked torn. Jason could understand. It went against the grain to leave behind someone who was injured, especially when they had become like pack; one of their own.
‘You heard Harrison. We have to go through now or his sacrifice will be for nothing.’
‘I’ll take her. You go,’ Bron said, edging forward to pull Shelley’s floppy, just conscious form from Adam’s reluctant arms.
‘Save them,’ Shelley whispered, and this time it was her voice, not Harrison’s.
Adam touched her face. ‘We will, kitten.’
Jason gripped her hand. ‘We will.’
He turned and stepped through the portal, Adam right at his heels.
Skye wished she could reach for River. If she was going to die, she wanted to do it holding onto her twin. They’d come into life wrapped around each other, it seemed only right they should go out the same way. But because of Alfrere’s hold on her through Morrigan’s magic, she couldn’t move her arms or her legs.
She wished she could fight him, punch him, break those fingers that hurt her as they caressed her skin. Instead, she could only swallow down the bile that rose in her throat as he exerted control over her body, making it throb and ache with desire.
He caressed her with the athamé, whispering words that made her want to vomit.
She wished for the pain in her leg again—the pain helped her to keep her mind separate from what he was doing to her body—but her leg was curiously numb. And whatever part of the spell her grandpa had bound her with seemed not to work any longer.
She longed for the pain of it to slice through her mind, cutting out all other thoughts.
As if answering the wish, the places on her skin where the darkened splinters of her grandpa’s spirit had hit her began to throb. The throbbing grew into a cutting cold, so icy it burned. That burn slipped down her body, towards the injury in her leg.
‘They are coming, Skye.’
‘Grandpa?’ she sobbed.
Alfrere’s head whipped up to pin her with his black glare. ‘What did you say, little puppet?’
‘Don’t tell him you hear me. I’m no longer a spirit without. I’m within you.’
‘Answer me, puppet. What did you say?’
‘Nothing.’
Alfrere smiled up at her, skimming his body along hers until he hovered, his face inches from her own. ‘Your beloved grandpa can’t help you now. I destroyed him. Nobody can help you now. You are mine.’ He licked the side of her face. Her body trembled and she almost threw up.
‘Fight him, Skye. You have the power to resist his desire. Concentrate on the cold burn. It’s my magic inside of you.’
‘Can you help me to control myself?’
‘No. I’m too weak. But when Shelley and Bron healed you with blood magic, it infused their Wiccan power into your wound and it’s still there. I’m trying to tap into that.’
‘How will that help?’
‘Morrigan is foolish to think their power weak. It is simply different. And if we can only tap into the wisps of Wiccan magic your friends used on you, then we will be able to get around her spell.’
‘Is that what you are doing now?’
‘Yes.’
The ice-cold burn in her leg intensified and she almost cried out. She bit it back. She couldn’t let Alfrere know what was happening inside her.
‘That’s right, love. Be strong. Jason is coming. He’s following your bond. Stay open to it, and hold on.’
Jason was coming!
Strengthened by that knowledge, she managed to curl her fingers into a fist, to fight against the insidious desire Alfrere’s roaming hands created.
‘I think I’ve bonded with it, but I’m too weak to do much else. You must concentrate on the cold burn and let it seep into you. Allow it to travel up and over your body. Coat yourself in it. Can you do that?’
‘I will try.’
Concentrating on the cold burn, she did as her grandpa asked. It was hard. Her body fought the feel of alien magic. But it worked slowly but surely. The desire that trembled over her skin at Alfrere’s touch was turning to twitching shivers of revulsion.
‘Skye? Where are you? Lead me to you. Give me your mind.’
‘Jason,’ she cried in her head. ‘Jason, find me.’
‘I’m coming, Skye. We’re almost there. Fight them.’
‘I’m trying. But he is so strong.’
‘Try harder. If you can’t fight for yourself, fight for River. Fight for me. I love you.’
‘I love you too.’
Wrapping her grandpa’s magic mixed with Shelley’s and Bron’s around her, she tore her curled fist off the cold slab of stone and lashed out.
Her punch connected, catching Alfrere in the temple. He fell sideways but caught himself before he fell off the altar.
Eyes blazing, he stared at her. ‘How did you do that?’
She hit him again, knocking him to the floor. She rolled off the other side of the altar and tried to stand.
Alfrere leapt over the altar, grabbing her. They fell. Her head smacked against stone. Stars whirled before her eyes, but fury and the desire for revenge kept her conscious. She slapped at him, raising her legs to kick, clawing at his chest, his face, his eyes.
The mix of magic from Harrison, Shelley and Bron strengthened the more she thought of Jason’s words. I love you. Fight for me.
Yes. She would fight for him. She would fight to see him one more time, even if she could never truly be his. He had to have children for the strength of the pack. And if she got through this, she would make certain that happened. With Shelley’s and Bron’s gift shimmering through her, it seemed possible.
She pushed at Alfrere, screaming as he tried to hold her down. He fought back, but she was a rampaging fury of hands and legs and teeth. ‘You will not have me. You will not kill my brother.’
She kicked out. He went flying off her and smashed against the cavern wall, harder than last time. Triumph and hope speared through her. She sat up, grabbing at the athamé that had fallen from Alfrere’s hands.
‘No, no, no, dearie,’ Morrigan tutted, returning to the room. She flicked her hand and Skye slammed back on the altar, the athamé knocked from her hand.
‘No!’ Skye screamed, trying to harness the Harrison-Bron-Shelley magic to fight the iron-clad magic that held her down again. But fear and pain and weakness washed over her, slapping the harnessed power aside like it was a bothersome fly.
Morrigan leered at her. ‘You are no match for me, dear. No matter that you are the last of the Colliere line with all their vaunted powers. You don’t know how to use it or release it. Your grandparents did me such a wonderful favour there. Without the use of your powers, you are nothing.’
