Pack Bound: Pack Bound Series Book 1, page 9
A few minutes later, the door opened and Bron’s shadow fell over her. ‘Here, drink this.’
Skye lifted her hand from her eyes and saw her friend holding out a steaming mug. ‘Oh, you angel. Coffee?’
‘No. It’s one of my special herbal tisanes.’
Skye shook her head, even though that made the pain worse. ‘No thanks. You know I don’t believe in that stuff. I’d prefer something with codeine and paracetamol.’
‘This is better. Your aura is all kind of hazy and muddy. This will help cleanse it.’
Skye frowned belligerently and shook her head at the proffered cup.
Bron sighed. ‘It will also stop that headache from splitting your skull open and rehydrate you.’ She paused and flashed Skye a smile. ‘Don’t you trust me?’
‘You play dirty.’ Skye put out a shaky hand and took the mug. Wincing at the bitter taste, she swallowed. ‘You could have put some sugar in it.’
‘That would negate the efficacy of the herbs.’
Skye peered at her friend suspiciously. ‘How do they work?’
‘I’ve used valerian, skullcap, lemon balm and passion flower and steeped them in chamomile tea. They have sedative and antispasmodic effects and the chamomile is a muscle relaxant. It’s all quite sciency, not magical. Now, stop bitching at me and drink your tisane like a good girl while I go and get you something to eat.’
Skye sipped, mouth puckering from the bitter taste. The things she did for her friends!
She’d finished the tisane and was in the process of climbing into bed when Bron swept back in with a tray.
‘Eat,’ she ordered, then began placing scented candles around the room.
‘What are they for?’ Skye asked, swallowing some soup, thankful that it tasted much better than the herbal muck.
‘These are lavender, chamomile and rose. They’ll clear your aura and help you sleep.’
Skye didn’t comment, not wanting to get into a discussion about her aura again. ‘Thanks, Bron.’ She took a bite of the roll, groaning in appreciation as the flavour of butter and fresh bread filled her mouth.
‘Yeah, well, just don’t tell Shelley about the butter and we won’t have any problems.’
Skye held up her fingers. ‘I promise not to tell the health nut. Scout’s honour.’
Bron chuckled and grabbed her fingers, giving them a shake. ‘You were never a scout.’
Skye shook her head. ‘I wanted to be, but Morrigan didn’t think it appropriate.’ She sighed then took in a deep breath. The candles smelled nice, but she still had no energy. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so low.
Bron sat on the bed and touched her arm, smiling; a smile that warmed a person from the inside out. ‘Oh, I didn’t get to tell you about last night. Our date with Adam.’
‘Adam?’
‘The hot guy from the lift.’
‘You mean the free-pass one?’
Bron blushed. ‘Yeah. Him. He took us out last night as promised, except his brother didn’t come with us. We went to that new restaurant Shelley liked to have some gluhwein and dinner and then went to the Arlberg for the karaoke night. He has a pretty amazing voice.’
‘So you really liked him?’
‘Yeah. But despite being super-hot, he’s not the dream guy—more’s the pity.’
Skye frowned. Bron had this strange thing about seeing the guy she was going to be with in a dream. It was apparently a family thing. Her grandma and great-grandma had dreamed of their husbands, and when Bron had a similar dream as a teenager, she vowed he was the guy. And there was no talking her out of it.
‘But what about just having some fun with him? You haven’t had a problem doing that in the past, despite other men not being the dream guy.’
‘Yeah, maybe.’
‘What do you mean, maybe? I thought he was your free-pass guy.’
‘I mean, he’s hot and everything and his eyes …’ She blew out a breath. ‘I always thought blue eyes were my thing, you know, like Ian Somerhalder’s eyes. But Adam’s eyes,’ she sighed. ‘I could get lost in them. They were so warm and glowing, like pools of deepest amber. But despite him being incredibly sexy, we just had a really good time. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much. I’m not sure sex is on the cards for us. I think we’re just meant to be really good friends.’
Skye laughed at the astonishment in her tone. ‘I’m glad you had a good time.’
