by Nora Roberts
He wondered how much work it was going to be for him to talk her into taking a trip with him, maybe in the spring. Before he had to buckle down and turn his data and theories and conclusions into a book. They could make a quick stop in New York. He wanted her to meet his family.
Then they could take a few days somewhere, anywhere she wanted. He wasn’t particular.
Some time alone with her, away from work. It might help him evaluate another hypothesis he was working on. That he was falling in love with her.
Ripley decided tokeep her distance from whatever was going to happen at Mia’s that evening. Since Zack had chosen to go along, she would have the house to herself for a change. She could take advantage of that by turning the TV up too loud, eating junk food, and watching a really bad action movie on cable.
She’d been spending nearly all her free time with Mac, and maybe that was part of the problem. A little alone time in her own space was just what she needed.
She would work off some energy lifting weights, take a long, hot shower, then settle in with popcorn, loaded with salt and butter, and watch TV with her pals Lucy and Diego.
She turned the music up to earsplitting in the spare room she used for workouts, then with the dog and cat trailing her, walked into the bedroom to change into her gear.
And there were the tulips, the charming explosion of them, taking over her dresser. The air was sweet with them.
“Valentine’s Day’s just a racket,” she said out loud, then gave up. “But it really works.”
She picked up the card she’d bought for Mac. It wouldn’t take her very long to run over to the cottage, slip it under his door. In fact, it would probably be better if she didn’t have to give him something so, well, mushy face-to-face.
And she could add a little note saying that she would see him tomorrow. The more she’d thought about it, the less she wanted to talk about whatever it was he wanted to talk about when he was still pumped from his witch session.
She didn’t care if it was unfair or unrealistic, or even stupid. For now, for a while longer, she wanted to keep whatever it was they felt for each other separate from his work and her . . . gift.
She’d never been in love before. What was wrong with holding on to that for a while, and putting off the rest?
“Okay, back in ten,” she told Lucy and Diego. “No smoking, drinking, or making long distance calls while I’m gone.”
She grabbed the card and headed toward the door leading out to the deck.
And stepped out onto the beach, into a rising storm. The wind slashed, the icy tip of a whip. The air was blue with lightning. She was spinning, spinning through it, flying on a current of power that pulsed in a thousand heartbeats over her skin.
The circle was a white flame on the sand. She was in it, and above it, outside it.
Three figures ringed inside it. She saw herself, who was not herself, link hands with her sisters. And the chants that rose up hummed inside her.
She saw herself, yet not herself, standing alone, beyond that bright circle. Arms lifted, hands empty. And the grief shot up out of that lonely heart into her own.
She saw herself, as she was, as she could be, alive in that storm. Beyond the circle where her sisters waited. Rage and power twisted inside her.
One man cowered at her feet, and another ran toward her in the violent dark. But she could not be reached. Would not be reached. In her hand was the bright silver sword of justice. With a cry, she brought it down.
And destroyed them all.
She awoke sprawled on the deck, shuddering helplessly in the balmy night. Her skin was damp and there was the electric smell of ozone stinging the air. Her stomach spasmed as she pushed herself to her hands and knees.
Too weak to stand, she stayed there, rocking gently, taking gulping breaths to feed her starved lungs. The roaring in her head subsided and became the endless rolling of the sea.
It had never come on her like that, never so abruptly, so physically. Not even when she was practicing, when she had willingly sought such things.
She wanted to crawl back into her room, to curl up on the rug in the dark and whimper like a baby. It was the small, pitiful sounds coming from her own throat that made her force herself up until she was kneeling, until she was breathing deep and steady again.
With the vision still pounding at her, she scrambled to her feet and ran.
Thirteen
“Are you sureyou want to do this?” Nell linked her hand with Zack’s, deliberately slowing the pace.
Thin clouds sailed overhead, filtering the starlight. The fat curve of moon was a soft and waiting white. She knew her way in the dark, through Mia’s gardens, past her jutting cliffs and into the winter forest. With her hand warm in Zack’s, she let Mia and Mac pull ahead.