‘No, Skye. Don’t listen to her. You have the ability to channel magic—your own or anyone else’s. If that wasn’t the case, Shelley’s and Bron’s magic wouldn’t still be in your skin. Follow the channel to your friends. Tap into them and use them. Bypass that bitch’s control over your magic.’
Morrigan’s delighted laugh skittered across Skye’s senses as she tried to take in what her grandpa was saying.
‘You don’t even understand you’re doing this to yourself, do you? Without your power to tap into, mine wouldn’t be enough.’ She leaned in closer, her spittle hitting Skye’s cheek. ‘You don’t deserve such power. That’s why, very soon, it will be mine.’
‘Now, Skye. Do it now.’
‘Something’s blocking me.’
‘It’s that goddamned spell I placed on you. We have to get rid of it.’
‘I don’t know how.’
Morrigan slapped her. ‘Pay attention when I’m talking to you.’
Skye’s eyes burned as she glared at Morrigan. ‘I’ll pay attention when you’ve got something interesting to say.’
Morrigan slapped her again. Skye’s head spun but she welcomed the pain. It was sharp and bright and brought clarity. She curled her fist, but Morrigan didn’t notice. She’d already turned away, gesturing to Alfrere, who was pushing groggily to his feet.
‘Now. Stop playing with her, Alfrere, and do your job. It’s time.’
‘No!’ Skye yelled as Morrigan picked up the knife and went to stand beside River. ‘Don’t touch him.’
Morrigan pursed her lips into a moue. ‘Why not? He’s going to die anyway. What my people shot him with all those years ago when they tried to capture you has kept his beast caged until he is virtually vibrating with the supressed power of the change. Even without the Curse in effect, that power will curdle his brain, turning him rabid. But while he can’t use his Were power, I can.’
She ran the knife down River’s naked chest. Blood welled in its wake.
‘No!’ Skye screamed, struggling against the invisible bonds. ‘Jason,’ she begged. ‘Hurry!’
There was no answer.
It was up to her to save her brother.
Pushing harder than she’d ever pushed before, she pulled the strange thin cloak of her friends’ magic tighter around herself and tore at the magic holding her down. It released ever so slightly for a fraction of a second and in that second, she managed to roll over to her side.
Morrigan gestured again, and Skye slammed back onto the table, breath driven from her. She gasped, her lungs feeling like they were about to explode. Every bruise and cut and burn ached and stung as Morrigan used her own power against her, pressing on her, pinning her to the table and making her a victim once again.
‘You are weak and stupid and gullible,’ Morrigan cackled. Alfrere joined in with her laugh as he came to stand beside her. ‘You have no idea how to undo what you’ve done to yourself. Alfrere, disrobe. It’s time.’
Skye struggled against the invisible bonds holding her down as Alfrere removed his pants and climbed on top of her, positioning himself between her spread legs, his engorged penis lying against her thigh.
Oh, God! She was about to be raped, both physically and mentally, and her twin murdered. She had to do something.
Morrigan’s words echoed in her head. You have no idea how to undo what you have done to yourself.
Then Jason’s voice shouted in her mind, ‘Cordy’s spell! Use Cordy’s spell!’
His words were an arrow through her heart; that would be an answer except … ‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘It could kill you.’
‘What does that matter? If you and River die tonight, then so will I. The pack will die soon after me, and it will all be for nothing. You have to survive. There’s no other choice. So use the fucking spell, Skye. Do it. Now.’
He was right. If she and River survived tonight, then Jason and the pack would have a chance only if she could find a way to bind another witch to them.
She had no choice. She had to use the spell.
The piece of paper was still in her jeans pocket, but she didn’t need it—she’d read the words and now, when she most needed them, they became a blazing brand in her mind.
Looking past Alfrere, tuning out the words Morrigan chanted over River, she concentrated on the spell and canted out loud:
‘I am the wind and the fire, the earth and the rain.
My magic is my own, and will be again.
My bloodline is sacred, the Colliere’s last child
An eternal bridge between the magical and the wild
Restrained no longer, my magics are free
To be mine to use for eternity
Three times three times three times three,
My will is mine, so mote it be.’
Shelley took the last bite of the chocolate bar and looked askance as Bron held out the can of Coke.
Bron’s lips twitched. ‘I know you don’t like it but there wasn’t any juice and you need the sugar, so don’t be a baby.’
Shelley’s sigh made Bron chuckle. ‘Sorry I’m being such a grouch. You’re the be—’
Her words cut off, but Bron didn’t really notice, as what felt like a great hand reached inside her, grasped at her essence, and pulled. She stiffened and cried out, dropping the Coke.
Shelley clasped her head and screamed.
Bron fell to her knees in front of her friend. Mouth tight in a grimace—it felt like her insides were being shredded—she pulled Shelley’s hands from her head and screamed, ‘Don’t fight it.’
‘What—is—it?’
‘Skye. It feels like Skye. She needs us. She’s pulling on the essence of our Wiccan magics. We have to let her have them. This is what Paul saw. What he referred to in his diaries.’
Shelley clasped Bron’s hands, the grip painful, grounding. ‘Are you sure?’
Bron nodded. ‘He said, “The friends hold the key.” And there was that spell? It didn’t make sense, but now, I think this is what he meant.’
Even through the pain, she could see the light of understanding, of acceptance, in Shelley’s eyes. ‘We can help.’
‘We can help.’
Holding hands, they stared into each other’s eyes and said the words they’d argued over earlier that night.
‘The Goddess lives, the Goddess falls
Power shared for the good of all
To help a friend, bind the power of three
Our free will given, so mote it be.’