‘Yeah, I did. Shelley spent the whole night frowning at him, though. But do you know what?’ She flashed a naughty smile and waggled her brows. ‘Her lack of interest just seemed to egg him on. He kept calling her “kitten”.’ She snorted out a laugh. ‘Kitten! Can you imagine anyone calling Shelley kitten? And when he sang “Suicide Blonde” right to her—you remember how she used to be so into Michael Hutchence when we were young and she found her mum’s old INXS records? She played that song over and over—well, I thought she was going to melt on the spot. Her cheeks went so red. And then he swaggered off the stage and walked straight up to her …’
As Bron’s voice flowed on, a picture flashed in Skye’s mind of a man standing on the stage singing, his amber eyes glowing in the firelight to the right of the bar, a dimple creasing his chiselled cheeks, his dark hair artfully tousled, his full lips stretched in a wide, slightly lopsided smile that was sex and charm combined.
He looked familiar. It was the man from the bus with the little boy! But unlike when she’d seen him then and felt nothing, heat now raced through her body. Her cheeks flushed as he stopped before her, looking deep into her eyes.
‘… and he said, “Did you like that, kitten?” I thought I was going to wet myself from laughing at the look on her face. Skye. What are you doing?’
Bron’s hand on her arm made her jump and the image disappeared as fast as it had come. Shaking her head she said, ‘Sorry. I was just trying to picture your hot guy and got carried away for a moment.’
Bron shook her head. ‘No. It wasn’t just that. It was like—your aura flared brightly for a moment, as if you were tapping into your magic and—’
‘No!’ Skye looked down at her soup, disconcerted. ‘That couldn’t happen. The spell.’
‘But the spell didn’t stop your magic from sparking yesterday.’
She wouldn’t look up at Bron—didn’t want to see the look in her eyes. ‘Please. Don’t,’ she whispered.
Bron sighed and after a long, tense moment, said, ‘What was I talking about?’
Skye sighed in relief that her friend wasn’t going to push. ‘So, do you think Shelley likes your free-pass guy?’
‘Hard to tell. Although she did stare a lot at his eyes and dimples. You know how she’s a sucker for a man with dimples. And he had two proper ones, unlike my great crevice,’ she said, digging a finger into the dimple on her left cheek. ‘We talked for ages about everything, even about Wicca. He seemed really understanding and interested. Shelley of course kept frowning at me like I was spilling state secrets.’
‘So, did he walk you home?’
‘Of course. He was staying at the lodge—remember?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Then something dawned on her. ‘I think maybe the guy I shared the wine with was his brother. He mentioned being up with a brother called Adam and his nephew. Huh.’ She shook herself before she could muse any further over that remarkable coincidence. ‘So will you see him again?’
‘I gave him my number and he’s texted me with his. I thought Shelley was going to snatch his phone out of his hand and delete it. The look she gave me would have fried an egg. I said to her afterwards that if she was interested, she could have given him her number. She just snarled at me.’
Skye chuckled. ‘You will ride her, won’t you? I would have snarled at you too, and I don’t have half of Shelley’s reasons.’
Bron sighed heavily. ‘I know. But it’s good to get a rise out of her. One of these days I’m going to snap her out of the Miss Responsible role she’s cast herself in. Grandma always said life wasn’t worth living unless you took a few risks and had fun. Maybe I can get Adam to help me. He seemed to have some mischief in him.’
Skye shook her head. ‘Don’t push her too much, Bron. She’s been through a lot.’
Bron sighed and shrugged. ‘I know. I just want her to be happy. Just like I want you to be happy.’
‘I’m happy.’ Skye’s mouth twisted on the lie. She thought she’d been happy—as happy as she could be given everything that had happened in her life. But for some reason, right now, she felt miserable, like something was missing. Something she’d never known she wanted but needed more than life itself.
Except she didn’t know what that something was.
‘Stop frowning, Skye, and eat your soup.’ Bron began to tidy up. ‘How can you live in such a mess? People think I’m the free spirit, but I do like everything to be organised and have a place. I don’t know how you live in such chaos.’
