by Shona Husk
Now all she could think about were ravens and death. Her death. If her arms and legs were ripped off, for how long would she be conscious? The pain would be excruciating, plus the loss of blood. It would be quick. She hoped it would be quick. What the hell was she thinking? She didn’t want to die, quickly or otherwise.
No bedbugs, no ravens, no demons. She needed something else to think about.
Her mind was empty for a moment. Witches. Weren’t they supposed to be evil? Noah didn’t look evil, but then he didn’t look like a witch, either. He looked hot. Her lips curved. She’d like to see him without his shirt on again and check out his tattoos, maybe even ask what they meant.
She sucked in a breath. Would she get that chance? She glanced at the door, her ears straining for his heavy footsteps. Nothing. If Cory broke in tonight and dragged her from her bed, what were the things she’d regret the most?
She had to call her parents again, and her sister. They did love her, even if they didn’t understand how she could walk away from her marriage. She doubted she’d ever be able to chip through the Cory-hometown-hero image, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. He could have his life, and she could have hers. She didn’t want vengeance or to bring him down, she just wanted to be free.
If she were free, what would she do?
She’d never been to Paris. Did she really want to go to Paris or was that just the destination everyone wanted to go to? Oh god, she didn’t know where she wanted to go. There must be somewhere she wanted to see. If she had a passport and could go anywhere… Her heart pulsed, marking time. Countries and destinations whirled past. There were too many to choose from.
There was a good chance she wouldn’t get to see her next birthday, yet she had nothing on her list of things she wanted to do before she died. That was pathetic. If she was going to run, she wanted to be running to something, she wanted it to count.
She turned her phone back on and started making a list. Short term, medium term and long term…long term being if she was Noah’s lucky one percent. Short term was in the next twenty-four hours. She stared at the screen for a moment. Ideas formed and she discounted them as silly or lame just as fast. She could almost hear Cory telling her to stop wasting time, and then he’d pick where they’d have dinner or what she was going to wear to the next event.
This was her list and nothing was too silly. Besides, she didn’t have to tell anyone.
See Noah without his shirt on, she typed. That was as good a place to start as any. Not that she expected to get it, but hey, a girl could dream.
Have a really good steak. A really good big steak with fries. The kind of thing that Cory had said were men’s meals and she shouldn’t eat in public.
Get drunk on really good alcohol. Champagne, whiskey, cocktails—it didn’t matter.
She could do all of that in a day, and if she made it through that day she could move onto the slightly more difficult things like… She frowned, and the screen dimmed as she thought. This was much harder than she’d imagined. Did other people have lists of things they wanted to do before they died, or was that one of those things a person only did when the bad news came in?
She was in New York, she had to see something on Broadway. Again, she wasn’t fussed about what as she didn’t have time to worry about it.
Own a pair of Serulean shoes. Did she actually care about shoes? At least if her legs were pulled off they’d look great. A pair of really flashy shoes, something that would be fun and impractical instead of classic. Not black or white or nude. And while she’d had plenty of expensive shoes before, she’d never had a pair of Seruleans with the designer’s blue snake logo on the sole. She’d asked for a pair before and he’d said no, called them tacky and overpriced even though plenty of celebs wore them. He wouldn’t be able to stop her this time. Affording them would be another issue. But it was her list and she was pretending money was no problem.
Rachel read through her list. It was all just trimming. What did she really want? Could she make Cory suffer? Make him afraid? Would that change anything? No, probably not, and she’d much rather he walk away and leave her alone. This list had to be about her.
The woman on the other side of the room gave a loud snore, stopped breathing for a moment, then rolled over.
Stay in fancy hotel…with Noah.
She closed her eyes for a moment. It had been a long time since a man had done anything but snore next to her. Since two days before the injury. For the first three months she’d ached for attention. Then the need had gradually faded. But it was back. And she was blaming Noah’s sweaty muscles. Him, her, one hotel room…she wanted to write that down. But no. She doubted he’d agree to being a thing on her list. Besides, she didn’t want a pity screw.
Her list was truly a piteous thing, and most of it involved money she couldn’t access. However, Cory was already in New York so what did it matter? She could take out a wad of cash from their joint account if he hadn’t canceled her card. And then she’d be able to pay Noah’s fee. She grinned in the dark.
How long would it take to get a passport? If she left the country would Cory be able to catch her? Would he really miss training and games and jeopardize his comeback to make her miserable, get her back or kill her? She’d never had a passport, had never left the country. Where would she go? An island? No, too much like her honeymoon in Hawaii.
There was that ice hotel somewhere. That would be fun. She’d never skied before, either. She added that to her list, and it was starting to look like a list.
Number one still seemed like the most fun. Would he do it? She couldn’t imagine him doing anything so frivolous. But she could play the about-to-die card. Would he deny a doomed woman one last glimpse of ripped abs? The steak was probably the easiest thing on her list.
She flicked her phone off. Could she be any more true to type? She always fell for the jocks. The phone remained clutched to her chest as she breathed in the slightly stale air of the hostel. Noah wasn’t a jock; he was fit, warrior fit, because he was one of the Morrigu’s witches. That was different. He didn’t live sports. He was all about survival. And as of tomorrow, her survival.
