Hedge Witch Diaries Complete Series Boxed Set, page 33
Sydney piped up from behind us. “We might find something in their quarters too. A clue about their plans for Gareth and the siren.”
Dorian was silent again, contemplating. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head. Finally, he sighed.
“Very well. I won’t be welcomed there, as you know.”
Balzac waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, they’re not especially fond of you. Honestly, Dorian, you’ve no one to blame but yourself for remaining a hedge witch.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Attacking the place to break me out probably didn’t help either.”
Dorian’s mouth quirked in a hint of a smile. “I suppose not. But no matter. You go on ahead, and I’ll stay close as before.”
I drew a deep breath. Teleporting always made me nauseous, like my insides were being twisted and wrung out. I was starting to get used to it, sort of, but it was still unpleasant. A small price to pay for instant travel.
Balzac extended his hands to form the spell. Dorian stood back, activating the sigil tattooed on his forearm. He was getting ready to teleport separately.
“Ready?” Balzac asked. We both nodded.
The world around us melted away. My stomach lurched. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself not to vomit.
Suddenly, a great force slammed into me like we’d hit an invisible wall. My concentration shattered. I was yanked sideways as the magic unraveled violently.
We crashed into solid ground. Pain exploded through my body. Dazed, I lay in a crumbled heap. Slowly, the world came back into focus. Jagged rocks and tough scrub grass. We were outside the hidden Morai headquarters.
With a groan, I sat up. Sydney sprawled on my left, looking as queasy as I felt. To my right, Balzac was already on his feet, cursing under his breath. He whirled around.
“What happened?” Dorian’s calm voice made me jump. He stood over us, pristine and composed. I glared up at him.
“I couldn’t get us inside!” Balzac snapped.
Dorian’s eyebrows rose. “The Sharpes have erected a barrier.”
Sydney huffed. “Well, what are we waiting for? Break it down so we can get in there!”
“It’s not that simple.” Balzac sighed. “Barriers take more than brute force to undo. We need the precise counter spell.”
I pulled myself to my feet with another groan. This would be trickier than I thought. Still, we had to get inside and find my mother.
I brushed the dirt off my jeans and faced Balzac. “There’s got to be a way to break through this thing. Can’t you, I don’t know, hack your way in or something?”
Balzac gave me a withering look. “Miss Bloom, this is not some human computer system I can override with the right codes. A witch’s barrier requires dismantling from the inside by another witch who knows the intricate pattern it was woven with.”
I threw my hands up in frustration. “Well, that’s great. So we’re locked out?”
“Not necessarily.” Dorian’s icy blue eyes glinted. “Witches cannot pass, but perhaps a spirit could.”
My breath caught in my throat. Of course. I could send my spirit animal to scout inside. I’d done it before when we were tracking Gareth. This time, though, I wouldn’t have the amplifying power of Dorian’s stone circle.
“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do that again,” I admitted.
Dorian stepped closer, his voice low and reassuring. “I believe you can. Balzac, Sydney, and I will lend you our energy.”
I nodded slowly. It might work, and we had to try.
“Join hands,” Balzac instructed. “We must create a living conduit.”
Dorian swiftly grabbed my hand, then Sydney’s, clearly avoiding contact with Balzac. I suspected it was less an aversion to holding hands with another man than a distaste for this particular man. I had to stifle a laugh at the awkwardness.
Then I closed my eyes, reaching deep within myself for that inner spark.
I focused on the glowing ember of power that lived inside me, fanning it gently like a flickering flame. I felt the energy flowing from Dorian’s hand into mine, steady and strong. Sydney and Balzac added their own streams of power to my effort until my inner light grew into a raging fire.
I released the built-up energy, sending it outward in search of a spirit guide. Several wispy forms took shape before me, but one stood out—my trusted companion, Roy. His shaggy wolf form materialized, regarding me with calm blue eyes.
I opened my mind to him, envisioning a bridge between us. “Let me see through your eyes,” I asked silently. Roy dipped his head in assent.