‘A little chaos never hurt anyone.’
Bron glanced around the room, brows raised. ‘I wouldn’t call this a little. But it’s your room.’ She put the clothes that were folded on the chair into the dresser then returned to the bedside to pick some tablets off the tray and held them out with a glass of water. ‘Shelley said you should have these too.’
If Shelley were here she’d kiss her for the normal, western medicine—even though, strangely, the pain had lessened since she’d drunk that foul herbal muck.
As she swallowed, Bron flipped the sheets back.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Looking at your foot. Now, be a good girl and sit still or I’ll make you another tisane.’
Grumbling, Skye did as she was bid as her friend undid the bandage.
Bron sighed as she placed Skye’s foot in her lap and tutted. ‘I can’t believe this isn’t healed more.’
‘What do you mean?’ Skye looked at the nasty purple bruise. ‘It’s looking pretty good for having been done yesterday. In fact, it’s not hurting anywhere near as bad—thanks to you and Shelley nursing me.’
Bron frowned, running her finger over the bruise. ‘I would have thought the power you use to feed the blocking spell would have helped heal you faster than this.’
Skye shook her head. ‘What are you talking about? I don’t use any of my magic. It’s my grandpa’s spell. It’s his power that’s fuelling it.’
Bron looked up at her in astonishment. ‘His power died when he did, Skye. The spell he wove is tied into your magic.’
Skye shook her head, gasping as pain sliced through her temple. ‘You’re wrong. He wouldn’t have done that. He knew how dangerous …’ She pushed the leg of her pyjama pants down. ‘My grandpa’s spell hasn’t failed.’
Bron’s stunned gaze collided with hers. ‘Failed? Nobody said it’s failed. It’s just …’ She shook her head and held Skye’s stare for long, uncomfortable seconds.
‘Just what?’ Skye croaked, panic clawing at her throat again, choking her.
‘You’re so tired today. Using your magics to heal yourself would explain that.’
‘No.’ She rubbed her head. ‘No. I’m tired because I’ve just done two hard weeks of skiing and partying and from the way my head is feeling, I’ve probably also caught the flu.’
‘Maybe …’ Bron shook her head again. ‘I don’t like the spell your grandpa helped you to create. It’s not healthy for you to bottle your magic up in this way. I can’t believe someone who cared for you would have allowed it.’
Skye’s eyes were hot and prickling. She blinked, keeping back the tears. ‘Well, he did and it was because he cared for me … and everyone else.’
Bron obviously wanted to say something. Skye wished to hell she wouldn’t.
Somebody answered her wish, because Bron bit her lip and nodded. ‘If you’re getting the flu, you need to rest.’
She turned and was at the door before Skye spoke. ‘Bron?’ Bron stopped. ‘Thanks.’
‘You might not want to thank me when this blows up in your face.’
‘It won’t.’
‘I just hope you know what you’re doing.’
Skye’s mouth twisted. ‘Maybe I don’t. But Grandpa did.’
‘Well, we’ll just have to trust him then.’ She softened her words with a smile and blew a kiss at Skye. ‘Sleep well.’
Her friend turned off the light and pulled the door closed behind her with a quiet snick.
Skye frowned, rubbing at her leg.
Bron was wrong. She didn’t use her magic to fuel the blocking spell. She couldn’t.
Grandpa had made that clear. He wouldn’t have lied to her about that. He just wouldn’t.
She remembered so clearly what he’d told her:
‘Magic caused your parents’ deaths. It hurt your brother. It’s dangerous. I tried to think differently for years, but now I can’t hide from the truth, and neither can you. Morrigan and I tried to tell your father, but he wouldn’t listen. I can’t bear that the burden is placed on you, love, but it is. You must never use your magic again. You cannot let it destroy anyone else. You cannot pass it on to anyone else. The Cantrae line of magic must die.’