She had a list and she was going to cross things off it. Cory could go to hell.
Noah paced around his apartment. Water still dripped off his hair. Even though he should be tired after training, he and Sawyer did an after-work boot camp, he wasn’t. He needed to be doing something. Oskar was digging up whatever he could find on Cory Daniels.
Rachel was safely ensconced in the hostel and it was probably too public for Cory to make a move—assuming he’d found where she was staying. Which he hopefully hadn’t. Tomorrow Noah would smoke the trail and buy some time. He flexed his arm, the scar pulling. It was nice when he could forget about it, if only for a few hours, but it wasn’t right, just useable.
It could be worse, though, he could have gone all black magic like Cory. There’d been a few moments, days really, when he’d been tempted. It was seductive like that. If he was whole, he could get his life back. The Morrigu had haunted his dreams and dragged him—literally dragged him—through futures he didn’t want to see if he went down that path.
He’d fallen at Her feet and vowed to kill demons for Her if She’d stop the darkness from claiming him. He’d handed over his heart. And here he was. Sane and demon free, yet still spending far too much time with demons. More time with Rachel would be nice. As in with her knowing he was there, not him stalking her like a creep to keep her safe while he studied her demon-shrouded husband.
Smoke spell first.
Since it wasn’t in his ready-made set of spells, he actually needed a prop. He grabbed a small zip lock bag and tipped less than a handful of flour into it. He liked flour as it had no scent and was a nice fine powder, plus it confused ants when sprinkled on a trail, and that was exactly what he wanted. The rest of the spell was just pouring in intent, which he would do as required. Magic wasn’t as complicated as people thought, but it did require the a
bility to focus wholly on the outcome—having a goddess to lend a hand helped considerably. He placed the bag with his wallet on the kitchen bench and checked the time.
It would be late in England, but David would still be up. Noah selected the number and waited for his uncle to answer. His uncle was probably expecting the call. It rang four times before David picked up.
“Noah, I was beginning to think I was wrong about getting a call.” David wasn’t a witch but magic ran in his blood, and while he may not pray to the Morrigu, he’d still found a calling in religion.
“I was doing a few things.”
“How’s your family?”
“Fine.” He should call them more often but he didn’t want to listen to his father explain how much money it cost to go to college and how he had a degree that he wasn’t using. His father liked to claim they were a good Catholic family that didn’t mess around with witchcraft.
“How’s your other family?” David asked, meaning the coven.
“Better. Mason wants me to take over the finances.” He didn’t want to admit to the disguised ultimatum.
“That would appease your father a bit, wouldn’t it? Is that why you hesitate?”
“No, I think I need to give up on my project.” That nearly killed him to say. As a priest, David knew all about demons. They’d spoken many times about them and exchanged ideas. One key point that David had raised was that only when the manifester was ready could the demon be traditionally exorcised. Magic was magic and people had free will.
“There is a difference between giving up and no longer making it the focus of your life.”
Noah sat on the sofa, leaned back and closed his eyes. He’d been expecting David to tell him that his work was important and that he had to continue. Instead his uncle was agreeing with Mason. For two very different people they often had the same point of view when it came to him. They’d both been there to save him from prison.
“Is there? I made a promise that I’d find the answer.”
“No god or goddess gives you more than you can handle.”
It just felt that way. The idea of walking away from it all and being normal was tempting, and yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it. He’d still see magic and demons everywhere he went, and sooner or later he’d be practicing again, but without the backup of the coven. Magic was in his blood. “Bet you don’t talk like that at church.”
David laughed. “You aren’t failing, Noah. But I know you feel like you are. I can feel it rolling off you. Take a break, regroup, come at it from a fresh angle. The demons aren’t going anywhere, but pushing yourself to the edge won’t help.”
“I can’t. I have an active case.”
“Ah. And that is the problem.”
Noah told him about Rachel and Cory. “I can’t watch her die.”
“You like her.”
Rachel was there in his mind. Her soft blue eyes and her honey hair pulled back. It would curl over her shoulder if taken down. She hadn’t freaked when he’d explained about witches and demons. Besides, while he liked the look of Rachel, he didn’t know anything about her—which was exactly how he usually liked it. No questions, no morning-after phone calls. Just an itch that needed to be scratched. Then he looked at Mason and Oskar, both happily married to women who accepted them for what they were. He could have never shared that with Louise. But then he he’d never really loved her; how many twenty-one-year-olds knew what love was? He pulled back before the old recriminations surfaced; maybe if he had loved her it would have been different. If he hadn’t started dating her, his ex wouldn’t have gotten her demon. “No, it’s a case.”
“You do realize I know when you’re lying.”
“You must love hearing confessions and coaxing out more than they want to say.” Noah liked talking to David for the same reason, he could get though any amount of bullshit Noah had piled around. Excuses were no obstacle and David always called it as it was, even when things were bad.
“I was given a talent and I use it. It would be a shame for you to waste yours the way your father did.”