She could hear Mia’s voice, like a light trail of music, slip back through the trees and shadows.
“Would you rather I stayed behind?”
“No. It’s just that you’ve never come with me before.”
“You never asked me before.”
Her fingers curled in his, she stopped. She could see him clearly enough. She could always see him clearly. “It wasn’t that you weren’t welcome.” In the starlight, she saw his brows arch, and she smiled. “Exactly.”
In a slow, easy movement, he lifted their joined hands to his lips. “Does my being here make you uncomfortable?”
“Not uncomfortable. A little nervous, maybe.” Because she was, she touched him, just a skim of her fingers over his arm. “I’m not sure how you might react, how you’ll feel about this part of me.”
“Nell.” He put his hands on her shoulders, gave them a little rub. “I’m not Darren.”
“Who?”
“You know—Darren.Bewitched. You twitch your nose and I get all grumpy about it.”
It took her a minute, then she wrapped her arms around his waist. Nerves, doubts, worries, were completely swamped by joy. “I really love you.”
“I know. There is one thing. I was going to be open-minded and not bring it up, but . . .” He glanced over to where Mac had disappeared into the dark with Mia. “I’ve read up on rituals and magic and that sort of thing, and I know that sometimes they involve getting naked. I don’t care how stupid it sounds, but I want you to keep your clothes on when Mac’s around.”
She tried to hide her amusement. “He’s a scientist. Like a doctor.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass. In this particular area, I’m Darren.”
“Well, Darren, it’s not warm enough to go skyclad. And to be perfectly frank, I keep my clothes on even when it’s just me and Mia. Apparently I’m a very prudish witch.”
“Suits me.”
They began to walk again, with him letting her lead the way. “So . . . does Mia get naked?”
“Skyclad,” Nell corrected. “And I don’t see why you’d be interested.”
“Purely from an academic standpoint.”
“Yeah, right.”
They were still teasing each other as they stepped into the clearing.
Shadows, gray as smoke, ringed the edges. Hanks of dried herbs and chains of crystals hung from the bare branches of the trees. A trio of stones rose up in a kind of altar. Mac crouched in front of it, busily taking readings.
Mia had denied him his video camera and tape recorder. No amount of persuasion had moved her on that point. But she had permitted his sensors and his notebook.
And his mind.
Mia had already set down the bag she carried, and now walked over to Zack to take the one he’d brought for Nell. “Let’s give our scientist a moment to play, shall we?” She gestured toward Mac. “He’s so happy.”
Then she slipped an arm around Nell’s shoulders. “There’s no need to be nervous, little sister.”
“It just feels a little odd. And I’m still new to all this.”
“Your man stands with you. You come here already more powerful than you were the first time, and more aware of self
.” She shifted her gaze to Zack, studied his face. “Can’t you feel his pride in you? In all that you are? There are some who never have that vital magic. Without it, the light’s never quite bright enough.”
As much to bolster herself as Nell, she gave Nell’s shoulders a little squeeze before going to join Mac.
“She’s so lonely,” Nell confided to Zack. “She doesn’t think it, and she’s so confident, so complete, no one sees it. But there are times she’s so lonely it makes me ache.”
“You’re a good friend, Nell.”
Mia laughed at something Mac said, then spun away from him. It wasn’t quite a dance, Mac would think later. But still somehow balletic. Her long gray dress billowed, then settled as she lifted her arms. And her voice, rich and full, was the music.
“This is our place, the place of the Three. It was conjured from need and knowledge, from hope and despair. From power turned away from death and fear and ignorance. This is our place,” she repeated, “passed down to us, the Three to the Three. For tonight, we are two.”
Mac got slowly to his feet. She was changing in front of him. Her hair was more vivid, her skin sheening like marble. Her already staggering beauty increased, as if some thin veil had been lifted.
He wondered if she used her magic to enhance what she had now, or if she used her gift to dim it at other times. And he cursed the lack of recording equipment.