The woods around us faded as I slipped into Roy’s perspective. I moved with him, our minds linked, as he loped through the forest toward the hidden Morai compound. We dodged trees and vaulted streams with ease. The headquarters loomed ahead, obscured from normal view but clear to Roy’s supernatural senses.
He padded up to the invisible barrier and passed through it like a ghost. I guided Roy through lavish hallways, seeking my mother’s presence. We turned a corner and sniffed the air, picking up a scent. “Is it her?” I asked.
Roy only huffed as he broke into a run, following the scent down mahogany halls and through an arched doorway. We skidded to a halt inside a cavernous room.
There, in the center, was a large tub filled with lake water. Bound within it was my mother, the siren, with a cruel gag over her mouth. Something to prevent her from singing her hypnotic song. The Sharpes surrounded her, looming like vultures.
“Remove the spell,” Lilith demanded. When my mother refused, Evander sent a shock of magic at her that made us both flinch.
“You cursed my son,” Lilith hissed. “Your wretched betrothal spell has ruined him.”
I longed to rip the gag from my mother’s face, to free her voice and let it bring the Sharpes to their knees. But this was only a vision. Roy and I were powerless to intervene. We could only watch with growing unease as they continued their ruthless interrogation.
My mother’s dark eyes were defiant, her scaled limbs lashing in the water. She would not bend to their will so easily. I swelled with pride for her as the Sharpes readied their next round of spells.
“What do you see?” Balzac’s question echoed in my mind as if spoken through a long tunnel.
“It’s my mother,” I shouted back, my voice strained with the effort of projecting through the vision. “The Sharpes have her captive in headquarters. They’re trying to force her to break the curse on Gareth.”
Even from a distance, I heard the urgency in Balzac’s voice. “We must get inside immediately. Can you find the barrier? That kind of spell requires a totem, something you could break if you can find it.”
I snorted. “How can I break it? Roy’s a ghost.”
“Focus,” Dorian urged. “You’ve made your companions materialize before, but you need to find the totem first.”
I watched as Roy surveyed the room. A small item hung around Lilith’s neck, a trinket woven from strands of bronze. It glowed faintly with golden magic. I shouted into what felt like an abyss, describing what I saw.
“That’s it!” Balzac exclaimed. “You have to remove it from her. It should break the barrier.”
I sighed. This wouldn’t be easy. “I need more power. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here.”
“You have a totem on your neck, too, Briar,” Dorian reminded me, his voice steady. “It can make Roy take physical form. I know you’re disoriented since you aren’t seeing through your own eyes, but you’re still standing here with us. Touch the totem. Draw its power into your vision.”
I fumbled in the dark, reaching for my necklace. As my fingers closed around the fused bone, I felt a jolt of energy.
Suddenly, I was looking through Roy’s eyes as he leaped toward Lilith, teeth bared. She shrieked, firing a bolt of violet energy that slammed into his side. Pain seared through me, and I cried out, my knees buckling.
“Let go!” Dorian shouted, his voice echoing strangely. “You’ll only get hurt!”
“He’s right. The injuries will transfer to you,” Balzac added urgently. “Break the connection!”
I tried to pull away, but I was still locked into Roy’s senses. He snarled, dodging another blast from Evander. My body spasmed as the magic grazed Roy’s hindquarters.
“Get…the totem,” I gasped. Roy was fading fast under the onslaught. We had to free my mother before he disappeared. Before they killed me with their assaults on Roy.
“We’ll never get to her,” I blurted. “She’s too strong. If we can take that gag out of my mother’s mouth…”
Roy didn’t respond. Carried along with his sight, we careened past the Sharpes, making a final desperate lunge. Roy’s jaws closed around the gag and tore it free.
My mother’s song filled the air. The Sharpes froze, enthralled. But the siren’s call gripped me through my link with Roy. As he dematerialized, I didn’t return to my body. My sight remained in the room as if my spirit was being pulled away, absorbed into the hypnotic melody.