He couldn’t remember ever seeing his father happy. He was always cranky and rarely took pride in his children’s achievements, especially Noah’s. Looking back, Noah knew that was because his father was looking for signs of magic, even when he was playing baseball. He was a witch and he’d gone too far down that road to shut it down now. “I’m not quitting. I’m just not sure how to go forward.”
It had nearly killed him watching Louise die. But even now he couldn’t stand up to a demon and win. If it hadn’t been Louise, it would have been his next girlfriend. His ex had been cracked, he’d felt it and had made excuses to move on, and that’s when things had gotten strange and then deadly.
“How about you? Had any successful exorcisms?”
“No one wants them these days, even if they have a demon. Therapy is more gentle and just as effective.” David paused for a moment. “Not for this Cory fellow, though. I doubt he’s going to let his go.”
“That’s what I thought, but I want to talk to him and dig a little deeper into why. This is a chance for me to study a manifestation from quite early.”
“These are people, Noah. Not specimens for you to play with and test. Don’t forget that. And don’t forget that you are human and just as susceptible as anyone else. Maybe more so because you surround yourself with it by choice.”
Noah sat up. “You’re the second person to tell me that.”
“Then you’d best listen.”
“I did. I’m good. I’m not wallowing. I’m just tired of the pointless death.” And the constant feeling of never getting anywhere.
“The gods have plans we can’t see.”
His uncle could also be infuriating. “You really believe that?”
“What is the alternative? That everything is meaningless and chaos? The Morrigu chooses Her warriors carefully.”
“And free will means we can ignore Her.”
“You never have, Noah. Be careful with this case. You may get answers but you may not like them.”
“Is that the word of God?”
There was a pause. “Get some rest, see a movie, go to a concert. Remember what it’s like to live so you know what you are saving.”
“You’re telling me to get a life.”
His uncle sighed. “Yes I am. Balance, Noah. You have none. If I have any insights into your problem, I will be in touch.”
“Thanks.” Noah ended the call and lay down on the sofa. He couldn’t just ditch study to play. Work ethic had been drummed into him, it’s how he operated. Get the job done; give one hundred and ten percent.
That was no longer enough. He was tired. Tired of demons, of living above the business, of working for the business. He wanted more, but he didn’t know what that was. While he could never walk away from the coven, he wanted to be like Peyton, who was a successful lawyer first and witch second. That was the life he’d planned for himself. The life he’d promised himself for after he solved the demon issue. Now that was never going to happen—because of Mason. Where did that leave him and his promise to the Morrigu? She’d gladly accepted his vow and his heart, would She accept his defeat?
As a warrior goddess She chose only the best, and he was pretty sure he fell short of that mark. He didn’t have the depth of faith that the others had. No, he just had his determination to stop demons from killing.
From killing Rachel.
Once this case was over, he’d have a holiday or something. Go see his parents and pretend that he was enjoying his life instead of crawling through it hoping for something to change. He dragged himself off the sofa and went to bed. Rest was at least one piece of advice he could follow. No work, no staring at the database, no demons.
Just Rachel lingering in his thoughts as he closed his eyes.
Noah blinked and looked up into the face of his goddess. The Morrigu stood over him on the bed dressed in a black corset and skimpy panties with glossy black raven wi
ngs. She was a deadly angel and She knew how to get his attention. She always had. This was how She always appeared to him, and it still had the same effect. He was transfixed by the power Her beauty didn’t hide.
Her blood red lips curved as if She knew his thoughts and liked the comparison. She dropped onto one knee, Her hand on his bare chest, Her skin cool, and the pressure far more than he’d have expected from a woman dressed in black leather and silken, feathered wings. But the Morrigu was no woman.
Her nails traced over the raven inked above his heart. “Remind me what this means, Noah.”
“I gave you my heart.” He didn’t dare look away from Her.
“Mmm.” Her nails pricked his skin. “When you gave me your heart it burned bright and was a joy to hold.” In Her other hand, a clay cup appeared. The cracked one from his dreams.
He swallowed. That was his heart. He’d watched it go from something to be cherished to the rough and damaged thing She held now.
“This is all that is left. A fragile vessel filled with fear.” She turned it for him so he could see the tiny spark inside, almost swallowed by an unnatural darkness. “Where is my warrior? The man who would take to the field for glory and dedicate each contest to me?”
She stood up, Her long, pale legs on each side of his hips. That was when he realized he was naked in this dream and his goddess was holding his heart as if She planned on crushing it before his eyes. He pushed himself back and sat up. The sheets were blood red and stretched as far as the eye could see. When She appeared in his dreams, things always got weird.
“It was a game. A stupid game.” A game he’d once lived to play. He’d loved walking out onto the diamond, loved the roar of the crowd. The training, the team—even if they didn’t win he still made sure he was trying. And he’d done it for Her because that was the only way he’d known how to serve Her.
She cupped his chin, Her fingers strong enough that if She jerked Her hand She’d snap his neck and he’d never wake. “Warriors meeting on a field to do battle is never a game, regardless of how it is fought. There is a victor and there is a loser.” Her black eyes bored into him and he was sure he could see universes being born and dying in there. She was the eternal battle of life and death.