“We come here to give thanks, to honor those who came before, to offer, and remember. This ground is sacred. You are welcome here, MacAllister Booke, when you’re invited. I won’t insult you by asking for your promise not to come here otherwise.”
“You have it anyway.”
She inclined her head, a regal acknowledgment.
“Zack, you are Nell’s, and this place is hers as much as mine. So it’s yours. You can ask questions if you like,” she added as she bent to open her bag. “I imagine Dr. Booke has most of the answers.”
Because the request was implied, Mac crossed over and stood with the other man. “The candles they’re getting out are ritual candles. I imagine they’ve already been consecrated and inscribed. They’re using silver, representing the goddess. Female power. The symbols on them . . .”
He edged a little closer, squinted. “Ah, yeah. The four elements. Earth, Air, Fire, Water. Mia wouldn’t tell me what ritual they’d do tonight, but from the setup, it’s probably a call to the four elements. An offering of respect,” he continued. “Maybe a request for dream interpretation or clairvoyance. Those are represented by the silver candles, too. It’s an attractive ritual.”
“You’ve seen it before.” Zack watched his wife remove a knife with a curved handle, a goblet, a wooden wand with a crystal tip from her bag.
“Yeah. If the ritual generates enough power, you may feel a little tingle in the air. Even without that, my sensors will pick up the energy increase. They’ll cast a circle and light the candles with wooden matches.”
“Matches?” Zack felt his face split into a grin. “Brother, keep watching.” Amused now, and fascinated by his wife, Zack slipped his hands into his pockets, rocked back on his heels.
Mac scribbled in his notebook as they cast the circle. It was a fairly standard casting, little variation on the other chants and movements he’d observed.
“Too bad it’s cloudy,” he commented as he checked the new reading on his sensor. “We could use more light.”
Even as he spoke, a thin line of silver shimmered over the ground, a perfect circle of light.
“Jeez.” With equal parts shock and fascination, he took a step forward, notebook forgotten.
From the center of the circle, Mia and Nell set the candles alight, with no more than a sweep of arm.
“I thought you’d seen this deal before,” Zack said.
“Not like this. Never like this.” Catching himself ogling, he pulled himself back. And got to work.
“We are two,” Mia said. “And we bring two more. One for love, and one for knowledge. One to be cherished, the other to be sought.” She picked up her wand. “Such things are tools,” she said, conversationally now. “Tools are to be respected.” She opened a small jar and took out a handful of petals. “Iris, for wisdom.”
From another, Nell took a sprig of rosemary. “And this for love.” She took up her ritual knife and used the tip to draw symbols on the earth. “And here we twine them, here we bind them, love and knowledge blessed with hope, within the circle and without, sought and cherished they conquer fear and vanquish doubt.”
“Hearts and minds, open and free,” Mia continued, sprinkling herbs and flowers into a wide bowl. “Only then can we meet our destinies. Because these things we both hold dear, we allow two to witness what we do here. In this place and on this night, we open our ritual to their sight. This I do willingly.”
“As do I,” Nell responded.
“All right, then. Any questions, Professor?”
“I’ve never seen that particular ritual.”
“Just a little precaution. We wouldn’t want you to be taken as Peeping Toms. Consider it a kind of warm-up act for the main performance. Still, you’re not to attempt to enter the circle, or even approach it, once we begin. Understood?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Then . . .”
“One more?” Mac lifted a finger.
“Ask,” Mia said with a nod.
“What is this place?”
Mia held out a hand, palm up, fingers gently cupped, as if she held something precious. The air—Mac would have sworn it—pulsed.
“It is,” she said quietly, “the heart.”
Then she lowered her hand. Mia nodded at Nell. “Blessed be, little sister.”
Nell drew in breath, held it as she lifted her arms. “I call to Air, both restless and sweet. On her breast my wings will beat. Rise and turn and blow your breath warm, come stir the wind, but do no harm. I am Air,” she called out as the hanging crystals began to sing, “and she is me. As I will, so mote it be.”
The wind swirled, dancing in the once still night. Mac could smell the sea in it, feel it whisper, then rush over his face and hair.