“No!” My own scream seemed to come from the end of a long tunnel. I was drowning in the music, losing myself.
Before the last of my senses slipped away, I heard Dorian shout my name once more.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
When I opened my eyes, I was sweating profusely. Dorian was leaning over me with concern etched on his face. “Briar, are you okay?” he asked.
I sat up, rubbing my forehead. My head was pounding, and I felt like throwing up. “What happened?” I muttered, trying to remember the last few minutes.
“You were screaming,” Sydney informed me. “Then you collapsed.”
Balzac kneeled beside me. “You were in a trance. We had to break the connection. It was too dangerous.”
I blinked, trying to focus. “Roy. My mother. Did we save her?”
Balzac’s expression darkened. “I’m afraid we don’t know. Your vision ended abruptly. We lost contact with you.”
Dorian handed me a glass of water, and I drank it gratefully. “What do we do now?” I asked, feeling a sense of helplessness.
Balzac placed his hand on my shoulder. “Did the siren do something to you?”
I bit my lip, calling back to mind the last few moments before I passed out. “I thought she did. I mean, she was going to. Her song was drawing me in. Even when Roy was gone, it was like my spirit remained.”
Sydney crossed her arms. “This is getting complicated. We need to focus on busting into this place and getting your mother out of there. We can’t let the Sharpes win.”
Dorian nodded. “Agreed. First, we need to regroup. Briar needs rest. We can’t ask her to attempt that again.”
I shook my head. “I want to say I can do it, but honestly…”
Balzac added, “Even if you find the energy, it remains risky. The siren might be keeping the Sharpes at bay for now, but she clearly intended to do something to you. She surely would have if we hadn’t managed to call you back to your body before it was too late.”
I sighed, feeling the weight of the situation heavy on my shoulders. “So, what’s the plan? How do we save my mother without risking my life or the lives of the others?”
Balzac looked at me with a small smile. “We have a plan, Briar.”
“Not much of a plan,” Dorian added. “She’ll never agree to it.”
I tilted my head. “What are you talking about? What’s the plan?”
“If I call a Valkyrie to abduct the siren, we may be able to extract the power we need from her to help Gareth.”
“Extract it how?” I asked.
“He’d have to kill her,” Dorian explained. “Exorcise her soul from her body and force it into some kind of warped talisman. More Canaanite shit.”
I gulped. “This is my mother we’re talking about! That’s not happening, Balzac.”
“A siren’s song loses its hold over time,” Balzac revealed. “I don’t know how long the siren will be able to keep the Sharpes from hurting her. If they force her to undo the betrothal, you know what that means.”
I nodded, feeling an overwhelming sense of urgency. “We have to do something, but I can’t let you kill the siren. You do that, you kill my mom! There has to be another way.”
Balzac frowned. “I understand your reluctance, Briar, but that might not be your mother at all. Until recently, you thought she’d been dead for years. Perhaps it’s misguided hope that blinds you to the danger we face.”
I shook my head. “Maybe part of the siren wants to eat me, or whatever the hell my parents were afraid about based on what my dad wrote in his journal. But my mother is also part of that thing, and she’s trying to help me. To protect me. I know it.”
Sydney placed a hand on my shoulder. “A siren knows how to draw someone in. It’s not only through their songs. Everything about them attracts their prey. How do you know the siren isn’t showing you what you want to see?”
“I’m telling you all. It’s my mom in there. If it wasn’t, why be so damn worried about what the Sharpes are doing, anyway? If the siren is a big fat pretender, she can’t undo the betrothal. No foul. No harm. A lot of wasted time.”
“Not to mention the Sharpes wouldn’t compromise their position with the Grand Coven if they weren’t sure it would help Gareth,” Dorian added.
I snorted. “Wouldn’t be so sure about that. They only got their place in the Grand Coven by murdering my parents.”
Balzac tilted his head. “Excuse me?”
I stared blankly at Dorian. “He doesn’t know?”