Skye tossed in her bed as those remembered words stabbed her in the heart. She clutched her chest, rubbing at the pain, but it made no difference, because the truth, no matter how much it hurt, was the truth. Magic—true magic—only caused pain and death. She was done with it.
She shuddered as wisps of memories crept into her mind: a dark night; trees flashing by; the moon riding high in the sky; crashing, crunching metal and a sharp jab of pain; screaming, crying, sobbing; an angry flash of blue light followed by shrieking; an animal roar; glowing eyes, like hot coals in the night; a gunshot; another blue flash; a pinpoint flare of pain in her shoulder and then … Silence.
Jerking upright, hand to her shoulder where a ghost pain throbbed, Skye gasped for breath.
Oh hell! What was that?
Looking around wildly, she noticed the candles were guttering. She slumped back against her pillows. A dream. It had just been a dream. She squeezed her eyes closed, rubbing at her temple, head throbbing again.
What was happening to her?
Nothing. Nothing was happening to her. She was just sick and tired, her body banged up from the skiing accident yesterday, her system full of medication she wasn’t used to.
She just needed to go to sleep. And hope the nightmare images didn’t follow here there.
Sulphur-blue glowing eyes followed her into sleep, and even though she knew she shouldn’t, she welcomed the sight of them. She gave herself up to his stroking hands and passionate kiss, as she lost herself to a sense of rightness she’d never felt with anyone before. If only she could feel this way forever.
Yet, she knew it could never be, because the nightmare of her birthright meant happiness, true happiness would never be hers.
A tear slipped down her face in her sleep.
10
‘Skye!’
Skye laughed as a dozen three- and four-year-olds attached themselves like limpets to her legs and arms, pulling her down to swamp her with hugs.
‘Whoa kids! One at a time.’
She had missed this. It felt like she’d been away forever. Five weeks in total—two weeks skiing and then three weeks getting over a really bad dose of flu. Now she was ecstatic to be back, and from the children’s response to her arrival, they were equally ecstatic.
She was dragged through the room as each child clamoured to show her what they’d been doing over the last few weeks. She oohed and ahed over each project. Very soon she was sitting down in the reading area, little Andy Peterson in her lap, as she read the children’s favourite book.
As she read, Andy’s body softened against hers and by the time she’d finished the story, he was fast asleep. He never slept during the day—and she was rather suspicious, given the bags under his eyes, that he didn’t sleep properly at night either—so there was no way she’d take a chance and wake him.
She gestured to one of her staff who came over to lead the children quietly away to other activities. Skye stayed where she was, the book on the floor beside her, the tired little boy’s body a heavy warmth against her.
Her heart ached.
The bell chimed as the door opened and closed but Skye didn’t move—Jenny would take care of the new arrival. Skye stayed where she was, on the floor in the reading corner, Andy’s head on her shoulder, the soft, snuffling sound of his little boy snores puffing against her neck. If she could, she’d stay here the entire day if needed.
‘Come in. Welcome to 4us2.’ Jenny’s voice was warm, welcoming. ‘We received all your paperwork and everything is ready to go.’
‘Thank you. You’ve got a lovely place here. My brother and I were really impressed with your program.’
Skye didn’t hear Jenny’s response because everything else faded away at the sound of that voice. It was a little rougher than she remembered, like he’d been to a rock concert recently and sung all night. But even so, his voice was unmistakable.
Jason McVale!
What on earth was he doing here?
No. It couldn’t be him. It was too much of a coincidence. Wasn’t it?
Skye craned her neck, but couldn’t see the door over the bookshelf a few metres to her left.
‘I have to say, I’m amazed to get a place so quickly. When my friend told me about you, she said we most likely wouldn’t get a spot because you were so popular. So we were thrilled to get your call on Friday.’
‘That’s nice of you to say. But we just had a family move away and a few spaces came up in the toddler and pre-prep programs.’
How could Jenny talk so calmly? Wasn’t she affected by the picture of male perfection standing in front of her? Perhaps glowing blue eyes and a come-bed-me voice didn’t work on a woman happily married for over twenty-five years.