“Amazing,” was the best he could do, and watched Mia mirror Nell’s gesture before she picked up the chant.
“I call to Fire, her heat and light. In her heart life burns strong and bright. Flame like the sun, bring harm to none. I am Fire, and she is me. As I will, so mote it be.”
The silver candles sprang like torches, and the shimmering circle rose like a flaming wall.
Mac’s sensors rang like alarms. For the first time in his long career, he gave them not a thought. The pencil he held slipped unnoticed out of his fingers. He could feel the heat, see through it. The women behind that sheer, fiery curtain glowed just as brightly.
And the wind sang like a woman in love.
Within the circle, Nell and Mia turned to each other, clasped hands.
Ripley rocketed out of the woods. Mac caught only a glimpse—her pale, pale face, dark eyes, then she was diving into the fire.
“No!”
With images of her burning, he leaped forward.
“Stay back!” Mia snapped out the order even as she knelt beside Ripley.
“Damn it, she’s hurt.” Mac lifted one unsteady hand, pressed against an invisible barrier. It sparked, hissed, but wouldn’t give way. Nothing he’d seen or done had prepared him to stand helpless behind magic, unable to reach the woman he loved.
“Break the circle,” he demanded. “Let me through.”
“This isn’t for you.”
“She is.” He curled his fists against the shield, ignoring the heat that radiated from it.
“Nell.” Zack strained at the edge of the fire. He felt the scorch of its power, and for the first time a ripple of fear.
“It’s all right. She’s safe here. I promise.” Watching her husband, she cradled his sister’s head. “Please.”
“You know better.” Mia’s voice was steady even as she brushed back Rip
ley’s hair. Even as she watched Ripley’s eyes clear, her heart thudded. “I wasn’t prepared for you, nor you for this.”
“Don’t scold her. She’s shaking. What is it, Ripley?” Nell asked. “What happened?”
Shaking her head, Ripley struggled to her knees. “I can’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. I don’t know what to do.”
“Tell me,” Mia insisted as she gave a worried glance toward the men. Her will and her wall wouldn’t hold them out much longer. No defense lasted against love. “And be quick.”
“A vision. Hit me like a fist. What was, what might be. It’s bad. It’s me.” She moaned and sank into a ball. “It hurts.”
“You know what needs to be done.”
“No.”
“You know,” Mia repeated and ruthlessly dragged her up again. “You came, you’re here, and you know what you have to do for this, for now. The rest comes when it comes.”
Her stomach pitched, cramped. “I don’t want this.”
“And still you came. To save us? Well, save yourself first. Do it. Now.”
Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, and the look she shot Mia was anything but friendly. But she held out a hand. “Well, damn it, help me up. I won’t do it on my knees.”
Nell took one hand, Mia the other. And when Ripley stood on her feet, they let her go.
“I don’t remember the words.”
“Yes, you do. Stop stalling.”
Ripley hissed out a breath. Her throat was so tight it stung, and her stomach was alive with cramps. “I call to Earth, generous and deep, in her we sow that we may reap . . .”
She felt the power rising, swayed with it. “Mia—”
“Finish.”
“Give us your charm and bring no harm. I am Earth and she is me. As I will, so mote it be.”
Power gushed into her, flooded out the pain. The ground at her feet sprang with flowers.
“And the last.” Mia gripped her hand firmly, took Nell’s. They were linked, a circle within a circle. “We are the Three. We call to Water, stream, and sea.”
“Within her great heart,” Nell continued, “life came to be.”
“With your soft rain, bring no harm, no pain.” Ripley lifted her face and joined her sisters in the last of the chant.
“We are Water, and she is we. As we will, so mote it be.”
Rain fell soft as silk and bright as silver.
“We are the Three,” Mia said again, quietly so that only Nell and Ripley could hear.
Because he hadno choice, Mac waited until the ritual was complete and the circle closed. The minute he could reach her he grabbed Ripley’s arms. A shock of electricity jolted through his hands, but he held on.