Dorian drew a deep breath. “What did you expect? I didn’t report it, if that’s what you mean. They wouldn’t have believed me if I did.”
“Evander Sharpe maintains that something else killed your parents, Briar,” Balzac stated. “Your suspicions are unfounded.”
“Yet totally fitting with their character and beaming personalities,” I snarked. “Bottom line is they can’t be trusted, and they wouldn’t take a risk like this on a gamble. They have reason to believe the siren is my mother, and I agree. She’s different than I remember, and the siren is part of what she is now, but it was her.”
Balzac crossed his arms. “What do you propose we do?”
I grinned. I wasn’t sure I could pull it off, but hell, why couldn’t I? “Roy wasn’t enough to take out Lilith. I need more spirits. I’ll send a whole freaking stampede in there if I have to. I don’t know if they’ll be able to endure the siren’s song, but if one of them can get to that charm dangling on Lilith’s neck, we can all get in there. The Sharpes know how to trap a siren. Surely you know how to do it, too, Balzac.”
“I do, but…”
“But?” I asked. “You know what they say about buts. Everyone has one. I don’t need you to tell me about it.”
“The Valkyrie would be a safer option,” Balzac explained. “I’m certain it would be able to retrieve your mother.”
“Banishing her when it’s done with her and smiting anyone else it meets in the process,” Dorian added. “Including us, most likely.”
“Doesn’t sound safer to me,” I remarked. “I can do this.”
“The siren’s song could pull you out of whatever spirit you connect with,” Dorian warmed. “We may not be able to stop it a second time.”
I pursed my lips. “Well, that’s a risk we’ll have to take. At least if I’m not alone, if I have a whole host of spirits with me, it will give me a distraction. All I need to do is get to Lilith and destroy her charm. Then, you guys can bust in there and do what you have to do to get my mother out of there.”
“You’re still too weak,” Dorian reminded me. “Even if your plan has merit, you’re not ready to do something like that.”
“Well, how long can the siren hold witches like Evander and Lilith?” I asked.
Balzac shook his head. “It’s hard to say. Maybe for only a few hours. Possibly for days. It depends on the strength of the siren’s resolve and the power of its victims.”
Sydney took my hand. “Let’s head over to Charlie’s and get some food in your stomach. We’ll see how you’re feeling after that.”
“I don’t want to leave!” I insisted. “Not while my mom might be in there and in danger.”
“I’ll stand guard,” Balzac offered. “If I sense anything different in the air, I’ll come to you.”
Dorian nodded. “I’m staying, too. To make sure Balzy here doesn’t summon a Valkyrie in our absence.”
Balzac crossed his arms and shook his head. “If you must, Dorian. You really do not trust anyone, do you?”
“I don’t trust covens,” Dorian clarified. “The Grand Coven, least of all.”
Sydney put her arm around me. “Come on, girl. Let’s get you something to eat. Maybe a little nap.”
I grunted. I didn’t like this. My mother’s life might be on the line in there. I’d just learned she might be alive, even if she’s not herself, and I was supposed to eat a meal and take a nap?
Yet I barely had the strength to protest, which defeated any argument I could make. I wasn’t in any condition to do what needed to be done. If a burger, a beer, and a bed were what I needed, best get to it.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The smell of grease and beer hit me as Sydney and I stepped through the heavy wooden doors at Charlie’s. My stomach rumbled, the gnawing hunger from using too much magic clawing at my insides.
“Let’s grab the bar,” I suggested. Sydney nodded, and we weaved our way through the crowded tables.
I slumped onto a stool, the cracked red leather creaking under me. Sydney settled next to me, resting her arms on the scarred wood of the bar top. Through the smoky haze, I spotted Grace working at the other end. She caught my eye and held up a finger, signaling she’d be right over.
“I’m so damn hungry I could eat a horse,” I muttered.
Sydney snorted. “Maybe start with a burger first.”
I managed a tired smile. The patrons' clinking glasses and rowdy laughter grated on my frayed nerves. I only wanted to eat and get the hell out of here.
